Chapter 39 #2
“Then that’s all that matters.” He pulls me into his arms, and I go, collapsing against his chest like my strings have been cut.
“The beginning doesn’t define us. What matters is what’s true now.
And what’s true now is that I love you, and you love me, and nothing you did while fighting to survive is going to change that. ”
I break down completely. Cling to him and cry until I have nothing left. All the guilt, all the shame, all the fear of being found out and rejected. It pours out of me, soaking into his shirt, and he just holds me through it. Steady and solid and there.
“I thought you’d hate me,” I manage eventually, my voice wrecked.
“I could never hate you.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “I hate myself for what I did to you. The torture. The captivity. Every moment of pain I caused. I should be begging for forgiveness, not you.”
“You already have my forgiveness. You’ve had it for a while now.”
“Then let me give you the same grace.” He pulls back to look at me, his hands still cradling my face. “We’re here now, together, choosing each other. That’s what matters. That’s the only thing that matters.”
Something breaks open in my chest. Not the painful kind of breaking. The kind that lets the light in.
“I love you,” I say, and my voice is steadier now. “I love you so much. And it’s real. It’s so real.”
“I know.” His almost-smile softens into something genuine. “I’ve always known.”
I kiss him. Desperate at first, then slower, deeper. Tasting salt and relief and something that feels like absolution.
“I love you,” I say again against his mouth, because I can, because he’s letting me, because against all odds he’s still here.
“I love you too.” He pulls me closer. “Now stop crying and let me show you.”
He pulls me all the way onto his lap, so I’m straddling him.
My arms wrap around his neck, and he kisses me thoroughly. Deeply. So deeply that I can taste his love for me.
My heart begins to beat with it. Taking up a new rhythm. I can’t be sure, but I like to think my heart has synced with Dante’s and now we are in tandem.
Dante truly has forgiven me. As if forgiving me and loving me is as easy as breathing. He didn’t even hesitate. This man always surprises me and never lets me down.
His strong hands settle on my ass cheeks. Heat burning through the thin material of my pajama trousers.
Suddenly, I’m yelping as the world moves.
Dante has stood up. While holding me. My legs have instinctively wrapped around his waist. He’s still kissing me. Kissing me so intensely that it’s hard to think.
We are moving now. Toward the bedroom. It’s a grand idea. One of the best ideas Dante has ever had. It’s also one of the most swoon-worthy things I have ever experienced.
I can’t wait to tell Teagan that Dante carried me to the bedroom. Easily. As if I weigh nothing.
Now he is laying me gently on the bed. Placing me down with so much tenderness that there is a very real chance I might combust from hotness. I’m not made for such levels of sexiness, I’m really not.
Dante’s demanding lips pull away from me. I blink in confusion. My thoughts are all muzzy. I think he has melted my brain.
I blink again. His nimble fingers are undoing the buttons of my pajama top. A patch of my too-pale skin is now bared. Dante lowers his head and brushes his lips over the newly freed spot.
I moan and my eyes roll back. Sweet baby Jesus, this man is going to be the death of me.
Slowly, carefully, methodically, Dante undresses me, kissing each part of me that the removed cloth reveals. As if he is trying to kiss every single one of my freckles.
Eventually I’m naked. And harder than I’ve ever been in my life. I feel worshipped and adored, and it’s the headiest of aphrodisiacs.
Dante’s dark head lowers. He presses a gentle kiss to the tip of my dick. A barely-there brush of lips.
An obscene noise escapes me. I’m pretty sure it can only be described as a mewl. I should be mortified. But I’m too busy panting because he is kissing my cock again. A feather-light kiss.
I writhe and gasp as he peppers my cock with kisses.
His hand slides up. He cups my balls. Fondles them with a gentle caress. I grunt. My hips buck. Stars explode. Fuck, I nearly shot my load.
Dante chuckles, low and deep, and his breath huffs over my throbbing cock, and forces another shameful noise from me.
His hand moves to my inner thigh. He nudges gently and my legs spread for him. Eagerly. Wantonly.
His head lowers. Warm wet heat laps at my hole. My fingers clutch at the sheets beneath me. A gurgling sound sticks in my throat.
Oh lord. I’m going to cum harder than anyone has ever cum in the history of humanity. It’s going to be in the Guinness Book of Records, if they have a sex section, which I feel they should definitely have.
His tongue laps over my hole again. I yell. I swear if I opened my eyes I would now have the power to see sound. Dante has sent me to an entirely new realm of existence. Just with the power of pleasure and the things his tongue can do.
He licks again, and I whine and buck.
“I want you!” I gasp. “I want all of you. Inside me.”
It’s true. I had no idea I was going to say that, but now I have heard myself speaking those words, I realize how very true they are. I want Dante’s cock deep inside me. Rearranging my guts and making me scream his name.
I’ve had more sex these last three weeks than the rest of my life combined. But it seems the more I have, the more I want. Dante’s cock is addictive, it’s turning me into a proper little sex fiend and I have zero regrets.
Dante sits up. For a moment I regret having the power of speech because causing him to stop what he was doing is a tragedy. But then he grabs the lube from the bedside table, and arousal spikes through me so intensely that I can’t breathe.
I watch as Dante coats two of his fingers. I blink and my eyes refocus on his naked chest. When did he undress? I have no recollection of that. But I’m very happy it has happened.
Dante moves, and his slick fingers brush over my hole. My eyes flutter closed. Then my mind floats. It soars as waves of pleasure wash over me.
Dante diligently stretches and opens me. Applying the same careful attention that he applies to everything. I don’t know why it is so hot, but it is.
His fingers leave me. I open my eyes. I watch, heavy-lidded, as Dante rolls a condom down his length. It really is a lovely cock. A good length, a satisfying length. But it’s the girth that’s impressive. Mightily impressive.
Our eyes meet. His eyes are dark. Gleaming with lust, desire, and love.
I gulp. My heart cartwheels and my stomach flutters.
He leans over me and I stare up at him, our gazes are locked together. Intense. Intimate. Wonderful.
Slowly, carefully, he pushes into me. Pleasure blooms. Sensations spark. My eyes never leave his.
I watch as his features are shaped by ecstasy. His pupils blow even wider. I can see all of him. The strong, quiet man who loves deeply and completely. The man who stoically did everything that was expected of him. I see his darkness. I see his light. I see Dante.
His hips rock. Slow, tender, deep thrusts.
He isn’t fucking me. He is making love to me. Treating me as something precious. Because I’m his. Because he cherishes me.
My muscles begin to quiver. My orgasm is so close.
I can tell Dante’s is too. But I’ve learned that he never lets himself cum first. He always ensures I find my peak before him.
He rocks into me. In and out. Slide and drag. I’m stretched and full, and he’s gazing down at me as if I’m a star he’s somehow caught from the night sky and he can’t believe miracles are real.
My head falls back, my muscles clench. My cock spurts. I scream “Dante!” as my orgasm explodes through me with the force of a supernova.
As soon as I say his name, he is right there with me. Shuddering and moaning through his own orgasm.
We collapse into a sweaty heap of tangled limbs.
How can life be this good?