Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 191

Gianna's POV

"I've been working.”

"You leave early. You come back late." I moved closer to the bed, my body tingling with awareness, every nerve ending hyperconscious of the barely there lingerie I wore. "It feels like you barely have time for me anymore."

Dante leaned back against the headboard.

"What do you want me to do, Gianna?"

"I want..." I trailed off, unsure how to say it, how to admit that I wanted him to look at me the way he had on our wedding night, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"What?" His voice was careful, controlled.

"I want us to stop pretending."

"Pretending what?"

"That this is just an arrangement. That we do not feel anything."

Dante's face went hard. The mask slipped and I saw hurt underneath, anger, frustration. "I'm following the boundaries you set."

I blinked. "What boundaries?"

"The ones where we do not have to pretend when it is just us. Nobody is here to perform for, remember?" He threw my own words back at me, and they stung.

"That is not... I did not mean..."

"Then what did you mean?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "Because from where I'm sitting, you made it pretty clear what you wanted. Or what you did not want."

Frustration built in my chest. "You are making this so difficult."

"I'm not the one making it difficult." His gaze pierced into me, and the intensity made my knees weak. "I'm not the one who keeps changing the rules."

Screw this.

"You know what? Forget it." I climbed onto my side of the bed, pulling back the covers with more force than necessary. "Forget I even tried."

"Tried what?" Dante sat up straighter, something shifting in his expression. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Good night."

I slid under the covers, turning my back to him. But I made sure to arch my back slightly, pushing my ass out as I settled into position.

The movement was intentional, letting him get a good look at what he was rejecting.

Then I felt the bed shift. Dante's hand caught the covers, yanking them down roughly.

"What are you trying to do?"

I pulled the covers back up defiantly. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Gianna." There was a warning in that single word.

"What?" I did not turn around, but my heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

"What were you trying to do tonight?"

"I already told you to forget it."

I adjusted my position again, pressing back slightly, a slow, subtle grind. The lingerie rode up my thighs, and cool air brushed against my bare skin.

"I want to go to bed," I let my voice come out breathy. "And I want my husband to go to bed with me."

He let out a breath, almost strained.

"I need to wrap up some work."

I sat up, turning to face him, not bothering to hide my frustration anymore.

The movement made my breasts bounce slightly, and I saw his eyes track the motion before he caught himself.

"Really? You do not even want to sleep beside me?"

He huffed, like he had no choice. "Fine."

He closed the laptop fully with more force than necessary and practically slammed it on the nightstand.

"Happy?"

"Thrilled," I grinned playfully.

He slid under the covers on his side of the bed, leaving space between us.

Before, Dante had always been touchy, always finding excuses to pull me close, to wrap his hands around me while we slept.

Now he lay at the very edge of the mattress, as far from me as physically possible, his body rigid with tension.

The rejection stung, but I was not giving up, not after coming this far.

I shifted closer, deliberately closing the distance he had created.

"Dante?"

"Yeah?" His voice was strained.

"Will you hold me?"

He groaned like I was torturing him.

"Gianna..."

"Please." I let the word come out needy.

He moved closer reluctantly, his arm coming around my waist like he was not sure he should be touching me.

His body was solid against my back, familiar, every hard plane of muscle pressing against me through the thin lingerie.

And I could feel something pressing against me.

Finally.

Excitement shot through me. At least some part of him wanted this.

I relaxed into him, letting my ass settle more firmly against his cock.

Oh God, he was so hard. I could feel the length of him, the thickness, and it made my core clench with need.

Unable to help myself, I ground back against him in a circular motion. The rhythm made him throb against me, his cock twitching.

"Gianna." His voice was strained, his breath hot against my neck. "What are you doing?"

"Fuck, Gianna." He looked at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle, like I was some complex equation he could not quite figure out. "What do you really want?"

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with implications.

I thought of my father's voice, echoing in my head. Men do not like desperate women, let them chase you. Never make the first move. Always make them work for it.

But I was tired of waiting and pretending.

"I want you to touch me," I whispered, the words barely audible.

Dante stared at me for a long moment.

"Why did you not just ask?"

"I..." I looked away, shame heating my cheeks. "It is supposed to be the man who does all that."

"Who taught you that?"

"My dad."

"Fuck Lorenzo." The words were harsh, angry, almost violent.

Dante pushed himself up, sitting back on the bed, putting distance between us when all I wanted was for him to get closer.

"And fuck his outdated bullshit."

I blinked up at him, surprised by his vehemence, by the genuine anger in his voice.

"Since you are the one asking," his voice was much calmer now but still edged with darkness and heat, "if you want me to touch you, then you have to take the lead."

“Oh.” I gasped. "I do not know how."

"Oh, you do." He shifted, settling back against the headboard, crossing his arms behind his head in a pose that was infuriatingly casual.

His shirt pulled tight across his chest, and I could see the outline of his muscles, the definition of his abs.

Lower, his cock was still hard, straining against his pants, creating an obvious bulge that made my mouth water.

"I have taught you."

"How to suck your cock," I shot back, frustration making me bold. "Not how to dominate you in bed."

A slow smile spread across his face, challenging.

"Then maybe it is time you learned."

"Dante..."

"Show me where you want my hands." His voice was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

My breath hitched.

"I cannot."

"You can." His eyes held mine, dark and intense. "Or we can go to sleep. Your choice."

I stared at him, my heart racing, my body throbbing with need.

This infuriating, gorgeous man was going to make me beg for it.