Dante by Bethany-Kris

games with this man. “Who are you?”
    “Matteo Calabrese, though most people just call me Matty.”
    A fellow New York family. Their leader’s son, actually. Cat recognized his name from discussing surrounding territories with her men before she went in on Dante’s streets. 
    Well … merda .
    Cat retracted her claws, despite the creepy vibe the guy gave off. She couldn’t shame her future husband at his birthday party by ripping a new asshole into this … Matty.
    Matty sidled up beside Cat at the bar, pushing his frame onto a stool. “Can I buy you a drink, bellissima ?”
    “I would suggest you don’t call me sweet names,” Cat warned. “Dante won’t like it if he hears it, and truthfully, I don’t like to be treated as though calling me beautiful will make me melt into a quivering pile of estrogen. It won’t, but it will earn you one less ball between your legs.”
    Matty howled as if she were joking with him.
    Cat wished she was.
    “Touchy. A drink?” he asked again.
    As it were, she’d already slammed back a half of a dozen and she could feel the effects of the apple martinis. She probably should have laid off at the second, but they were her weakness in a club when she wasn’t working.
    “No, thank you.”
    Matty leaned over in his seat, close enough to Cat that she could feel his breath on her cheek. “What did he promise you to get you into his bed, hmm ?”
    “Excuse—”
    “Matty, long time no see.”
    The Calabrese man wasted no time moving away from Cat at Dante’s heavy laden greeting. There was a heat behind his tone. Definitely a warning. Cat met Dante’s intense gaze just long enough to know he was pissed.
    Without any warning, Dante leaned into Cat, placing both his hands to the bar on either side of her. The scent of whiskey and cigar smoke mingled with the aroma of his cologne. Cat’s blood heated at his proximity alone, the air in her chest sticking to her lungs like tar. The closer Dante came to Cat, the more motionless she turned. His nose skimmed her cheekbone as his mouth came to the shell of her ear.
    Shivers trailed along her skin as she exhaled shakily. There had not been a man who woke up Cat’s desire like Dante Marcello did in a long time. She didn’t have the first clue about how she was supposed to ignore a lust that burned as hot as hers could for him. Sometimes it stayed dormant, especially when Dante was stubborn and difficult. Other times, like now or when she least expected it to, it slammed into her like a tsunami of raw need.
    Goddamn, she had picked the wrong man to put a no physical rule on and marry at the same time. Cat should have known that from the first moment she met Dante as her tricks didn’t faze him and because he challenged her so blatantly.
    Men never challenged Cat once they knew her.
    Dante did.
    What on earth was he doing?
    What was wrong with her?
    “Play along, bella ,” Dante whispered. “I want my position with you clear so he doesn’t run his mouth back to his father that my wife is simply a hired bride. It may make my marriage look like a façade to the Commission. I don’t want that assumption out there.”
    Cat nodded imperceptibly, swallowing hard at the sensation of his lips ghosting along the shell of her ear.
    There was no time for Cat to react before Dante’s mouth was on hers. The kiss was anything but sweet and certainly not gentle; Cat didn’t mind. Her eyes flew wide at the taste of whiskey bursting along her taste buds when Dante’s tongue struck against hers. His teeth scraped to her bottom lip, tearing a piece of her carefully constructed wall of control down. A sweet sting brushed along her lips and chin from his stubble.
    Cat couldn’t breathe and she wasn’t entirely sure how long he kissed her for. Long enough for her fingers to fist into his dress shirt and pull him closer; long enough for his hands to leave the bar and find her waist, holding tight; and long enough for Cat to forget that the only reason