Dante’s pants came faster. His chest was slick against my back. The sound of his thighs hitting my butt with every thrust filled the darkness, and mingled with my desperate moans and whimpers as I spiraled toward my second orgasm. I tried to hold it back, but Dante snuck his hand under me and flicked his thumb over my clit. “Come for me,” he whispered in my ear.
I shattered as pleasure shot through me in a torrent. Dante raised himself on his arm and really started pounding into me, harder and faster than ever before. I clawed at the sheets. He clamped his hands down on my hips and raised my butt higher as he thrust into me, his fingers digging almost painfully into my skin. I sunk my teeth into the pillow as I felt the treacherous signs of another orgasm rippling through me.
Dante thrust into me hard and let out a low groan, his fingers tensing against my hips. His erection expanded in my channel as he spilled into me and the fire in my belly raged through my body as I tumbled over the edge again. Dante collapsed on top of me, leaving open-mouthed kisses on my shoulder and neck as he whispered words too low for me to hear. I closed my eyes as my chest was trying to hammer its way out of my ribcage. I’d probably be sore tomorrow, but it had been worth it. I didn’t even care anymore that I hadn’t kept my promise to myself. Why should I deprave myself of a good time to punish Dante? I’d only be punishing myself.
Dante was getting heavy. I turned my head, hoping to breathe easier that way. I could ask him to get off me, but I knew the moment I did, he’d pull away again as he always did. I wanted to relish in our closeness for a little longer, even if it meant being crushed by his weight. He felt hot and strong, and pressed up like that it was hard to say where his body began and mine ended.
Dante raised his head and our lips met for another kiss, languid and unhurried, almost sweet, but then he rolled off of me. I turned around so I was facing him. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. It was too dark to make out his expression. I cautiously moved closer and rested my head on his chest. He tensed and I braced myself for his rejection. My own body stiffened in anticipation of the rebuke, but it never came. He relaxed, wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I finally dared to snuggle closer against him. I drew in a deep breath relishing in his warm scent that was becoming increasingly familiar; it was mixed with the musky aroma of sex. My hand came up to his stomach and I stroked him lightly. Was it the dark that made him more approachable? That made him forget who he was, who he wanted to be?CHAPTER FIFTEENI wasn’t sure what woke me but when I opened my eyes, the sun hadn’t risen yet. The sky was already lightning in the distance and provided enough light to make out my surroundings but that was it. Dante was pressed up against my back, his face half buried in my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin. It was uncomfortably warm but I didn’t move away. This was the first time I woke with Dante still in bed and he was actually holding me in his arms. Maybe his subconscious had accepted what he couldn’t; that he wanted to be close to me.
I kept my breathing even, tried to appear asleep, so I wouldn’t wake him. I must have dozed off again because I startled awake when Dante shifted away from me. I listened carefully, but he wasn’t getting out of bed. He’d rolled away from me in sleep if his rhythmic breathing was any indication. I slowly turned on my other side, so I could see him. He lay on his back, an arm thrown up over his face. The sheets were pushed down to the delicious V of his hips. I propped myself up on one arm, careful not to make any sound. My fingers itched to stroke his blond hair back, to tickle the ridges of his taut stomach, to follow the trail of fine hair down to his erection.
I reached out hesitantly and lightly brushed my fingers over his hair. Dante’s hand shot out lightning fast, gripping my wrist in a crushing grip. At the same time he sat up and his eyes met mine. I pressed my lips together. He released my wrist in a jerk. I rubbed it, lowering my eyes to the bruises already forming. Dante touched my naked waist, his hand warm and light on my skin. “Did I hurt you?” There was real concern in his voice.
I peered up, surprised. “It’s okay. I startled you.”
He grasped my hand and inspected the marks his tight grip had left on my wrist. His thumb brushed over my skin in a feather-light touch. “I’m not used to waking up beside someone anymore.”
It was the most personal thing he’d ever shared with me. I had to stop myself from digging deeper, from wanting more. “I know. It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”
He lifted his gaze, but his fingers kept up their light stroking on my wrist. “Did you and Antonio share a bed?”
“In the beginning, yes. It was for appearance’s sake mostly. We still had a maid then and we didn’t want her to get suspicious. At first it was like having a sleepover with a friend, but eventually it got awkward, especially when he came home smelling like his lover, so he fired the maid and we started sleeping in separate rooms.”
His eyes lingered on my exposed breasts. “I can’t imagine a man looking at you and not wanting to have you for himself.”
I flushed with happiness, but I decided to keep the mood light, worried a more emotional response would make Dante retreat again. “I think Antonio would have said the same about you. I think you might have been his type.”