Bathroom fun
1304 Words
Gia POV
Gia had fluttered around the gala, talking to everyone and anyone she wanted to. It had felt so freeing—like slipping on the skin of the woman she used to be.
Men had flocked to her, and she’d taken full advantage. Let them fawn. Let Leo watch.
His eyes had burned into her more than once—and he looked pissed. But he couldn’t make a scene. Not here. Not in front of the dons. Not in front of Aubriella without revealing his true nature.
He was stuck babysitting his mistress, and she was going to take full advantage of it.
It had been on a whim, that she’d torn off a piece of napkin and scribbled on it, handing it to Dante. He’d been all that had been on her mind lately, and even it was just once, she wanted something just for her.
The bathroom door creaked open.
Gia’s heart thudded in her throat as she stood in the farthest stall—the door wide open, waiting for him to come and find her. But what if it wasn’t him? What if he didn’t come?
Footsteps echoed through the bathroom, coming closer, until his eyes met hers. Dante.
“What are you doing, Gia,” he whispered in a rough voice, his knuckles caressing her cheek. Gia closed her eyes, relishing in the moment, before she opened them—more sure than ever.
“Taking back my power,” she whispered, fisting the lapel of his tux as she pulled him down, her mouth crashing to his. Dante didn’t hesitate and kissed her back, hungry and full of passion.
They backed up into the stall, mouths connected. He kicked the stall door shut with his foot, his lips never leaving hers.
He pulled back only to kiss her jaw, going lower down her neck. She fisted his hair—enjoying the feeling of truly being wanted.
“Touch me, Dante,” she said, pulling back to look him in the eye. He looked at her—as if assessing her, before he let his hands caressed her breasts through her dress. Gia arched her back, enjoying every second—without a shred of guilt.
“I want you,” she said, tugging at his belt—surprised at her own boldness.
“No,” Dante said, grabbing her hands. Her eyes widened as they met his—it was like a punch to the gut.
“You deserve better than a bathroom fuck.” he added. “But let me make you feel good, let me take care of you,” He dropped to his knees with a smirk, lifting one of her legs through the slit in her dress over his shoulder—her dress falling to one side.
Before she could speak, his hands caressed her thighs, and his lips followed. He pushed her lace panties to the side and didn’t hesitate—sucking her lip into his mouth. Gia moaned.
“Shhh, bambolina, you’re going to get us caught,” his warm breath tickled her c******s. A surge of forbidden excitement coursed through her. Her eyes met his, and he smirked before pushing his tongue exactly where she needed it.
“I’m going to make you want to scream, but you need to be quiet for me. Do you think you can do that?”
Gia nodded.
“Good girl,” Dante whispered, slipping a finger into her. Gia let her head fall back against the bathroom stall, enjoying every second of his tongue on her.
“Still so f*****g tight, even after having my baby,” Dante whispered. The sound of his fingers going in and out of her slick heat echoed through the stall, only making her wetter.
“You like that, don’t you Bambolina? You taste divine,” his fingers dove deeper, curling just right while he sucked her c******s into his mouth.
The intensity of her climax had her legs trembling, and she nearly went through her knees, but Dante held her up. He pushed her panties back into place before standing with a smirk.
“Best dessert ever,” he smiled, licking his lips. Gia couldn’t help herself. Her hands snapped to his erection, her fingers curling around it through his pants--causing Dante to his.
“I don’t care about the bathroom stall. I need your c**k inside of me, Dante. I need you to f**k me as if it’s our last day on this earth.”
He seemed shocked by her command, but he kissed her hungrirly, letting her undo his belt, until—
The slamming of the door had them both frozen in place, before giggling followed and the sound of kissing.
“Don’t you f*****g ever bring someone else to a Gala again. You’re mine, Dario. You and that perfect c**k of yours.” A female voice spoke.
“f**k, you’re so f*****g perfect. Now let me show you just who I belong to.”
Dante groaned, but Gia held back a smile. Seemed like they weren’t the only ones with the same idea.
“Is that--?”
“Yeah, my brother. And Madeline,” Dante whispered.
“Madeline?” Gia mouthed. “Nico and Matteo are going to kill him,”
They could do nothing but listen to the sounds of passion echoing through the bathroom. Zippers opening, mouths devouring each other.
“Oh, I missed you,” Madeline groaned.
“I missed this f*****g p***y,” Dario’s rough voice followed, before the moans and grunts followed, the slapping of skin on skin, and eventually, a loud climax.
Gia giggled behind her hand while Dante cringed.
After another few minutes, the torture was finally over—and the couple left the bathroom.
Gia was still catching her breath, half-tucked into Dante’s chest, when she whispered, “I am never going to unhear that.”
Dante groaned quietly. “I need bleach for my brain.”
He kissed her softly one last time, his hands gentle now, reverent almost. “Go first. I’ll wait a minute.”
Gia nodded, fixing her dress in the mirror, adjusting her hair. She caught her own reflection and paused.
She looked flushed. Satisfied. Alive.
The woman in the mirror looked like someone who remembered who she was.
With one last look at Dante, who gave her a subtle nod, she opened the bathroom door and stepped back into the party.
The music played on as she slipped back into the crowd. Eyes followed her, some with curiosity, some with jealousy—but one gaze burned hotter than all the rest.
Leo.
He crossed the ballroom in long strides, stopping in front of her like he owned the floor.
His hand gripped her upper arm—not enough to bruise, but enough to remind her that he could. That he would.
“Where the hell have you been?” he hissed under his breath, keeping the smile on his face for the benefit of the crowd.
Gia blinked up at him, utterly unbothered. “Oops,” she said sweetly. “Looks like Aubriella needs your help.”
Leo turned just in time to see his mistress trying to dab her orange juice off the white silk dress shirt of Don Carlo—one of the most feared men in the room. Her lipstick was smudged, her laugh shrill.
Leo cursed under his breath and stormed off.
Gia turned away before he could look back. And as she passed a waiter with a tray of drinks, she grabbed a glass of wine.
Then—her eyes met Dante’s across the room.
He lifted his own glass slightly—a smirk on his face.
She smiled, slow and dangerous.
Gia Moretti was back—and she was going to beat Leo at his own game.
- Writer
