4. Riley
Dante’s handcircles my throat as he plunges his tongue into my mouth like he owns it, tipping my head back and holding me exactly where he wants me.
Fucking hell, he’s good at this.
I run my hands up the hard planes of his chest and lock them around his neck, and he makes a low sound, almost like a purr, as our kiss deepens. I suck on his tongue, tunnelling my hands up through the back of his short hair to keep him close, then gasp softly when he bites my lower lip like he’s reminding me who’s in charge.
His hand splays across my ass, yanking me into his crotch, and I make a hungry sound as I feel his cock growing against me like a bar of heated steel.
A thick bar. The man is fucking huge.
I hook my leg around his to pull our hips even tighter together because I want to feel more of it.He chuckles against my lips when the friction starts to feel good enough to make me moan, then breaks away from my mouth, stroking my throat as he stares down at me.
“Need something, princess?” he asks, using the hand he’s got on my ass to encourage what I’m already doing and grind us together even harder.
“You know I do. Isn’t that why you’re here?” I shoot back, staring him down as my breath starts to come faster.
His eyes blaze with heat, the green almost eclipsed by black, and his answering smile isn’t playful or charming this time. It’s fucking filthy.
Then his lips crash down on mine again. He almost bows me backward with the force of his kiss, like he’s trying to consume me. Inhale me. Imprint himself on me in some permanent, atomic-level way.
The music from the club beats through the walls like a pulse, pounding with the same rhythm as my clit. The same rhythm as the throbbing ache in my abused breast from the fucker Dante took down a few minutes ago. The same rhythm as the way I’m rocking against his body.
It all blends together as he takes control and takes me out of my head.
“Shit, I love how fucking wild you are,” he groans, forcing my head back to bite at my jaw before moving lower. Staking his claim with teeth, lips, and tongue as he sucks on my neck in a way that has me gasping out his name.
He slides his hands under my tank top, pushing me back a little so he can shove it up and out of the way. His eyes rake over me with approval when he sees that the tank was all I was wearing.
“Gorgeous.”
He thumbs my pebbled nipples, shooting hot sparks down to my pussy, then pulls my tank the rest of the way off and tosses it aside.
“I like this too,” he adds, running his hand down my dyed purple and blue hair before wrapping it around his fist.
My scalp burns a little when he tugs on it, forcing my head back and then trailing his fingers down my throat like he’s mapping out the marks he’s probably left there. He runs his fingers back and forth over my choker, then drags them down to my chest, his eyes following the same path.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs. “Even hotter than you looked on stage.”
He palms my left breast and squeezes it, the pressure just firm enough to make me gasp. When he tweaks my nipple, I hiss at the sharp burst of sensation as my pussy floods with wet heat.
“Too much?” he asks, arching a questioning brow at me as he keeps playing with my breast.
“Fuck, no,” I whisper, rolling my hips against him like he’s my stripper pole. “Don’t stop.”
He laughs, low and dirty, then puts that hot mouth of his back on mine and uses his grip on my hair like a leash as he walks me backward toward the wall. He presses me against it and grinds against me, holding my arms over my head with one hand as he plays with my body, grinding against me and kissing me like he’s got all damn night.
But as much as I like the idea of this going on forever, my clit is throbbing greedily, my pussy clenching like a second pulse, reminding me how badly I want to feel this man everywhere.
“Come on,” I pant, finally ripping my mouth away from his as I rock against him, my hands straining against the hold he’s got on my wrists. “Fuck. Dante.”
“Mmm, that’s right.” He gives a little hum, his hooded eyes dropping to my lips. “Say my name just like that.”
“Dante.”
I put more emphasis on the word this time, although I’m not sure if it sounds more seductive this way, or if it just sounds like I’m seriously considering punching him if he doesn’t give me more.
His low chuckle vibrates against me, but he drops my wrists, running his hands over my hair again. He drags the strands forward to spread them over my shoulders, draping my dual-colored locks down around my breasts and rubbing the silky hair against them.
“You’re a goddamn work of art, you know that?” he rumbles.
That’s actually one of the better compliments a guy has ever given me, and I might even blush a little if he didn’t have me so worked up that I feel like I’m about to go crazy if he doesn’t fuck me already.
So instead of using words this time, I grab his dick through his jeans.
He grunts, his eyes flashing with heat, then he pulls my hand away and pins it against the wall again.
“Patience, princess,” he says with a deliciously hungry smile. He winds his other hand around my hair and tilts my head to one side, then drags his nose along my neck, breathing me in with a groan. “Neither one of us is leaving this room until you’ve been good and fucked. But you don’t get to decide when that happens. And do you know why?” he whispers when he gets to my ear, tightening his grip on my hair.
I shiver, and it’s definitely not because I’m cold.
“Because you think you’re in charge,” I breathe, trying to give a taunting lilt to my voice—although just saying those words makes me feel like I’m about to combust.
Dante chuckles, that languid smile spreading over his face again, although his eyes still glint like a predator’s. “Close, but you got one word wrong. I don’t think it. I know it. Do you need me to show you?”
As soon as the final word leaves his lips, he spins me around to face the wall, fast enough to make me dizzy, then presses that big, hard body of his against my back, pinning me in place.
I can feel the throbbing beat of the club music working its way inside every inch of me as his hands start to roam over my body like he owns it.
My stomach flutters with anticipation as I push my ass back against him. “Yes. Fucking show me already.”
I feel his chuckle as much as hear it. “You’re fucking demanding.”
A strangled sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan leaves my mouth, because he’s one to talk.
But he’s also not wrong.
It’s been a while since I had sex with anyone, and given that the last dick I had anything to do with was Rob’s, it’s been even longer since a man has actually pressed all the right buttons to work me up.
Dante licks the skin under my ear, and hot sparks shoot through me. Then he grinds his cock into my ass, clamps his teeth down, and sucks.
I let out a ragged noise, a full-body shudder going through me that almost feels like coming.
“Oh god, yes,” I pant as soon as I have air again.
“Nah. I told you, it’s just Dante.” He reaches around to palm my pussy. “Say it.”
I roll my hips against his hand, hoping he’ll give me more pressure, but he doesn’t. A frustrated groan gets stuck in my throat. “Asshole.”
He laughs, removing his hand entirely, and I almost smile. He’s clearly enjoying making me desperate for him, and despite the fact that I’m not sure how much longer I can take being edged like this, I like it too.
“Fine,” I relent, craning my neck to narrow my eyes at him. “Dante.”
“That’s a good girl.” He grins savagely, rewarding me by rubbing my clit through my pants, hard and fast enough that he could almost push me over the peak just like this.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Right there. Don’t stop.”
I moan, planting my hands on the wall and resting my forehead against it as he gets me close. I’ve forgotten everything else about tonight—the great tips I made, the altercation with Musclehead, all of it. The only thing that exists is the scent and feel of the man behind me, his deep voice and confident touch, like he’s all my dirtiest fantasies come to life.
“Not such a princess now, are you, wild thing?” he murmurs, dark laughter in his voice. He pushes my hair to the side and kisses the back of my neck, still working me over with those rough, demanding, talented fingers of his. “You’re wet for me, I can smell it.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck and draws in a long breath. “I can feel it.” He drags his fingers up and down the front of my pants, right over my pussy, keeping me right on the edge. “You’re soaked right through.”
I whine before I can stop myself. He’s right. I am. For him.
For that thick cock he keeps grinding against my ass.
I push against the contact between us, going up on my toes and working myself against his fingers, my own fingers splaying over the wall as I try to get him to give me what I really need.
Dante chuckles, the low, dirty sound stroking me all over. “You’re a good fucking dancer, princess. Watching you on stage had me a lot more distracted than I should’ve been. But this? Watching you ride my hand is a thousand times better than watching you ride that pole.”
“I was… imagining it was your cock,” I whimper, the truth pulled out of me before I can stop it.
“Fucking hell.”
His hand stops moving for a moment, his forehead resting against the back of my head as if he’s trying to get control of himself. When his fingers move again, they expertly pop my pants open and reach inside. He slides his hand under the scrap of material covering my pussy, and a groan rumbles in his chest.
“You’re shaved,” he growls, sliding his fingers up and down my slick folds before pushing one inside me. “Goddamn, that’s fucking hot.”
He adds a second finger and starts fucking me with them. Not deep enough at this angle, but hard and fast enough to be pretty damn close to what I need.
“Dante,” I breathe, liquid arousal pooling low in my belly.
“You’re so damn wet for me,” he whispers in my ear, still working his fingers in and out of me. “So fucking tight. You’re going to feel incredible on my cock.”
His words go right to my clit, making it throb against the heel of his hand. I’ve never been with a guy whose voice alone—and the filthy things he says—could get me off all on their own, but between his touch and the things he keeps murmuring in my ear, he’s got me balancing on a knife’s edge of pleasure, desperate to hurl myself over to the other side.
“Please!” It bursts out of me. “I can’t… fuck. Just… make me come. Please.”
“How could I deny you when you beg so nice?” he groans.
Then he pinches my clit.
“Oh god!” I half groan, half scream, the orgasm white-hot and utterly brutal when it hits. So blindingly good as it slams through me that I feel like I’m floating.
“Fucking hell,” Dante grits out. “You want me to be your god, baby? Because I’d love to see you on your knees for me.”
I whimper an incoherent response, my whole body quaking so hard from the climax that it’s a damn good thing he’s here to hold me up. He grinds the heel of his hand against my clit to keep it going, whispering filthy, depraved promises in my ear until I sag back against him, the aftershocks finally calming down enough to let me catch my breath.
Not that he gives me much of a chance.
The second the orgasm finally stops rolling through me, he drags his slick fingers away from my pussy and turns me around to face him, pressing me up against the wall again. He tugs at my clothes, and it’s a fucking miracle he doesn’t tear my pants when he yanks them down to my thighs.
“Yes,” I gasp, already wanting more. That was one of the best orgasms of my life, but I have a feeling it’ll be eclipsed by the feeling of coming while he’s inside me.
He gives me a hot smile. “Don’t worry, princess. We’re not done here.”
He reaches between us to unzip his own pants, freeing his cock—and holy shit, it really is a beast.
He thrusts it against me, hands digging into my hips as he stares down at the smooth, rounded head rubbing over the front of my g-string. The silky material is soaked through, wet with my arousal, and he slides that monster against it with a filthy curse, right over my swollen clit.
Once, twice… and then his patience snaps.
“Kick off your shoes,” he orders, barely giving me time to do it before he has my pants all the way off.
He lifts me up, hitching one of my legs around his waist and pulling my g-string to the side to slip his cock into place.
He groans—or maybe we both do—then drops his head to suck hard on my neck as his hips rock forward in short, shallow thrusts that don’t quite penetrate.
Oh fuck. It’s torture. It’s fire.
“Do it,” I beg, writhing against him. “Give it to me.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, his breath ragged. He wraps a hand around his cock and slides it through the folds of my pussy again. “Look at that. You’re so fucking wet. Gonna feel fucking incredible.”
We both look down. The scent of sex is so thick in the air that I can taste it with every breath, and he’s right about how drenched I am. I’m so slick with it that it’s dripping down his cock.
I can’t look away.
“Oh god,” I breathe. “Fuck me.”
I feel like I’ve been hypnotized by the sight of his dick, my inner walls already clenching in anticipation of the stretch. All I want is to know what it’s like to have that thing inside me.
But thank fuck one of us is thinking a little more clearly than I am, because even though the low moan Dante lets out tells me he’s just as turned on as I am, he pulls back instead of doing what I begged him to.
Setting my feet on the floor again, he fishes a condom out of his wallet and rolls it on as our ragged breaths fill the space between us. As soon as he’s sheathed, he snaps the thin cords of my g-string like some kind of fucking caveman and tosses the ruined panties aside, not even bothering to see where they land as he lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist.
His cock notches at my entrance again, and this time, there’s no hesitation.
Holding me in place with his hands firm on my ass, he bottoms out in one smooth thrust.