I leaned forward and licked his shaft slowly from the base to the tip before I dipped my tongue into the tiny opening. Dante gripped the back of my head and gently held me in place as I trailed my tongue around his tip over and over again, barely touching him.
His fingers in my hair twitched and he nudged me slightly forward. “Suck my cock, Val.” It was the first time he’d called me by my nickname. I cupped his tip with my lips and began sucking, making sure to run my tongue around the rim now and then. Dante watched me through hooded eyes as he massaged my scalp.
I took him deeper and then started bobbing my head up and down how he liked it. Dante’s eyes never left me. He started bucking his hips and tightened his grip on my head as I sucked him harder. “I’m coming,” he said in warning. I felt him tense as his climax overwhelmed him. His cock jerked and he erupted in my mouth. I tried to swallow while keeping up my sucking. Dante groaned, still rocking his hips and his hooded eyes fixed on me. These were the moment he allowed me the occasional glimpse behind his guarded mask.
I could feel him softening in my mouth and I released him from my lips. A defiant part in me wanted to ask him if that meant he’d forgiven me for the mess with Frank, but the reasonable side of me won.
Dante dropped his hand from my head and went limp, squeezing his eyes shut. I quickly wiped my mouth as long as he wasn’t watching and checked my décolleté for stains. My own arousal was a throbbing between my legs. Dante shifted, drawing my attention back to him. He stared at me with an unreadable expression and I was starting to feel self-conscious. I stood but Dante did the same, towering over me in his posh white dress shirt, gun holster and half-open dress pants. I searched his eyes but as usual I couldn’t read him.
He cupped my neck and crashed his mouth against mine. I gasped in surprise and his tongue slid in. He used his body to back me up until my legs bumped into the edge of his desk. He gripped my hips and hoisted me on top of the cool surface, stepped between my legs, still possessing me with his mouth and tongue, making my legs go numb and my heart slam against my ribcage. God, Dante could kiss. I wished he’d do it more often.
He grasped my shoulders, stopped kissing me and eased me down until I lay flat on his desk. I stared up at him, forcing myself to lay still and let him admire me, when all I wanted to do was rip the buttons off his shirt and have him inside me. Dante seemed to know what I wanted. The dark smile was back and the cool sophistication had been replaced by something feral and hot. I bit my lip and spread my legs even wider, making my nightgown ride up.
I knew Dante could see what was below it: nothing. I wasn’t wearing panties.
He released a harsh breath, but he still wasn’t touching me and it was driving me to the brink of despair. I tried to grab his shirt but he stepped out of my reach. “No,” he said with authority. The voice he only ever used when he was giving orders to his soldiers. It was the sexiest sound in the world, but I was burning up with need. “Touch me.”
“I’m still angry with you. Sex won’t change that. You disobeyed my direct order.”
He couldn’t be serious. If this was another form of punishment, I’d lose it.
“Let’s see if you learned your lesson. You will obey me now, won’t you?”
I almost moaned at the timbre of his voice and look in his eyes. “Yes,” I said quickly.
He took another step back, his eyes meeting mine. “Spread your legs wider.”
I didn’t hesitate. The air in his office felt cool against my heated flesh but it did nothing to alleviate the burning need. Dante unfastened his gun holster without hurry, never taking his eyes off me. “Touch yourself.”
My eyes widened, but again I complied. When he used that voice, I had a hard time resisting. I slid my hand down my body and between my legs. Part of me was embarrassed. That definitely wasn’t something a respectable wife did according to my mother. But the bigger part enjoyed the way Dante’s eyes darkened as he watched my fingers slip between my folds and the way his lips parted. He let the gun holster drop to the floor with a clunk. He was growing hard again as he watched my fingers draw small circles over my clit.
“Put a finger into your pussy.”
I shook with arousal as I followed his order. I dipped my index finger into my hot core. A muscle in Dante’s cheek flexed and his cock was straining against its prison again. I could see how much he wanted to touch me, to fuck me, but Dante was nothing if not in control of himself and others. He stepped between my legs, gripped my wrists, and I slid my finger out of my tight channel, hoping he’d do it for me now.
“No,” he growled. “Keep fucking yourself with your finger.”
How could he sound so dangerous and sexy at the same time? How could that cold man say such naughty things with utmost authority? I pushed my finger back into myself, even though my clit practically screamed for attention. Dante stared down at me, his jaw tense. He pushed the top of my nightgown down, revealing my breasts. My nipples hardened from the cold and Dante’s piercing gaze. He took my nipples between his forefingers and thumb, and started rolling them back and forth. I arched my back, but didn’t stop fingering myself.
I reached for Dante’s shirt, but he pinched my nipples in warning. “No,” he rasped. I bucked my hips at the sensations rocking through my body, the sensual pain I started to enjoy more than I ever thought I could. Dante’s fingers twisted and rolled my nipples relentlessly. My core quivered with the need to come. “Dante, please.”