38. Juliette
Juliette
A fter our breakfast, the two of us changed into our gym clothes.
For me that was a sports bra and butt-hugging shorts. Dante opted for sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a plain white T-shirt. The abs that showed through that white T-shirt tempted and teased so much that I tripped over my own feet.
Dante’s reflexes were better than mine because before I even knew I was falling, his fingers wrapped around my elbow, steadying me.
“Got to keep your eyes up, Wildling,” he teased softly.
I met his dark eyes that burned with possessiveness and desire. He had no trouble staring at me and walking without tripping.
“Then why are you staring at me?” I mumbled, my cheeks burning already.
It had to be a permanent effect with this man. I never fucking blushed until he entered my life.
“Because I love your legs,” he murmured. “And your ass. Your tits too.” I shook my head, but damn it, I liked hearing him say he liked my body. I reached for the bottle of water and unscrewed the cap, taking a sip to cool off, when he continued, “But most of all I love the taste of your pussy.”
I choked, almost spitting the water out. Instead, I swallowed and sent it down the wrong pipe, causing me to cough and my throat to burn. Immediately, Dante’s hand came to my back and started patting it gently.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he grumbled. “I thought you knew I’m in love with your pussy.”
That’s not helping, I wanted to say but couldn’t find my voice.
Instead, I waved my hand and would have laughed if not for trying to clear my throat while tears burned in my eyes. Dante was fucking crazy, but it’d seem I kind of liked it.
“You trying to kill me?” I rasped, narrowing my eyes on him although there was no heat behind it.
“God, no.” He tugged me along to the sparring mats. “I love your pussy too much.”
Good Lord, this man would be the death of me.
“You haven’t been in my p—” It was so dumb but I couldn’t finish the word. I wasn’t bashful by any means, yet around Dante my tongue got twisted.
“Your pussy?” he finished for me with a smug grin. “You’re right, but I’ve tasted it.”
Dante and I stepped onto the mats, the soft cushion under our tennis shoes. There was a table to the side and his eyes scanned it. There were different types of knives lying neatly there.
The killer in me kind of liked it.
“I want the one with the smooth, short blade,” I told him.
He shot me a surprised look, but didn’t question me. Reaching for it, he grabbed it and handed it to me, then positioned himself across from me. He looked completely relaxed, as if he knew he could overpower me with the slightest effort.
He was in for a surprise.
Keeping my own smugness at bay, I gripped the knife. I wasn’t nervous. A part of me wanted to toy with him. Let him think I was clueless about fighting and then strike.
I dashed forward, Dante moved fast. Much faster than I did. He grabbed my wrist and whirled me around until my back collided with his chest. He might have won this round, but it gave me a chance to see how he moved.
“You win,” I breathed, painfully aware of his hard chest against my back. His pelvis against my backside. And a bulge that did things to my inner thighs. I ignored my body’s response and pushed away from him.
“Again,” I said, locking my eyes on him. My heart raced as the adrenaline rushed through my veins. I wasn’t sure if this got me pumping from fear or excitement.
He nodded.
I squatted my knees lightly, waiting for him to attack me. I should have known though that Dante always aimed to be a gentleman.
“Ladies first,” he purred.
He seemed unaffected. Like we were just out for a stroll, while my heart thundered under my ribs.
It was what my self-defense instructor called my weakness.
He said I got too emotionally invested. Whatever the fuck that meant.
I just wanted to win, otherwise I’d end up dead. So fucking sue me for wanting to live.
“Who says I’m a lady?” He should know better. I smiled darkly, ready to pounce on him.
“I do,” he drawled lazily. “You’re my lady.”
Okay, that was sweet. I’d give him that. I still wouldn’t go easy on him. So I launched to the left, then spun on my feet, sliding behind him. My hand came around his neck, my sharp blade pressing against his Adam’s apple. I had to raise myself on tiptoes, since he was so tall.
Dante whistled and he sounded impressed.
“Not bad, Wildling.” I grinned at his compliment, removing the blade from his throat. He turned around to face me, his eyes shining with pride. “I see I got the whole package with you. Beauty, brains, and a body that can kick ass.”
I chuckled. “Don’t go too far on brains. I have dyslexia, so reading is a pain.”
He tilted his head to the side, watching me pensively. “I didn’t know that.”
I rolled my eyes, slightly embarrassed. I never liked pointing it out. “I worked hard to overcome it, but it’s still there. Sometimes it’s harder to get through some books than others.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched me with eyes that always saw too much. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
“Regretting marrying your wildling?” I joked, yet something about the thought had my chest clenching uncomfortably. I didn’t like it.
“I want every inch of you, Juliette.” His voice was deep, his gaze burning with something I didn’t dare to identify. “I want to know you inside and out—all your good, bad, ugly, sad, happy. I want it all.”
A sharp intake of breath echoed through the air, and it had to be mine although I didn’t feel it.
Oxygen couldn’t enter my lungs because my chest squeezed too painfully.
I had learned to keep everyone out for so long that I wasn’t sure how to let this man in.
He seemed to have read my mind, because he said, “Let me in, Wildling, and I promise you, neither one of us are ever going to be the same.”
Well, fuck me!