5. Riley
“Oh fuck,”I gasp, my eyes rolling back. “Yes.”
“Hell, yes,” Dante echoes, resting his forehead on mine and staying there for a minute, breath ragged, and muscles locked. Every inch of his body vibrates with coiled tension as he grits out, “You feel even better than I expected.”
So does he. He really is big. He fills me up so damn well I almost can’t stand it. And I definitely can’t stand it if he doesn’t—
“Move,” I gasp, rocking against him. “God, I need… need…”
“I’ve got you,” he grunts, pulling back and then slamming deep enough to knock the breath out of me.
He goes from zero to sixty, setting a hard pace as if he’s trying to ruin me with his cock. And honestly, he might get his wish. Because not only is it big, but he actually knows how to use it.
“Shit, princess. You take me… so… fuckin’… well.”
He wraps a hand around the back of my head, pinning me to the wall while he does his damnedest to pound me right through it. He’s not trying to show me who’s in charge anymore. He doesn’t have to. Not when my body slams into the drywall with every word and I’m making noises that I’ve never made before in my life.
“Oh fuck, oh Jesus, Jesus fuck, Dante.”
His cock is working some kind of magic that has a whole stream of I-don’t-even-know-what spilling out of my mouth, but I’m too busy holding on for the ride to give a shit what I’m actually saying.
I can feel every hard inch of him, inside and out, and his thick, inked-up biceps flex under my hands as he slams into me again, hitting it just right.
“Louder, wild thing,” he orders when I gasp. “Take what you asked for. Let me hear it.”
Hell, the whole fucking club probably hears it.
And it’s not just the desperate sounds he’s got me making. Not just the wet slap of his hips or the hot, filthy way he grunts as he pounds into me. He’s fucking me so hard that shit is tipping over and falling off the supply shelves around us. Shit that breaks. Shit that, if anyone ever finds out I was back here, they’ll take out of my earnings.
Not that I care about that right now.
“Fuck!” I gasp as he hits a spot that sends a jolt through my entire body.
“Good?” he asks, not slowing down at all.
“Harder,” I pant. “Is that… all you’ve got?”
Dante laughs as my pussy starts to clench and ripple around him, then he tangles his hand in my hair and slams into me so hard that I cry out.
The noise pours from my lips just as the club music in the distance pauses for a set change, and Dante captures my loud cry with his mouth. When the thumping beat vibrating the wall he’s got me pressed against picks up again, he sucks on my tongue with a groan as I buck against him.
He paused balls-deep inside me when the music did, and now he grinds his hips in a circle that forces his cock in even deeper. His thick length is throbbing right up against my g-spot, so close to forcing another breath-stealing orgasm from me that I can almost taste it.
“Faster,” I demand. “I just—I need—”
“Goddamn, I love how greedy you are,” he mutters. “You need it hard, princess? You want to make sure I’m all you feel tomorrow? You want to think of me every time you take a step? I can do that.”
As he speaks, he starts fucking me again like he means it, knocking the air out of my lungs with every thrust. I cling to him, doing my best to keep my drooping eyelids from falling shut completely as my muscles shake from the exertion of holding on.
But then he stops, pulling out so abruptly that it leaves me gasping.
“Wha—?”
Before I can finish speaking, he spins me around to face the wall, pressing me roughly against it.
“Shit,” I curse, the word punched out of my chest.
“You’re so fucking incredible,” he rasps. “Your body is pure fire.” He grabs my hips, yanks them back, and slides back inside me from behind. “And fucking you is… goddamn. It’s perfect.”
He bottoms out with a single, brutal thrust, and I instantly forgive him for pulling out earlier.
“This tight little pussy is gonna kill me,” he grunts, his fingers digging into my hips.
Hearing the strain in his voice pushes me even higher. He’s close to losing it too, and it’s hot as hell to hear.
He reaches around and finds my clit, forcing a filthy sound out of my throat.
“Milk me,” he orders, his touch just as demanding as his voice.
It’s too much and exactly what I need all at once, and my inner walls clench and release around his fat cock, doing just what he told me to. Milking it until he’s the one making depraved sounds.
He holds me in place, pressing my upper body into the wall as his cock punches into me again and again, his breath an inferno on the back of my neck as he grunts with every thrust.
“So… fucking good,” he rasps. “Just like that. More, princess. That’s it. Now scream for me.”
He clamps his teeth down on my shoulder, his cock spearing me so deep that I swear I can taste it, and it’s over. I don’t just scream for him, I come so hard that it feels like he really did break me.
Waves of pleasure keep washing over me as he fucks me through it. I can’t move and don’t want to. Not now, not ever again, not even after he slams into me one more time and fills up the condom with a hoarse shout, then finally goes still, breathing hard.
Our breaths sync after a long moment, his body hot and hard and musky with our sex as his weight presses me against the wall.
I close my eyes, lost in the afterglow. All the restlessness I’ve been plagued with lately disappears for a minute, melting into a little slice of bliss that can’t last—but that was definitely worth breaking a few rules for.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, the words coming out slow as molasses.
“You took the words right outta my mouth.” Dante pushes my hair to the side and kisses the back of my neck with a low chuckle, then slaps my ass and pulls out.
The sharp sting makes me bite back a smile, my entire lower body tingling.
“I gotta admit, princess, I’m glad my business meeting ended up being here tonight,” he says, sliding off the condom and tossing it into a little trash can in the corner as I turn around to face him.
“Me too,” I murmur as he tucks himself away and zips up his pants.
Dante passes me my pants like a gentleman, and I pull them on bare, then snag what’s left of my g-string off the floor and dangle the scrap of sex-scented material in front of his face.
“Not so glad you cost me these,” I say, arching a brow.
That’s a lie. Sacrificing a pair of panties for the hottest sex I’ve ever had was totally worth it.
Dante chuckles, snatching the destroyed g-string from my hand and pocketing it before I can stop him.
“Memento,” he says with a wink. “I forgot to pick up a postcard in the giftshop, so this will have to do.”
“You’re an ass.” I snort, trying not to grin, then look around. “Where’s my top?”
His eyes heat up a little, and he moves in, wrapping one of those big, inked-up arms around my waist as he palms my breast. “You sure you want it? This is a good look on you.”
His hands on me feel a little too good, so I laugh and shove him away. Too good isn’t what I’m here for. This was a one and done, and it needs to stay that way. Especially because it already feels like he got to me more than he should have.
I just needed some stress relief, and he delivered. But now…
“We need to get out of here,” I tell him, spying my tank top hanging from a tipped-over case of cleaning supplies on one of the shelves.
I step over to grab it and slip it over my head, and Dante nods, a little smile hovering over his mouth.
“Sure thing, princess.”
But instead of leaving, he grabs the bottle of whiskey and takes another swig.
He doesn’t swallow it. Just lets the bottle dangle from his hand, sauntering over and crowding me up against the shelf behind me with a look in his eyes that makes me want to fuck him all over again.
“Dante,” I start, my pulse speeding up as I rest a hand on his chest.
He shuts me up by kissing me, letting the whiskey pour into my mouth as he wraps a hand around the back of my neck and holds me in place.
It’s possessive and dominant and hot as hell, and I moan, molding myself against him as my body throbs in response.
I swallow the whiskey, and he takes my mouth by storm.
No, not by storm. He’s a fucking tsunami. All that laid-back charm and lazy flirtatiousness is the deceptively gentle swell you’d see moving over the surface out in the deep. But once it hits the shore?
He’s not just intense, he’s fucking devastating.
I wrap myself around him, and he bites at my lips, devouring me like he’s starving. Kissing me like he’s trying to memorize my taste. Taking what he wants like he needs to get enough to last the rest of his life.
Or maybe I’m the one trying to get enough. Because the truth is, this man isn’t just a bad decision. He could easily become a dangerously addictive one.
Something crashes out in the hallway a few seconds later, loud voices moving past us, and I finally snap out of it when Dante laughs ruefully, his mouth curving against my lips as our eyes open at the same time.
“Gotta go,” he whispers, tightening his grip on the back of my neck for a second. Then he kisses me hard one more time, sighs, and steps back. “We good?”
“Golden.” I grin at him, my body still humming as proof of how true that is.
I’m halfway tempted to give him my number, although I have a rule about doing that too. But I’ve already broken the rule about not hooking up with anyone else here at the club, and even though I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened tonight, I know it’s probably better if this stays a one-time thing.
Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider it.
“I’d tell you to be good,” he drawls with a wink, “but I have a feeling that’s not really your style.”
I laugh, because even though neither of us knows more about the other than our names, he’s not wrong. “Guess you figured me out.”
His eyes roam over me appreciatively, his eyelids dropping to half-mast as he runs his fingers over my cheek. “I’d say so.”
He tucks a purple strand of my hair behind my ear, then lets his fingers drift down, tracing designs on my neck. Trailing them over all the spots where he sucked… bit… marked me.
He presses on one, and I drag in a sharp breath.
His eyes whip up to meet mine, his fingers hovering over my skin, and I can’t look away. Something hovers between us, and when I swallow hard, I know he can feel the movement beneath his fingertips.
After a long moment, he gives me a languid smile and drops his hand.
“Looks good on you,” he says. “Thanks for making my night, princess.”
And then, saving me from my own stupidity, he leaves.
The breath I didn’t even realize I was still holding whooshes out of me, and I turn away from the door and do a slow scan of the room. It’s good that he’s gone. That was… intense.
I stash my bottle of Crown Royal out of sight again and straighten up a few things that fell over while he rocked my world. Then I quit, because I’m not a fucking housekeeper and I really need to get out of here. The sex was…
I mean, yeah, it was insanely good, but also too much. Too intense, based on the way I got a little too caught up in it.
I’m just glad Dante’s not a regular like Rob. It means I’ll probably never see him again, so now I can check off my bad decision for the night and get on with my life.
I close my eyes for a second, inhaling the scent of sex and musk and his distinctive, spicy aftershave. Then I snap them open, force him out of my head, and slip out of the supply room.
Thankfully, I don’t run into anyone else as I leave the club. Musclehead is nowhere to be seen as I head to my car and slip inside, and I take a second to smooth down my sex-tangled hair before I turn the key in the ignition and peel out.
As usual, Chloe is still awake when I get home, curled up in her favorite spot on the couch. She glances up at me as I open the door, and her eyes immediately zero in on the hickeys on my neck.
Her jaw falls open slightly before she snaps it shut with a smirk. “Guess it worked, huh?”
“What worked?” I ask, closing the door behind me and locking it.
“Your mood ring,” she clarifies, coming up behind me and turning me around to face her. Her eyes skip from one mark to the next, darting over my throat, my collarbone, and the spot where he bit my shoulder. Then she arches an eyebrow. “Good night, sis?”
I roll my eyes. “It was a Tuesday. Slow as shit.”
The look she gives me almost makes me laugh. “It doesn’t look like it was a slow one,” she says pointedly.
I smirk, unable to stop myself. “I guess you could say it ended well.”
“Yesss! Tell me everything,” she exclaims gleefully. Then she frowns. “Unless you ended the night with Rob, because—”
“Oh, hell no.” I cut her off, making a gagging noise. “But I’ll have to tell you tomorrow. I need to shower and get some sleep.”
“Oh, come on…” Chloe puts on the pouty face that’s served her well since we were little kids, blinking hopefully at me.
I chuckle, but it turns into a yawn. Tuesdays really are slow, and it’s no later than I’m used to getting home, but Dante wore me the fuck out.
I ruffle Chloe’s hair and brush past her, stifling another laugh when I hear her mutter something about what a party pooper I am.
Part of me is tempted to skip the shower and let Dante’s unique smoky scent linger on my skin for a little longer, a reminder of what turned out to be a pretty damn incredible night. But I head to the bathroom anyway, turning on the spray and stepping under it when it reaches a lukewarm temperature.
By the time I finally towel off and crawl into bed, the only reminder of Dante I have is the lingering memory of his hands on my body, and how exhausted I am—in a good way, for once.