His Contracted Temptation; Velvet Lies

DANTE

The club is filled like any other Friday night, but my mind, as always, is somewhere else. That sucks big time since I came here to distract myself.

There's a full glass of gin and tonic before me. I swirl it lazily. Booze has always kept me afloat. After a kill, I take a glass or two. A deal gone wrong? Same. Today it doesn't touch the edge of my nerves. Maybe it's the feds snooping, or maybe it's my sworn rival, Nacho Belluci, who has pinned an assassination on me...

"What the hell, Romano? Don't tell me you've got your head still wrapped around that shit," Alejandro yells, his hands clamped on my shoulder. "We came for premium pussy, and we're getting it. You feel me?"

"Speak for yourself," I mutter, shrugging him off. My gaze sweeps the room-always scanning.

"We had a plan, bro. Blonde with Kim K curves, nice tits," Alejandro continues. I roll my eyes. "C'mon, bro. If you're going to jail, the least you can do is have a little fun," he snickers.

That shit he said is probably meant to rile me, but I'll pass. After having Alejandro as both consigliere and best friend for close to thirty years, you tend to tune out when he gets mouthy.

"Woah... check out that girl," Alejandro says, trying again, pulling me toward the center of the room.

My nose wrinkles at the smell of alcohol on his breath. "For fuck's sake, how many drinks have you had?" I groan, about to slip free when he tilts my head, and I notice her.

My breath hitches as the music dies down in my head. I take a step forward as my fingers wrap around the rails. Craning my neck, I take a gulp of my drink. Bellissima.

Honey-blonde curls bounce freely as her body moves sultrily to the music like sin itself. Her eyes are closed, lost in the rhythm like she's in her own world. Crimson lips part while she slowly trails her hands down her neck, across her chest, teasing the swell of her breasts before squeezing them lightly. The slow twist of her waist is effortless, magnetic. Her hands slide to her hips, tracing their curves with the type of captivating energy that leaves me speechless-left hand tangled in her messy curls.

Heads turn, and whispers follow her as she moves, every eye in the room locked on her.

Her short black dress fits perfectly like illusion body paint, every curve perfectly outlined like it was made for her alone. The curve of her back slopes into an arch, her hips sway deliberately, a rhythm that seems to bend into the air around her, long legs in full view as her dress rides up. The sight is enough to create a tent in my pants. Fuck.

And then-she opens her eyes. Beneath the sweep of her lashes, I catch flashes of mischief. Her gaze locks on me, unflinching, unashamed. Every movement from that moment feels like it's meant to draw me in, to pull me close without a word. I can't look away. Match found. Game on.

"I'll be right back." I pat a confused Alejandro on the shoulder and saunter away. The earlier I meet my Bellissima, the better.

I pause mid-step and notice I'm grinning. Kill me already-I don't even know her name, and yet here I am, acting like a damn fool. Acting goofy around a stranger? That's not me. But there's something about her, something magnetic that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.

I squint, trying to spot her before she leaves, but it's more hectic than I imagined-wriggling my way through the crowd of moving bodies and trying not to bump into them. It takes a while before I spot her. The bright light in the bar area glows against her olive skin. She holds a drink in one hand, the other a phone. Her curls block me from having a clear view of her profile. Regardless, she's gorgeous.

I slide into the barstool by her right and place an order with George, the bartender.

"Two of my usual-for the lady and me. Make hers exactly like mine."

She glances at me, one perfectly arched brow rising. A soft smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she tilts her head. "You're assuming I like what you drink," she says, voice low like she's amused.

"I'll take my chances. So... what is it you're interested in?" I ask.

Light brown eyes flick to the bartender, then back to my lips. "At the moment, I'll say anything business-related," she murmurs, lips brushing the rim of her glass. Her gaze never leaves mine. I watch in fascination as her tongue glides over an olive; she sucks it in, and it disappears into her mouth in a single plop. Call me a dick, but I'm already imagining how those full lips would fit around my throbbing cock.

Jesus Christ.

"Direct, huh?" I chuckle. I came here to clear my head, not recruit-but hell, maybe fate just handed me the perfect candidate.

"When you're homeless, jobless, and broke, your only currency tends to be word of mouth," she chuckles dryly. "I'm Valeria, by the way. Val for short."

Shit. "Forgive my manners. I'm Dante Romano." Valeria nods but doesn't say anything. I study her for any hint of surprise and conclude she's either new in town or good at masking her emotions.

"You've got a beautiful name, Valeria," I say, testing it.

"I get that a lot." She shrugs, clearly used to compliments.

"So what if I told you I have a job for you?"

Her lips twitch, a shadow of a smile curling at the corner. "Depends," she says, eyes narrowing like she's weighing me up. "Is this job the kind where I walk out richer... or the kind that gets me in trouble?"

I lean back casually, letting the faint smirk tug at my own lips. "Why not both?"

She laughs softly. "Well, Dante, looks like you've officially earned my attention." Long lashes flutter slowly through a half-lidded gaze that's both alluring and mysterious. The way she says my name... like it's something forbidden. It lights a fire I hadn't realized existed. I suppress a groan when I feel my cock grow harder.

George places both drinks before me. I shift closer to hand hers; my thumb brushes over her soft skin, and our eyes lock. She doesn't pull away. In fact, her knee nudges mine under the bar, subtle yet deliberate. My breath catches as I fight the urge to grab her by the neck and slam my lips against hers.

"Do you always go around buying drinks for pretty ladies, Dante, or am I an exception?" Valeria inches closer. Her bare thighs, smooth and glowing, are warm against mine. I tuck a hand into my pocket and push my pants down-a desperate attempt to hide my now full erection.

"You're a curious one, Bellissima." The nickname rolls off my tongue before I can catch myself. Valeria furrows a brow, dissatisfied with my response. "Of course not. Are you always this trusting of strangers?" I ask, genuinely interested in her answer.

She doesn't strike me as naive, and I'd be damned if I let those eyes convince me otherwise. I come to the club often enough to know Valeria isn't a sex worker-probably not a gold digger either. She's what I like to refer to as the dangerous ones: confident, mysterious, and show stealers.

"Desperate times call for spontaneous actions. You, of all people, should know," she tosses her hair off her shoulder. Her gaze travels down my chest to my crotch, and her eyes light up with excitement. Brat.

"You always this bold, Valeria?" I murmur, mirroring her gesture. My eyes hover around her chest. When we talk about perfect tits, we're talking about Valeria's. Perky. Full. Begging to be touched. Two hardened peaks strain against her thin dress, and all I can think about is how they'll taste. Valeria's legs are pressed tight, color rising up her neck. The feeling is mutual, then.

"Only with exceptions," she teases, eyes glinting.

I lean forward, nudging her body closer to mine as I lower my lips to her neck. "And what do you do with exceptions? Show me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she whispers.

That's all the permission I need.

My hand slides to the back of her neck, the other gripping her waist as my lips crash against hers in a slow, heady kiss, savoring her taste. Valeria's tongue meets mine, tentative at first, then demanding, matching the heat I'm pouring into her. Her hands clutch my chest, pulling me closer, and I respond instinctively, one hand sliding down her soft ass, the other threading through her curls.

"How about we take this to my place?" I whisper against her ear. I take her soft moan as a sign of agreement.

This night is going to be a long one.

VALERIA

My mother always said I was a trouble magnet. She was right. If she wasn't why on earth am I kissing a total stranger without zero abandonment? I might be on the brink of living on the streets but that doesn't mean I wasn't trained better.

I don't know how we managed to leave the club when neither of us could take our hands off each other but we made it to his Mercedes where I performed a much needed handjob.

" You have a beautiful home," I murmur admiring a nude sculpture of a woman in the middle of the hallway. Dante doesn't reply right away , instead he comes behind me, his hard length poking my butt. His big hands wrap around my waist, he pulls me closer and what ever sassy sentence I had in mind dies. Hot breath snakes over my neck and I let out a small whimper. Dante's hand move over the slope of my shoulders, feathery strokes brushing my bare skin. I throw my head backward, grabbing a fist full of his hair as my lips part in a silent gasp.

" Surely we're not going to have sex here ," I rasp. Dante let's out a dark sexy chuckle that sends a thrill to my pussy so that it contracts. As if he can read my mind , his hands move lower to my abdomen before finally resting on my pussy. Thick fingers gently press my pubic bone, the contact and heat makes me to press my ass firmer against his crotch. A moan slips my lips and I pull his hair harder. This foreplay is starting to get on my nerves.

I learn very quickly that Dante Romano is a patient and thorough man when lazy kisses are littered on my neck each one driving me close to a hornier edge , his hands, those Damned hands move away from my pussy when I begin to press them for friction instead they travel up to my breast, I'm too flustered to make out something he mutters under his breath but I can tell he's impressed...as he should. He grabs each breast as if weighting them, his thumb stroking my hardened nipples in that annoying way that makes me want to growl in frustration.

" Harder," I manage to say. " Don't make me have to teach–" the words are barely out of my mouth when a shot of pain stabs me in my chest. His fingers clamp both nipples with a force that both excites and pains me . My thighs press together, pussy tightening like never before as slippery warm juices coat my g-string and even though I'm on heels, the passion makes my toes to curl, hence on tiptoes.

" Ahhhh" my voice is low, needy and eager.

" Ssssh. Save your voice for when the real drill begins " Dante whispers in my ear. God and here I thought all the good in bed men died in my mother's generation.

Dante tilts my waist to face him. I look up into green lust glazed eyes that look like they want to eat me up and lick my lips. My gesture is seductive enough to cause a twitch in his pants. Dante's gaze grows darker, one minute I'm standing, the next I'm being flung over his shoulder.

" Hey!" Is my weak protest and Dante spanks my ass. A fresh jolt of pain stings there and my pussy grows more moist .I'm about to press my thighs closer if that's a possibility when his hand slips between them, quickly moving to my pussy. I let out a faint sound, stretching my hands to his ass I plan on spanking but he's so tall that my longest finger stops at his belt. Dante chuckles knowingly and when I pull myself lower, he yanks up my dress. Cool air kisses both ass cheeks amplifying the sting. I stop moving my hands. Another yank and I feel my panties slide down to my ankle. Dante rubs both cheeks, then flicks my...pussy. Santa Madre la dios! Did he just? I don't have enough to react because the next thing I know is I'm dripping, yes like dripping wet and my legs are still parted....God this isn't fair. I clutch his shirt and cry out in pleasure.

Dante's steps come to halt and he moves into a large room, just like the rest of the house it gorgeous. The walls are covered with glass panes, the lighting impeccable, the furnishing minimalist and monochrome.

He moves to the bed and shoves me down , I fall in the centre, my chest heaving as I do so. Dante...God knows I've seen so many handsome men, had a fair share of flings with them but he's– he's on of the first humans God created when he wasn't tired, deep set eyes that are so intense sitting perfectly below thick brows, slightly full lips that are darker in their corners and pink in the centre, soft to the kiss and enticing to the eyes, high cheekbones and sharp jaws that compliment his other perfect features... demonically attractive.

I gulp hard as I watch him unbutton his shirt , pulling it off. Let's not even get started with his body, just the way I like my men, ripped but not overly. There's a damp spot on his crotch and just knowing I'm the cause makes me bite my lips in pure satisfaction. A devilish smirk tips the corner of his lips and he chuckles knowingly.

He moves to the bedside drawer and rips off a packet condom. My breath hitches in my throat , fingers digging into the sheets.

The first thing to come off is his belt, one by one other items land on the floor till he's stark naked. My throat runs dry, it would when all you're looking at a man with the largest dick you've seen, it's tilted up, almost touching his stomach, long and alarmingly thick, greenish blue veins bulge against his shaft, the swollen centre of his darkened tip glistens with precum.

Dante moves to bed and it dips under his weight. His moves are predatory as he corners me, in a flash he grabs my legs, lifting them to his shoulder. An excited yelp sounds in the room, my heartbeat thrums heavily with raw dark excitement.

" The safe word is my name, " there's a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fucker.

" That's one hell of a safe word when you're the only thing on my mind "

" That's the point, you say my name Bellissima and I stop" he smirks.

Dante pulls my legs higher...his length glides into my aching pussy in one smooth stroke causing my hips to buckle. A strangled moan slips out, it hurts like hell in that erotic way,I part my legs wider , my weight propped by my elbow. Dante grips my waist slamming into me with so much force that my breasts jiggle in reaction. The second thrust is less aggressive , and just when I think I've gotten his full length there's a third that sends my back into a deep arch.

" Da–oh my fucking God!" I slap the bed. Dante's thrust increase, growing quicker and aggressive. The sound of our bodies slamming into each other in a slippery melody, my moans and his groans fill the air. My pussy tightens over his length and I'm left wondering if I can take more of him. With one hand pinning my waist, the other wrapped around my neck.

" Look at me while I fuck you Bellissima " Dante growls when my eyelids begin to flutter.

It's at that moment I realize this man would be the end of me.

♠♠♠♠

Warm sunlight filters through the blinds, brushing against my face until I stir. I stretch, letting out a sleepy yawn, and turn to my left-only to freeze. The space beside me is cold. My eyes fly open. He's not here.

I'm ready to toss the sheets aside when the door clicks. Dante walks in, a tray balanced in his hands. The grey sweatsuit does nothing to hide those shoulders-if anything, it makes them look broader. His hair's tousled, messy in the kind of way that makes my fingers twitch.

"For someone unemployed, you take your beauty sleep very seriously."His voice is rough , dimples cutting deep when he smirks.

" What time is it ?" I say groggily, rubbing my eyes.

" Way past opening hours if you work 9-5 like me " he shrugs and places the tray before me. I scan it's contents; pancakes, bacon , scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee.

A man who can fuck and feed. Hallelujah.

" Thanks boss with a night like yesterday I'm sure I'd be the first to sign in, " I snort rolling my eyes and begin to dig into my food.

" Don't you want to know about your new job?" Dante corks a brow, eyeing me lazily.

" I didn't think you were serious," I laugh softly, raising the mug to my lips.

" Well I wasn't. Would you be my wife? A contract wife?" Hot coffee scalds the roof of my mouth and I begin to cough.

" Your what?" I ask once again to make sure I'm hearing right. Is this really happening? I mean –

"Would you be my wife Valeria Torres?"

VALERIA

At the mention of my last name my body goes stiff.

"Twenty-five. Born in San Diego. Dropped out of college sophomore year. Worked at a diner, briefly. Got evicted twice."My jaw tightens, and I stop chewing, pretending to focus on my plate.

He continues, unfazed. "You're two months behind on rent. Owe your former landlord fourteen hundred. Took a small loan from someone named Tony Morales - which, judging from his record, wasn't the brightest move. No steady income. No family. No boyfriend."

"Wow," A dry laugh escapes me. "You've really done your homework." More like a whole fucking research . You'd think he'll at least need my consent before digging through my life like a public record.

He glances up, eyes glinting. "You're clean though. No priors, no addictions, no legal baggage. Just... cornered." Something in the way he says it lights a spark in my chest.

" Were you snooping through my things ?" My voice rises by an octave. I start to stand but my hand knocks over the mug , spilling it's hot content over my skin.

" Fuck!" I hiss , blowing air on my blistered palm. Dante rushes to my side his hand wrapping around my wrist before I can move.

" I'll get a soothing balm ,okay? Don't touch it "I nod, too hurt to argue. He applies the balm gently and the relief hits almost instantly.

" Thanks," I mutter, then narrow my eyes. "You went through my things."

" Positive. I'm sorry I invaded your privacy." He says without a hint of guilt." but I needed to run a background check on you."

His voice doesn't waver - smooth, unbothered, confident. And somehow, that single act of assertiveness makes my toes curl. Seriously, does this man have to make everything sound so damn sexy?

I wait for him to crack a smile and tell me it's a joke, but he doesn't. Not even close.

" Okay," I chuckle nervously, shifting on the bed. " When you said you had a job I thought it was–"

" Something more professional?" Dante offers, clearly amused.

My lips part to complete the sentence before they clamp back shut. I nod instead.

" Dignified , more like. What's my guarantee you're not bluffing? " I fold my hands over my shoulder and gently pushing the tray away.

His gaze lingers a moment longer than usual before he stands up. Those confident strides eat up the distance to his bedside drawer , and when he comes back there's a long manilla envelope stretched toward me.

I eye it skeptically, only taking it when he starts to withdraw. I scan through the first page slowly to find out he's not kidding afterall. When I glance up, I catch him watching me intently.

The contract is made up of stapled sheets of paper that promise the life I've only seen but never dared to dream of.It offers everything I need at this point in my life;

Thirty-five grand a month.

Free food. Housing. Clothing . A stylist.

Three and a half million at the end of eighteen months?!

It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to grin like an idiot and keep my expression calm.

The rules are simple too. it's mandatory I follow Dante to all social, business and official functions that demand my presence. The second States that if any of us is involved in a romantic relationship it shouldn't get to the public. And the third states if I don't comply to his rules the contract would be terminated and other legal jargons I can't bother myself with.

" What if I'm a criminal and was sent to kill you," I tip my chin.

" Your records are credible," Dante says dryly "Good luck trying though "

" So if I pen my signature, I get all of this? Is that what this means?" Hope rises in my voice before I can catch myself.

" You get all this if you play your role for eighteen months, yes," Dante corrects me. I roll my eyes in mock offense but the smile tilting my lips is hard to hide.

" Well," I say , glancing back down at the contract the "As tempting as this sounds i remember I mentioned something about getting into trouble and you agreeing."

" I didn't agree" he says easily, sliding his hands into his pocket. " But I figured I'd tell you my reasons for needing a wife."

My brows lift. " I'm listening."

Dante meets my gaze squarely. "Let's just say my image is in the toilet. The Feds are poking around my company, my investors are panicking, and apparently, I don't look responsible enough to trust with a billion-dollar brand. They think I need... stability."

"Stability?" I echo.

"Yeah. And nothing screams stable like a wife," he says with a half-smile. "You make me look settled. Clean. The kind of man who doesn't shoot people or hide money offshore."

I blink, trying to process that. "And the playboy part?"

"Still me," he admits, "just... with better PR."

I stare at him, the irony too rich to ignore.

"So basically," I say slowly, "you want me to be your cover story."

"You can call it that," Dante says. "Or you can call it an opportunity."

" Alright. You have a deal," I shrug. He studies me for a second too long, eyes narrowing slightly like he's trying to figure me out. There's the faintest flicker of surprise ,maybe amusement.

" What?" I roll my eyes.

" You're not going to give me a lecture about how they're better women out there and how you don't fit into my world?"

" And kiss three and a half million goodbye. No thank you. Hand me a pen ,please" Dante chuckles - a deep, rich sound that feels expensive somehow. He's still laughing when I sign the last page.

" We're officially what now, husband and wife?" I tease, handing over the papers.

"Engaged for now," he replies, signing his name with a lazy flourish. He glances up, the corner of his mouth lifting. "But give it twenty-four hours, Bellissima - and the world will think you tamed me." Such a smooth talker. I hate that I actually like his wit.

" Bellissima– what does it mean?"

" Most beautiful," his dimple deepen as he smirks. My heart performs a full-blown backflip.

" Huh," I murmur pretending to think . "So what do I call you, besides trouble?"

Before he can answer , the door flies open, a sharp thud echoes when it slams against the wall. A woman stands there, her eyes blazing, anger rolling off her in black waves.

" What the fuck Dante?!" She spits marching straight to him " You're cheating one me with this..." Her gaze finally lands on me like she's just noticing me and the disgust that flashes in her eyes could kill.

" This lowlife gold digging–"

"Enough!" Dante's voice slices through the air like a whip. A muscle ticks in his jaw, his hands curling into fists as he steps forward. He grips her elbow, firmly, and steers her toward the door.

"Stay here," he says to me, voice controlled but sharp. Then, without looking back, he shuts the door with a slam that reverberates through the room and I'm left alone.