I Lied I’m His Stepmom, He Wants To Marry Me

Chapter 4

After the hospital visit, Dante seemed like a different person.

Or more accurately, he started acting a little like his old self.

He began taking care of me in every possible way.

If I was thirsty, warm water appeared before I could ask.

If I worked late revising plans, a plate of perfectly cut fruit would silently appear on my desk.

If I casually mentioned craving pasta from a certain Italian place, the chef from that restaurant was brought to the house the next day.

These gestures were so familiar they made me uneasy—because this was exactly how Dante had courted me back then.

That night, I came out of the shower too lazy to dry my hair and just wrapped it in a towel.

Sure enough, Dante was waiting outside with the hair dryer.

"Sleeping with wet hair is bad for you," he said. "Come here, I'll dry it."

I didn't refuse.

Warm air flowed gently. His fingers parted my long hair, combing it softly with perfect pressure, carefully avoiding the most sensitive spot on my scalp.

I looked up at him and couldn't help saying, "You're really different from before since the amnesia."

His hands paused for half a second. He asked softly, "Was I… bad before?"

"You were good," I said. "You treated me very well."

Anything I wanted, no matter how expensive, would appear the next day. Anywhere I wanted to go, he'd cancel everything to take me. He was always the first to notice if I was happy or upset.

He kept me in the palm of his hand, attending to every little thing.

"It's just… you were too good," I added. "So good you lost yourself."

"I didn't want your whole world to revolve only around me."

He had his own empire and a massive family to run. His life shouldn't center entirely on me.

When I couldn't give him the same level of attention in return, I felt guilty and anxious.

"Then… do you hate who I used to be?" he asked quietly.

"Dante, you're talking a lot tonight," I laughed.

He lowered his eyes, hiding his emotions. "Am I?"

My hair tangled around his fingers—then he suddenly yanked it back.

The next second, he gripped the back of my neck and kissed me hard.

The kiss was dominant, possessive, and expertly skilled—pure Dante Lawson.

In moments my legs went weak; I could barely stand without leaning on him.

He chuckled lowly, scooped me up, and carried me straight into the bedroom, tossing me onto the big soft bed.

Before I could catch my breath, he was over me, hands braced on either side of my body, dark eyes burning with intense desire.

"How much longer were you planning to lie to me?" Dante's voice was low and husky, thick with barely contained hunger. "My… stepmother?"

He leaned down and bit my earlobe, tongue teasing the sensitive skin, trailing kisses down my collarbone and chest. He tore open my buttons amid my quickened breaths.

Rough palms cupped my soft breasts, thumbs expertly teasing the peaks. I arched, moaning softly. His mouth closed over the other side, sucking and nipping, teeth grazing just enough to send electric jolts of pleasure through me.

I reached to pull off his clothes, but he caught my wrists and pinned them above my head, holding me down.

"Are you still going to be my stepmother tonight?" he asked in a low voice. His other hand slipped under my skirt, fingers finding the slick heat and slowly circling my most sensitive spot.

My body shook violently as wetness poured out. His fingers thrust in without mercy, pumping and drawing out obscene wet sounds.

"Dante…" I moaned his name shakily. His eyes darkened with lust. He quickly stripped off the last of his clothes.

His thick, burning-hard c**k sprang free, so long and heavy it made me tremble.

He spread my legs, hips sinking down as he buried himself to the hilt in one ruthless thrust.