┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Habits

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Smut ahead

Chapter 25: Habits (Anastasia's POV)

The smallest grin tugged at my lips as Dante uttered those words. "Is that a promise?" I whispered, my head fell back upon feeling his teeth nipping at my skin, then slow kisses traveling to my ear. 

My breath hitched as his hands tightened around my hips, and he drew me closer, bringing my body to his own until we were flush together. My dress lay discarded on the floor, Dante's shirt was tossed somewhere alongside it, and I had no bra on tonight to begin with. 

He pulled back just enough to look at me as we both struggled to catch our breaths while his fingers glided over my thigh, undoing the knife sheath and sliding it off, tossing it aside. "Fuck, Anastasia," he rasped out, tracing the curve of my waist, his fingers slowly inching up. 

Catching the hand I braced on his chest, he brought it down to his belt. I paused, my fingers shaky as I traced the buckle of his belt, meeting his gaze. 

"Take it off," he demanded, dropping his palms to my thighs, where he lazily touched and teased. 

While my breath audibly hitched, I worked to undo his belt and slide it off just before Dante stole it out of my grasp. 

I'd sworn to myself, only this morning, that I wouldn't do this again, that I wouldn't let it happen again, yet here I was with every nerve inside of me, every inch of my body screaming for him. 

The moment I'd opened my front door to him tonight, the sight of him had made me second guess my rational decisions. After arriving at the gallery, we got too swept up in work, and the horrifying scene we'd come across tonight sent my mind spinning. 

It was the way he looked at me when I told him about another man that stirred something else within me. 

Dante was by no means a jealous person in this life, mostly because his world began and ended with himself. He'd always only been focused on progressing and succeeding in his life. I made that man crumble, no matter how well he concealed it; I could see through it. 

Lifting a hand, he took my jaw in a firm yet oddly gentle way, forcing my eyes up to his own. "Last chance," he said, his gaze dipping to my lips. "You should leave, Anastasia." As he leaned in, his lips brushed against my ear. Then he whispered, "Run." 

Drawing back ever so slightly, I met his gaze. A beat passed, then another, but I didn't move an inch. That was my chance. He was giving me an out. 

God knows why because I certainly don't... but I didn't take it. 

A sharp gasp escaped me as he pinned my wrists together, looping the belt around them. "Now, I'd suggest you listen to me very carefully, Ms Vitalio," he began, his eyes dropping to my wrists, where he continued drawing one knot after the other, bounding my wrists together. 

I couldn't bring myself to look away from him. 

Every little move he made dripped with such security and confidence. Hints of anger cracked through the calm demeanor he always maintained. "I don't like repeating myself, do you understand?" Securing the belt with a sharp tug, he stepped forward and braced his hands on the table, caging me in. 

When I sat utterly still and silent, he tilted his head slightly and lifted a questioning brow at me. Taking a breath, I nodded once. 

"Use your words, Mia Cara, since you're so good at it," he taunted, lifting his thumb to trace my bottom lip, his fingers shifting to cup my jaw. 

"Yes, I understand," I whispered. 

Satisfaction settled in his gaze as he gave me a nod of approval, mumbling, "Good girl." With one step back, he increased the gap between us, then demanded, "Stand up." 

It was as if I was under a spell because without uttering a single question or challenge, I got off the table and rose to my feet. With my wrists bound in front of me and my dress discarded on the floor, I felt oddly bared. There was nothing I could do to stop him, and although I knew Dante would never do something to hurt me or do something without my consent, it felt strange giving him such power over me. It had been a while. 

"Turn around," he said. 

My breath went utterly still, lodging itself in my throat. "Dante..." 

A soft sigh escaped him as he inched closer, resting a hand on my hip as he lifted the other to tilt my chin up. "Do you know what happens when you misbehave?" he asked. 

Blood rushed inside of me, and I could hear my heart pounding beneath my rib cage when he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder, then my collarbone. 

Each kiss traveled up my neck, his teeth lightly grazing my earlobe as he told me, "I don't care if it takes all night, Mia Cara, you'll learn to do as I say." Pulling back, he met my gaze. "Be good for me, and I'll untie you. Don't you want to touch me?" 

My eyes dipped to his chest, then lower to his abdomen. Oh, I did. I really fucking did. 

"Don't push me any further, Anastasia. Do you think I'm joking? Do you think I won't punish you?" He took a small step back. "Turn around," he repeated, "that's the last time I will repeat myself." 

Hesitantly, I spun around, turning my back to him. I felt him come closer, felt his chest brush against my back as his palms swept over my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he gripped me. 

"Bend over," he whispered into my ear. "Put your hands on the table." Before I could move even an inch, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and began tugging them down my legs until I could step out of them. His lips were against my throat again when I felt him smile against my skin. "Do I make you nervous, Anastasia?" he teased. He did unspeakable things to me and my body. 

I inhaled shakily as his palm slid across my waist and up my back, where he applied pressure and pushed me down until my hands were braced above the table. Everything felt so overwhelming, all at once. I couldn't hardly take it.

 A soft moan escaped me as his touch grazed across my hip and slipped between my legs while he drew my hips against his. I kept my eyes closed, every single sensation burning through me with such intensity, it set me ablaze. 

His fingers moved slowly with precision and intent as he dragged them up my inner thigh before his thumb finally brushed my clit, eliciting a gasp from me. My hands instinctively clenched into fists as I struggled to hold myself up. 

A light and amused chuckle escaped him as he repeated the motion, making my breath hitch. I forced out a dry scoff, "Like what you see, Mr Rossi?" 

Leisurely, his left hand traveled up my spine, and Dante took his time until he gripped the nape of my neck and tugged me back upright, his chest firmly pressed against my back now. "I certainly do, Ms Vitalio," he smirked, slipping a finger inside of me then relishing in the moan that escaped me as my head fell back against his shoulder, my eyes closing. "You look good when you're bent over for me," he teased, adding another finger inside of me. 

Holding myself upright while he worked his fingers inside of me felt impossible. My legs would have given out if he hadn't kept an arm secured around my waist while he left a trail of slow, hot kisses across my shoulder and neck. Positioning a foot between both of mine, he eased my legs further apart then applied more pressure to my clit. 

"Fuck, please," I cried out, my nails digging into my palms I tightened my fists. 

With each move he made, he picked up his pace, and with each second that passed, I felt myself coming undone bit by bit, a flame ignited in my core. My breaths turned shallow, and my entire body was flushed with heat. God, I couldn't fight it anymore, couldn't fight him. 

I could keep pretending I didn't want him anymore, but with each time he touched me, kissed me, and fucked me, he only made me more desperate, more needy for him. Dante was dangerous and sinful yet magnetic and addictive, like whiskey on ice. He was my bad habit, and old habits always die hard. 

"Tell me, sweetheart," he whispered, "could he touch you like this?" 

My eyes snapped open as his words washed over me while his fingers moved mercilessly inside of me, drawing me closer to orgasm. I began shaking my head lightly, struggling to stifle my moans. 

We were at the office, and although we were alone, this was the FBI headquarters. There were plenty of cameras stationed outside my cabin and plenty of security patrolling the grounds. Anybody could step out onto the floor, and they would hear me moaning and screaming for Dante beyond these doors. 

His arm around my waist loosened as he trailed fingers up my body and over my breasts, along my throat, and to my chin before brushing a thumb across my lip. "Let me hear it from that pretty little mouth," he demanded, "answer me." 

"No," I rasped out, "no, he couldn't. He won't." 

"That's it," Dante praised, swirling his thumb over my clit. "He'll never get the chance, will he, Anastasia? Would you let him fuck you the way I do?" 

"No," I repeated, dropping my head against his chest. "Please, Dante, I can't take it anymore." 

"I'm not done with you yet, Mia Cara." 

"Please," I begged with complete abandonment, "please, just let me come. I promise..." The words sat on the tip of my tongue, but making promises and surrendering myself to Dante felt like selling my soul to the Devil. 

"Mm-hmm, tell me," he urged. I could hear the pride and smugness in his tone. 

A soft groan crawled up my throat, frustration morphed into pleasure. "I promise, I'll be good," I offered. 

He'd kept me teetering on the edge of my release for so long it was getting harder to tell the difference between pleasure and pain. Everything he did to me felt agonizingly good, but he just wouldn't drive me over the edge. 

"Enough, please, I can't take it anymore," I breathed out, the faintest whimper escaping me as he pulled away. The disappointment died in my throat when he spun me around to face him and backed me into the table, lifting me onto it with just one arm around my waist with extreme ease. All sensations increased tenfold now that I was looking at his eyes. 

"Will you do as I say?" he asked. 

I nodded frantically as I struggled to keep my hands to myself until he'd let me touch him. "Yes," I agreed, spreading my legs wider as he stepped between them and eased his fingers back inside of me, eliciting another gasp followed by a loud moan. 

Minutes passed. He'd been torturing me sweetly for nearly forty-five minutes, and I was sure I couldn't handle it if it went on any longer. 

"Beg," he finally whispered, his lips brushing against mine. 

"Fuck, please," I inhaled shakily, "I've never wanted anyone this badly. You have no idea how much I despise you for it." 

"You despise me," he echoed, "but you're dripping all over my hand, Anastasia." 

"Let me touch you," I said, meeting his eyes. 

Instead of giving me an answer, he simply grabbed the belt that bound my wrists and brought my hands to his chest, allowing me to feel him. 

Almost immediately, my hands slid down his torso and abdomen until I grabbed his waistband and drew his hips forward, pulling him closer. "Please, Dante, I need to come," I panted. 

The end of my plea was silenced as his lips came down on mine, and he curled his fingers inside of me, drawing me over the edge. My orgasm crashed into me, and my moans were stifled by the kiss while his arm remained taut around my waist, keeping me steady. Dante continued until I rode my orgasm out and couldn't handle his touch anymore. 

Applying pressure where my hands were braced on his chest, I broke the kiss with a small whimper, pushing his hand away from me and closing my legs. Heat crawled up the back of my neck as reality slammed into me. 

Sighing softly as a storm of emotions took shape within me, my head fell forward. 

God, what does he do to me? 

A minute passed before I felt him take my hands and gently undo the belt, placing it aside. My wrists were slightly red from the restraints of his belt, but the way he ran his thumbs along the marks caught me by surprise. 

Naturally, my head snapped up, and I watched with curiosity as he eyed the marks for a minute before lifting each wrist to his lips and leaving the softest kiss on my skin. "What are you doing?" I asked softly. 

His gaze met mine. "Did it hurt?" 

I blinked. "A... a little but..." 

"I don't like that," he replied. 

I paused briefly before saying, "You didn't hurt me. You didn't do anything I don't like. You never do." I tugged at his waistband lightly when he let out a small breath and glanced at the window, breaking eye contact. 

"Mr Rossi," I whispered, tracing his tattoo with a finger before I left a light kiss on his neck, then one on his shoulder, another on his chest until I finally had his attention again. I unhooked the button on his pants. "Don't I get a turn?" I asked. 

"Fuck," he cursed softly, tearing my hands away. "Not here. It's getting late, we could get caught." 

I watched him as he grabbed his belt, then rounded my desk and opened a drawer, knowing I kept spare clothes in there, before he came back to me. 

"Let me take you home," he said. He was still... hard. But he wasn't initiating sex. A pause and then a tiny smirk as he tipped my chin up. "Don't worry, Mia Cara, I'll fuck you as many times as you like once I get you home." 

I glanced at the torn dress splayed on the floor. "You ripped my dress," I pointed out. 

"Charge me for it," he mused, handing me my panties. 

Rolling my eyes at him, I swiped them from him and got dressed, cleaning up the room with him before we headed out.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 25

I didn't update in almost a week?!

Y'all I honestly don't know where I went I just got swept up with uni application stuff my bad 💀💀

next ch: poker