11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Dante
E velyn twists away from me, her fingers already working the lock on her office door with practiced ease. She drags me inside, and when she turns back to face me, there's a wicked gleam in her eyes.
My brows arch in a silent challenge as she begins to slowly undo the buttons on her blouse, one by torturous one.
"Ms. Hughes," I drawl, fighting to keep my expression impassive. "In the library?"
She regards me through her lashes, her lips curved in that sweet, secret smile that's become my undoing. "Well, Mr. Romano, I do want to keep you on your toes." The words are a low, throaty purr as she lets the fabric of her blouse slip from her shoulders in a whisper of silk.
Christ.
I can't tear my gaze away as inch after glorious inch of creamy skin is revealed to my hungry stare. The gentle swell of her breasts strains against the lace of her bra, and suddenly, it's as if all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. My lungs burn with the effort of drawing breath past the desire coating my throat like viscous smoke.
Evelyn takes a calculated step toward me, her hips swaying. My hands clench against the urge to reach for her, to yank her body flush against mine.
"You know," she murmurs, drawing ever closer until the scent of her—warm vanilla and the faintest hint of old parchment—surrounds me. "I’ve always wanted to make love in the stacks.”
The blatant invitation in her tone sends a rush of heat blazing through my veins. In the same breath, a strangled rumble tears from my chest as she reaches out to trail her fingertips along the stark line of my jaw.
"Is that so, tesoro ?" The endearment slips free in a low rasp as I fight to maintain what tattered shreds of control still remain.
"Mmm." That sweet purr again, this time accompanied by a slight nod. "Why, I've heard tales of secret trysts unfolding in the dustiest corners of the archives, carried out in breathless silence beneath the very noses of the oblivious masses."
With a growl, I surge forward, capturing her mouth in a desperate kiss. Evelyn melts against me with a soft whimper, her fingers burying themselves in the hair at my nape as she rises onto the balls of her feet to meet me with equal fervor.
The world narrows to this—the scorching press of her body against mine, the velvet glide of her lips, the tiny, desperate sounds she utters into the heated space between us. My hands roam freely, spanning the dip of her waist, skimming the flare of her hips.
When the need for oxygen becomes too insistent to ignore, I tear my mouth from hers with a ragged groan. Evelyn's chest is heaving, her lips swollen and glistening. She blinks up at me through a heavy-lidded gaze.
"Dante..." My name falls from her lips like a sacred prayer, igniting an answering blaze low in my abdomen.
"You'll be the death of me," I grate. The words are half vow, half warning as my lips blaze a searing path along the tender hollow of her pulse point. "You undo me in ways I never could have fathomed."
She arches against me with a breathy moan, her fingers tightening convulsively in my hair. "And you make me feel utterly alive," she confesses in a heated rush.
Capturing her mouth again, I walk us blindly toward the ancient oak desk. With one sweeping motion, I brush aside the stacks of books and papers, blatantly uncaring of the chaos I've created. All that matters is Evelyn, soft and pliant in my arms, as I lift her to sit atop the polished wood surface.
She breaks the kiss with a ragged gasp, her eyes blazing in the dim light. For a suspended heartbeat, we simply stare at one another—chests heaving, desire crackling like lightning in the charged space between our bodies.
Then Evelyn's fingers are working at the buttons of my shirt. The fabric parts and her palms sear delicious trails over the hard planes of my abdomen, upward along the corded sinews of my chest. A low, guttural groan tears free as she rakes her nails through the crisp hair with just enough gentle sting to send white-hot pleasure lancing straight to my core.
I slide her skirt up around her hips, and my fingers delve into the damp heat between her thighs, parting her folds with a hunger that belies my usual restraint.
"Dante," she moans, her hips arching in wordless invitation as she grinds her pussy against my questing fingertips. The sight of her, wanton and undone, sends a jolt of pure lust straight to my core.
" Dio mio, tesoro ," I growl, my voice a guttural rasp. "You're so damn wet."
"Yes," she gasps, her eyes squeezed shut as she bites down on her bottom lip. "For you."
A growl rumbles in my chest at her confession, spurring me on. With practiced ease, I find her clit, circling the sensitive nub with just the right amount of pressure. She leans her forehead against mine, and her lips part as she gasps lightly, my tongue grazing hers.
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them in the way I already know she likes.
"Dante..." she moans my name again, her hips rising from the desk. "Oh, God, Dante, yes."
Her words, those sweet, broken cries, fuel the fire burning in my veins, white-hot and all-consuming. I pick up the pace, my thrusts mirroring the rhythm of my hips as I grind against her. I'm on the precipice myself, my cock throbbing in my pants, desperate for her touch.
"That's right," I rasp, my voice a low growl as I feast on the column of her neck. "Come for me, tesoro ."
With a keening cry, Evelyn's body tenses as she shatters around my fingers, her juices flooding onto my hand, hot and slick.
"Dante!" she cries out, head thrown back as she rides the waves of her climax.
I hold her close until her tremors subside, and then I pull away, my gaze ravenous as it sweeps her flushed features, her swollen lips, and I can't take it anymore. I yank my belt open, jeans falling to the floor, my hard cock straining against my boxer briefs, aching to feel her heat. I step between her thighs, pushing her back so that her bare pussy meets the head of my throbbing length.
"I need you," I growl, my voice a low rumble. "I need to feel every inch of you."
She arches her hips, her thighs parting willingly for me, inviting me in. "Take me," she whispers.
With one swift, searing thrust, I claim her, her slick, tight heat enveloping me in a vice-grip of bliss. Evelyn arches her back, her nails scraping against the polished wood of her desk as she moans my name, her head flinging back in ecstasy.
"Christ..." I grunt, my hands on her hips as I begin to move, my hips slapping against hers. Her walls clench around me, and I lose my tenuous grip on control. "Fuck, Evelyn..." I growl, leaning over her and burying my face in her neck as I pound into her, our bodies slapping together in a primal, ancient rhythm.
Her legs wrap around my hips, ankles locking behind my back as she urges me on. "Harder," she pants.
As our frantic rhythm escalates, I can't help but marvel at the sheer perfection of this moment: Evelyn beneath me, her cries of pleasure, her nails digging into the desk as she clings on for dear life.
Her pussy grips me like a velvet fist, each clench sending white-hot pleasure streaking through my core, urging me on. Drops of perspiration slide down my temples as I piston in and out of her, her wetness coating my length. The scent of arousal fills the air, musky and intoxicating.
"Dante, oh God, Dante," she moans my name like a prayer on her lips, her head thrown back as she arches into my every thrust.
"You feel so good," I grunt, my breathing ragged as I pump into her, harder and faster, my balls aching with the need to release.
"Yes, Dante, yes!" she cries out, her eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm builds. "Don't stop."
At last, with a broken cry of release, Evelyn shatters in my embrace. I follow her over that dizzying precipice only heartbeats later in a cataclysmic wave of pure sensation. For a blissful eternity, we cling to one another, our ragged breaths slowly evening out in tandem as the haze of passion begins to dissipate.
I gaze down at Evelyn, utterly transfixed by the sight of her lying amidst the scattered documents on her desk. Her chestnut tresses are an artful tangle, fanning across the aged wood like silk. A rosy flush stains her cheeks, lending vivid color to the soft contours of her face.
"Well," she murmurs, her lips curving into that sweet, secret smile. "I'd say that was one for the record books."
An undignified snort escapes me at her playful quip. Reaching out, I tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear, letting my knuckles linger in a tender caress along her jaw. "Only you could find a way to turn debauchery into scholarly pursuit, tesoro ."
Evelyn's eyes sparkle as she props herself up on one elbow, utterly unabashed in her glorious disarray. "What can I say? We curator types are an insatiably curious breed. Constantly seeking new... experiences to catalog and analyze."
"Is that so?" I arch one brow, fighting back a grin. "And tell me, Ms. Hughes, what findings did your latest research uncover?"
She regards me through her lashes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in a gesture that sends a fresh flare of hunger blazing through me. "That you, Mr. Romano, are a singular case study in contradictions—ruthlessly alpha in your dominion, yet surprisingly skilled in the finer arts of seduction."
A rumble of laughter escapes me at her candid assessment. Wrapping one arm around her waist, I pull her flush against me, relishing the way her soft curves mold so perfectly against the hard lines of my body.
"And you, il mio cuore ," I murmur against the fragrant warmth of her neck, "are the most deliciously maddening paradox of them all." I nip lightly at the sensitive skin just below her ear, smirking as she shivers in response. "All poise and polish one moment, and in the next, an utterly wanton temptress."
She lets out a breathless laugh, her fingers trailing patterns along the ridges of my spine. "Well then, I'd say we make quite the perfectly contradictory pair—the capo and the curator, bound by history, secrets, and an insatiable thirst for discovery."
The words resonate deep within me, igniting embers of a profound truth that steals my very breath. Whatever lies ahead, wherever this tumultuous journey may yet lead, we'll face it together. Two halves of the same determined whole, undaunted by the challenges that await.
With a low growl, I capture her mouth in a searing kiss, losing myself in the velvet glide of her lips, the exquisite heat of her body molded so perfectly against mine. When we finally part, I rest my forehead against hers.
"Bound together," I echo in a rough murmur. A vow, a promise, and so much more.
Evelyn's fingers trace the contours of my face with infinite tenderness. "Always," she whispers against my lips.