Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Dylan
Iscramble to my feet. Because sitting on the sofa, next to Dante, after that kiss, is totally and utterly unbearable.
I turn around to face him. I need to say something, some excuse about needing to go to bed because I’m suddenly tired or I have a headache. Anything that allows me to run away.
But as I look down at him, I realize I have a far more pressing problem. Because my crotch is now level with his face.
This is terrible because that kiss was incredible, and I’m human. And these borrowed trousers are light gray sweatpants.
My hands fly forward in a move I haven’t needed since I was a teenager but apparently still retain the muscle memory for.
Dante’s dark eyes drop down to my cock. As if my hands aren’t there, or are entirely see-through.
Fuck my life. I just drew attention to my problem instead of hiding it.
I suck in a shaky breath. It’s fine. We are both adults. I’m not the only one who’s affected. I felt his reaction to our kiss. Felt it all hot and firm and pressing against my thigh.
“Good night!” I shriek suddenly and several octaves too high.
Dante drags his gaze up from my crotch area. His eyes are heated. The very corners of his lips are curling. Twitching. He is both aroused and trying not to laugh at me.
“Good night,” he says with great dignity.
I nod and turn on my heels. I hurry out of the living room with all the grace I can muster, which is not much.
Out in the hallway, my lungs ease a little. But it’s a bit dark out here. Slightly lonely without the heat of Dante’s attention.
I look over my shoulder, back towards the living room, as if I have regrets about leaving. I’m being stupid, as usual. I don’t have regrets. Why would I have regrets?
Angrily, I whip my head back around. Blinding, sharp pain explodes all over my face as I ricochet back from the bedroom doorframe.
“Feck!” I yell.
My hands cover my forehead, which seems to have taken the brunt of my collision.
Dante appears out of nowhere. Materializing next to me like some sort of avenging angel. His shoulders are tight, gaze sweeping up and down the hallway with all the intensity of full alert.
“Everything is grand!” I assure him. “We aren’t under attack. The wall… was just there. Being a wall. Jumping out at me.”
Dante relaxes. His entire body language shifts. Flowing effortlessly from guard dog to concerned puppy.
“That was quite a thud. Are you okay?”
Jesus and Mary, and all the saints. I’m so glad my hand is over my forehead because hopefully it is also hiding some of my blush.
“I’m…I’m fine! Never been better!”
“Let me see.”
“You don’t need to see a giant lump on my forehead.”
Gentle fingers wrap around my hand. My body betrays me and meekly allows Dante to pull my hand away from my head.
He peers intently at my forehead. My heart flutters and my stomach does gymnastics.
“You’re fine. It’s not even going to bruise.”
He leans forward and gently presses his soft lips against my sore spot. Kissing me better. With great care and attention. Making my skin tingle with the echo of his touch.
Something ignites deep within me. Something feral and hungry and demanding.
My hands grab Dante’s shirt, and I yank him down to me. I pull those soft lips next to mine and I kiss him.
He doesn’t hesitate this time. He doesn’t seem surprised at all. He kisses me back as if his need for me was a bomb and my kiss lit the fuse.
Everything is lips and tongues and teeth and fumbling hands.
Dimly I’m aware that we are staggering into the bedroom in a tangle of limbs, desperately ripping our clothes off each other as if they have suddenly burst into flames.
We crash naked onto the bed, our bodies entwined as if they were always meant to fit together.
Dante is hot, like he is lit from within by an intense fire.
The heat of him seeps into me, burning through my skin, heating my muscles and warming my bones.
I can feel him everywhere, down to my soul, and we are only kissing and touching. Hands exploring each other hungrily.
He’s gorgeous. I already knew this. But running my hands over his olive skin and defined muscles is bringing a whole new level of understanding. This man was front of the queue when God was handing out perfection.
I can barely believe he is allowing me to grope him. It feels like a desecration of something holy.
Dante leaves my lips. He kisses my neck.
Then down to my chest. Each soft caress of lips against my bare skin is a spark of fuel to my arousal.
The way he is touching me is making me feel things I’ve never felt before.
This isn’t a hookup. This isn’t something merely physical. This is something far more profound.
Dante’s kisses reach my stomach. I roll onto my back, he follows. It’s graceful, like ballet or something choreographed. Or something we have done a thousand times.
He reaches my cock and I make a noise that is deeply unholy. Dante is going to blow me, and it’s not something I expected. He is a big bad mafia man, I assumed he’d push me down and expect me to service him.
Instead, he has kissed his way down to my cock, eagerly, hungrily. Like he can’t wait to devour me. Like my pleasure is more important than his own and the only thing he wants is to hear me cry out.
It fits the quiet, sweet side of him. The side that buys me baking equipment and chooses runt scones. This is the true Dante, I realize. If this is who he is in intimate moments when all walls fall away, then this is who he truly is.
My heart thumps. Full and swollen with joy. I didn’t want Dante to be the cold, hard torturer. I wanted him to be this, and I was right.
I moan as his lips wrap around the very tip of my cock. My thoughts scatter. My soul catapults to the stars where I spin in slow, lazy circles.
His lips roll down my length. His tongue swirls over me. Everything is warm, wet, soft and Dante. I’m in his mouth and it feels like heaven.
He sucks and I scream. Oh fuck. He is good at this, very, very good at this. It’s not surprising. He’s the type of man who excels at everything he does. And the human body is his specific area of expertise.
Dark clouds form at the corners of my mind at that thought. A cold shiver pulses down my spine. Resolutely, I push the thought and feeling away. Nope, not going there. I’m going to enjoy this. I can pick it apart later.
Dante’s head bobs. I wail. Fireworks detonate in my soul.
This is the best blowjob of my life. Oh my god. I’ve been doing sex wrong my entire life.
His tongue does something. My hips levitate off the mattress and I thrust into Dante’s face and slide down into his tight throat.
My balls draw up. That tight, familiar feeling. I’m about to shoot my load. Spectacularly.
My hands tangle into Dante’s dark hair and frantically yank him off of me. He winces and licks his swollen lips.
“Sorry!” I blurt. “I was about to blow!”
A wicked gleam ignites in his dark eyes. My heart thumps. Heat races up my neck and all over my face.
Dante chuckles. He uses his shoulder to gently nudge my thighs even wider apart. He lowers his head. His nose nestles near my balls, and then his scorching tongue laps over my hole.
Holy Christ! My eyes roll back. My legs shamelessly spread even wider. My hips lift beseechingly.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Dante licks over my rim. Sensations explode. I feel the lick everywhere. My toes, my nipples, my soul. The spark it ignites dances everywhere.
He licks again and again. I writhe, I wail. My hands tangle in the sheets beneath me. Pleasure and euphoria flood my veins. I’m sobbing now, from the intensity.
Suddenly, his tongue stiffens and pushes into me. Penetrating and entering. A hint of a stretch, a tease of fullness. A gentle echo of what it is like to be fucked.
My hips buck, seeking more of him, more of everything.
His tongue flicks in and out of me, lightning fast. Wet friction over my sensitive rim.
A scream pours out of me, an overflow of ecstasy. There is too much euphoria within me to contain, so it escapes in a long, animalistic, primal cry.
His tongue moves and moves. My lungs and heart have lost all rhythm. They can only function sporadically, in between the waves and waves of rapture that Dante is licking into me.
But I want more, so much more. He has awoken my desire and it is a greedy thing.
“Give me your cock! Please!” I wail.
Dante stops. I heave in a much needed lungful of oxygen. His head lifts.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he rumbles.
I make some sort of huffing, exasperated sound. He chuckles and rises to his knees.
I watch with half-lidded eyes as he leans over and rummages through the drawer in the bedside cabinet.
He finds condoms and lube and dumps them on the bed by our legs. My heart races as he rips open a condom packet with his teeth while smirking down at me.
Fucking hell. Why is that so sexy?
He grins as he wraps fingers around the base of his hard cock. It’s a very nice cock, of course it is. It has an impressive girth and a satisfactory length. Heavy and veiny and leaking at the tip.
I lick my lips. I swallow.
Dante stares into my eyes as he slowly, provocatively, rolls the condom down his length. I cannot look away. I’m transfixed. Hypnotized.
He finishes and I stare and his condom covered cock. I have never wanted anything more. If he doesn’t give it to me, I might die. Lack-of-cock-itis. It’s totally a thing, I didn’t just invent it.
I blink as he squirts lube onto the palm of his hand. He teasingly moves his lube covered hand to his cock. He slowly, erotically, smears the lube all over his thick cock. Languid movement up and down until the latex of the condom is shimmering.
Sweet Jesus.
Dante moves. A graceful shift of position. One minute he is kneeling between my spread legs, taunting me with his marvelous cock, the next, he is lying on his back next to me.
I stare at him in outrage.
He grins and gestures at his slicked-up cock with an ‘All yours,’ kind of gesture. Or like a sommelier showing off his finest bottle of wine.
Then he puts his arms behind his head and gets comfortable.
My eyes narrow.
Fine.
I surge up and straddle him. His eyes widen in surprise, and it’s my turn to gloat. I may be a bumbling idiot, but I enjoy sex and I’m not shy in the bedroom.
I reach behind me and hold his cock steady. I stare into his dark eyes, and slowly, carefully, lower myself onto him.
I hiss in pleasure. The stretch and burn is exquisite. The feeling of fullness as Dante’s cock breaches my body. I want to savor it. Cherish it, but my body has other ideas.
My hips move and I ride.
I ride Dante and yell my joy. I throw my head back and I exult in the ecstasy.
It doesn’t last long. I’ve been on the brink of orgasm for far too long. I bounce a few more times on Dante’s cock and I’m done. My orgasm shoots through me. My muscles spasm. My hole clenches around Dante and my cock spurts hands-free.
Beneath me, Dante lets out a deep, manly groan, and shudders. Warmth splashes inside me as the condom fills.
All my muscles suddenly go weak and shaky. I collapse onto the bed beside Dante, trying to remember how to breathe.
He rolls over and pulls me into a tight spoon and nuzzles my neck. “Dylan,” he whispers softly, reverently, as if my name is a prayer.
Holy Mary. I can’t do this. What was I thinking? I can’t coldly seduce someone. I’m not built that way. I can’t keep my heart out of it.
I suck in a shuddering breath.
I’m not going to do this. This is the first and only time I’m going to have sex with Dante. Because that’s what it was, sex. Definitely not making love. Sex, just sex.
Now, I’m warm and sated and sleepy, and his arms are around me. His chest is pressed against my back, and I feel safe and cherished.
I sigh, and let sleep claim me. I’ll deal with the morning when it comes.