Chapter Twenty
Hazel
My heart stammered.
My body froze.
My belly melted.
“Sorry. I think I, uh, was drawn to your warmth,” I said, forcing myself to lift up some more, only to have Dante’s arm tighten, pulling me back down.
“My warmth, huh?”
His voice was a rough, sleep-sexy sound that sent a shiver sliding down my spine.
“It’s cool in here,” I insisted, even as my body started to burn. “And you’re a furnace.”
Dante’s fingers drifted down over my ribs, my waist, and hip. My damn body stretched like a cat at the sensation, desperate for more of it.
His hand slid down over my thigh before tracking back up, this time moving higher, his fingertips brushing the side of my breast, then moving up toward my neck.
Then, in one smooth motion, he rolled me onto my back, his body half coming over mine, and his lips sealed to mine, silencing my surprised gasp as the heat of his kiss seared into me.
My whole body went liquid as his lips slanted over mine again and again, slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world, like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing.
I sank into the sensation, into him, into the warmth flooding through me.
His hand went to my jaw, gently framing my face as the kiss turned deeper, more passionate, borderline needy.
Dante’s teeth grazed, then nipped, pulling until my lips fell open on a soft moan.
Then his tongue teased mine, lighting more fires, letting them catch and spread.
Reaching for him, I pulled him more fully on top of me, my legs spreading around his hips, my arms slipping around his back.
My hands were greedy then, sliding over his wide shoulders, moving over the corded muscles of his arms, and down the slope of his back.
Dante’s tongue retreated, my own chased, desperate for more, for everything he had to offer. His lips took my tongue, sucking in a strobe-like pattern that I swore I felt between my thighs.
He broke the kiss first, pressing up to look down at me as he shifted his hips, then ground his hard length against me.
My moan was long and ragged, my back arching, my head falling back.
Dante took it as an invitation, his face lowering, his lips meeting the skin of my neck.
It was lips and tongue and teeth and the occasional scrape of his stubble as I tried to hold myself back from begging for more, just soaking up the sensations flooding my system.
But there was no stopping the way my legs bracketed his, using his body to circle my hips against his hardness. Once. Twice.
A low groan escaped Dante, vibrating against my neck as his hips started to rock against me while I kept circling.
He moved with me for a moment or two before rolling off to the side of my body, smiling a bit at my grumble at the loss of him.
His fingers snaked up under my shirt, the tips grazing over my belly, my ribs, then closing over the swell of my breast.
Desire was white-hot as his hand squeezed, as his fingers circled, rolled, and pinched.
It wasn’t long before he was sliding the buttons of the shirt free, exposing a sliver of skin at a time until he reached the bottom.
Only then did he slide the material to the side, exposing one swell.
He let out another groan, this one a little rougher, almost a growl.
Then he was folding forward. I had just a second to feel the heat of his breath on my bare skin before he sucked my nipple into his mouth.
I arched as my hand slapped to the back of his neck, holding him against me while his tongue and teeth and lips teased and tempted.
He moved across my chest, continuing the sweet torment.
Then, making my breath catch, he kissed in toward the center of my chest, lingering there until my hands grabbed the back of his head, trying to guide him down.
I could feel his lips curve against my skin, enjoying my urgency.
When he started moving, though, his pace was unhurried, like he was trying to memorize every inch of me, afraid that he might never get a chance again.
He pressed a kiss into my hipbone, then paused until I was writhing and whimpering.
Only then did he slip downward, kissing across the triangle above my sex.
A shudder racked me as desire stretched taut enough to snap.
Dante’s arms slid under my legs, his hands curling around to dig into my thighs just as his tongue traced up my cleft.
My body jolted hard and if not for Dante’s arms holding me in place, I might have scooted up the bed and away from him.
As it was, he held me in place as his tongue glided upward to circle around my clit.
My hips writhed restlessly as my fingers dug into the back of his head.
It felt like forever, my pulse galloping, my breath catching. Until, finally, his tongue made direct contact.
My moans told him how I liked it and then he gave me exactly that, keeping the right pace and pressure until my body was strung tight, until the pressure became painful just before it released.
The orgasm ripped through me like a jolt, a full-body quake that stole my breath and made my muscles shake.
I was gasping and moaning as Dante worked me through it before turning to press kisses up my thigh, over my belly, then up between my breasts.
Then his arm hooked under me, rolling both of us until our positions were switched.
My legs slid to the sides of him as I planted my hands on the sides of his head before pressing my lips to his, soft and sweet for a moment, then deeper, harder, hungrier as the sated need grew once again.
Dante hooked his hand under my knees, yanking upward until I had no choice but to sit back.
He followed, sliding my shirt off of my arms before dropping it off the side of the bed.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as his fingers moved down the slope of my back to sink into my butt, dragging me up just a bit higher, making me slide against his hard-on, dragging a groan out of him and a gasp out of me.
My hips did an involuntary glide. Then another. And another. Until every muscle in Dante’s body was tense and his fingers were bruising into my butt.
I pressed my hands into his shoulders, pushing until he moved flat. With a disappointed whimper at the loss of his length against me, I leaned down.
It was my turn to tease his neck, loving the thrum of his pulse against my tongue, the way his breath caught and exhaled shakily.
My mind and body were disconnected, one wanting me to savor this, to have him trembling and aching with need, the other wanting to slip down his pants, then feel him slide fully inside me.
I chose the former, trailing my lips, tongue, and teeth up the shell of his ear, kissing down his jaw, then blazing a path downward.
My tongue traced between the indents of his muscles, loving the way they tensed under the soft exploration, how his breath rushed out of him, how his fingers clenched and dug into my arms, shoulders, neck, as I moved lower.
My lips kissed down the deep V that disappeared into his pants before I slid lower still, teasing my tongue up his hard length through his pants until the material was wet with his need, until his hips were bucking up toward me, silently begging for more.
Only then did I lower the waistband and continue the exploration.
A deep, low groan escaped him when my lips finally closed around the tip of him, sucking him into my mouth, and circling my tongue around him before taking him deeper.
I was done exploring then.
His hands grabbed the back of my neck, moving me into the slow, steady pace he was looking for, then just holding on as I gave him exactly what he liked.
Until he was taut as a bow.
Until his breathing was short and shallow.
Until he was letting out delicious little rumbling groans of need.
The taste of him was in my mouth, and my sex clenched hard at the intimacy.
Then, suddenly, his fingers wrenched in my hair, curling, pulling.
I worked against the quiet command until the pain in my scalp forced me to move upward, his cock slipping from between my lips as he kept pulling.
Dante’s eyes were molten when we were face to face again. His thumb traced my swollen lower lip before he gave my hair one more yank. Then our lips were pressed together again, hard, hungry, desperate.
I lowered my hips until his length was pressed against my cleft, rocking against him as the kiss became heat and teeth and aching need.
I lost his arm as he reached into the nightstand, then pressed my hips up so he could roll on the protection before pulling me against his cock again.
Dante threw his weight, rolling me under him.
The kiss broke, his head lifting to look down at me as his hips shifted.
I felt the press of him against me for a moment before his hips thrust forward.
I gasped at the deep stretch of him, and Dante groaned at the tightening of me.
Settled deep, there was a moment of nothing—just shock, pleasure, an intimacy there were no words for.
But it wasn’t long before the need clawed at both of us.
My legs lifted to bracket his lower back. My arms closed around him.
Then he was moving, slow and deep, the movements careful, measured, savoring the magic of something new.
It wasn’t long before the need for release was overwhelming us.
My hips rocked to meet his thrusts—harder, faster—and my heels dug into his ass, driving him in deeper each time.
My moans tangled with his groans and curses as we both surged forward toward that aching oblivion.
I tightened.
A rumble moved through his chest.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice deep and rough. “Let me feel you come.”
Then I did, body tensing, then releasing into a million shivers, my moans a strangled sound as the waves moved through me again and again.
But Dante wasn’t done with me yet.
As soon as my body went lax again, he was moving—slow and sweet, giving my body a chance to come down and start to build at the same time.
Once my hips were rocking to meet his thrust for thrust, he rolled himself under me once again.
I sat back, finding the exact right angle.
His hips bucked.
Mine circled.
And we were lost in the sensation once again, but this time Dante’s hands were all over me. They slid up my hips, my ribs, teased my breasts, then, finally, slid between my thighs, engaging my clit as I kept riding him.
My moans filled the quiet house.
My movements were wild, reckless, desperate.
“Dante,” I cried, my whole body stiffening as I stood at the precipice, suddenly a little afraid of the fall, the crash.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let go,” he added, voice rough. “I’ve got you.”
And despite it all, I somehow knew he did.
Have me.
So I did what he said.
I let go.
The orgasm ripped violently through me, stealing my breath, taking my voice, leaving me shuddering.
Dante pulled me down against him, thrusting up into me through it, dragging it out as I cried out against his neck.
Then, with one rough curse, he followed me, body tensing and releasing.
We were both boneless afterward, panting, hearts racing.
Dante’s arm went around me, a grounding presence I didn’t know I needed until it was there.
His other hand slipped upward to sift through my hair, patiently waiting for me to come back to myself.
Only then did he roll us onto our sides. He pressed a quick kiss to my lips before climbing out of the bed and heading into the bathroom.
Alone, I rolled onto my back, hand pressed to a heart that felt broken open, raw, vulnerable, at risk.
Of what?
Falling for him?
A mafia capo.
A dangerous man, by all accounts.
The concerns and fears swirled, kicking up more and more with each passing second until the cyclone they created threatened to lift me up, spin me around, and never let me go.
It was then that Dante’s arm slid under me, curling me until I was against him, my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
The sound of it shut up my thoughts. It silenced the whole world until all there was… was him.
And with that, I drifted off to sleep.