Sweetest Sorrow (Forbidden #2) - J.M. Darhower Page 0,100

his voice bordering on a growl. "I'll never get over how good you feel. You're perfect."

Gabriella smashed her lips to his, shutting him up with a kiss. Pressure built up inside of her. It didn't take much longer for it to rush out through her limbs, another orgasm rocking her, seizing her muscles, making her come to a brief stop. Dante kicked in, grasping her hips and pulling her off of his lap, knocking her onto the couch on her back. He was on top of her right away, back inside of her, her legs over his shoulders and knees pressed to her chest.

She cried out, unable to stop the sound, as he slammed into her. The orgasm that had almost subsided came back full-force. Gabriella ground her teeth together, trying to be quiet, but each thrust knocked the noise right out of her.

Uh… Uh… Uhh…

"Fuck," Dante groaned. "I'm gonna… fuck."

He didn't say the word, closing his eyes, his face contorting as he groaned, thrusting a few more times. Dropping her legs, he sat back on his knees, pulling out of her as banging echoed through the apartment from the floor beneath them.

Dante laughed, leaning over her, to kiss her. "Guess your neighbors didn't enjoy all of that squawking."

Her cheeks flushed. "I tried to be quiet."

"They'll get used to it," he said. "Because I'm hoping like hell they'll be hearing it more often, you know, if that's something you want."

"It might be," she whispered. "How often is more often?"

"As often as you want it."

"So all day, every day?"

He grinned. "I'll fuck you until my heart gives out, baby."

"Which will probably be like an hour from now," she said, "with the condition you're still in. We probably shouldn't be doing this kind of stuff, not while you're still healing."

Standing up, he laughed. "Ah, don't fret it. Death by pussy… it's the only way I'm ever going to go out."

"Does she know?"

The question was out of Gabriella's mouth before she was even planted in the chair across from Gavin at the small table in the corner of Casato. He scribbled in a notebook again, working out some sort of math problem, and didn't bother to look up at the intrusion. "Who?"

"Dante's sister," she clarified. "Does she know about him?"

Gavin kept his head down, facing the notebook, but his eyes lifted. Unlike the confusion that greeted her last time she showed up there, all she saw then was wariness. "Why are you asking?"

Why was she asking? Because she was detrimentally nosy. Because something had been bothering her. "Dante said something to me."

"Of course he did," Gavin grumbled. “And what, exactly, did our mutual friend say?"

"He said that if his sister were still out there somewhere, she would've come to see him, so I was just wondering…"

"Why she hasn't come to see him?"

"Yeah."

Gavin didn't appear surprised by that question. He went back to his notebook, working in silence. Gabriella watched, trying to make sense of the messy math.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Are you taking classes or something?"

Gavin closed his notebook the second she asked that and looked up. "Genna hasn't come, because she doesn't know there's a reason to come."

Gabriella gaped at him. "So she doesn't know he's alive?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because like you said, she'd want to come see him, so it's for the best that neither of them find out until it's safe."

"Which will be when? Never?"

"I don't know, but it's not my business, nor is it your business, for that matter."

"But Dante—"

"Don't," Gavin said, cutting her off. "Whatever you're about to say, just don't say it, because I already know. He's grieving. He's crazy. He's lost. Whatever. Having his sister pop up isn't going to make that better. If you want him to be happy, Gabby, help him find a reason to be. Make him happy, if that's what gets your rocks off. Be with the guy if you want to be with him. He got over you being a Brazzi pretty damn quick."

"But we could never, you know… not really."

"Why?" Gavin asked. "Think the family won't approve? Brazzi women have picked Amaros, and Barsantis, and Russos. A Galante isn't much worse. Not any better, but still, not much worse."

"But he's him."

"And I'm me and you're you. What does it matter? We're all just one big fucked up family. So maybe they won't be ecstatic about you getting mixed up in this, but as long as you're happy, well, that's what matters, isn't it? They'll get over it. But this whole wavering,

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