Chapter Forty-Four #2
Before I can register what’s happening, he strips me of my chemise and underwear, and then he’s lifting me. As the fog of my release clears, I find myself on the bed.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands, removing his tunic, exposing his beautiful tattoo, and then pushing down his pants.
His cock springs free, and I wet my lips, doing as he says.
“Stay like that.” He strokes himself as his eyes roam over my naked flesh. “Gods, you’re perfect.”
He comes forward, his erection mere inches from my face. One hand smooths over my hair, and the other glides up and down his cock as he gets nearer.
“You want to taste this, Highness?”
I bite my lip. “Yes, please, Highness,” I say back to him.
I reach out and guide the head to my mouth, licking the tip, already slick with precum. He inhales sharply, his fingers tangling in my hair as I wrap my mouth around him and slide my tongue along his shaft.
“Fuck, Celeste.” He hisses through his teeth, guiding me as I begin to bob my head. I swirl my tongue around his swollen head, letting out a moan of my own as he rolls his hips forward.
I stroke him with my hand as my mouth releases him, and I stare up at him, the need growing low in my belly. “I want you to taste me, too,” I say, lapping at him once more.
He smirks, then shifts until he’s sitting on the bed. I’m still on my hands and knees when he crawls underneath me, his head under my pussy, my head hovering over his erection. He grabs my hips, lowering me until my core is met with his hot mouth.
I cry out as his tongue lashes out.
“That’s it, Celeste. I want you to fuck my face. I want my mouth dripping with your cum.”
I buck as he drags his flat tongue from my clit to my ass. Then he takes my clit between his lips and sucks, making my body shake.
But I open my eyes, taking in the sight of his twitching cock, and I can’t resist. I take it in one hand and massage his balls with the other, then I descend on his thick length, coating it with my saliva as I devour him in the same delicious rhythm he’s devouring me.
He comes up for air long enough to let out a long “Fuuuck!” His thumb comes up to rub over my bundle of nerves, and then he pulls my ass down so he can cover my pussy with his hot, wet mouth again. I’m falling apart from the blissful pleasure, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.
Like a man possessed, he fucks me with his tongue as he thrust his hips up to meet my strokes, and I relax my throat so I can take him deeper. Our moans and grunts fill the room, combining with the sound of our wet mouths devouring each other.
He continues to lap at me as he pushes his fingers into my pussy, making me whimper with pleasure.
Oh, gods, it’s almost too much. He pumps in and out, his tongue and lips still licking and sucking and dragging through my folds, and his face is so wet as I grind all over it, needing more, needing another release.
He grabs my hips and growls against my core, the vibrations on my soaked flesh sending waves of pleasure crashing over me.
“Yes, Celeste,” he says between licks. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.”
I suck his cock harder, my hands desperately stroking him at the same time.
I’m writhing, rolling my hips in a frenzied desire.
And my core pulses as I’m pushed over the edge.
He floods my mouth at the same time, his hot seed filling my throat.
I swallow, still whimpering from my release, and when every drop of his desire is lapped up, I drop my head to his side.
My heart is thundering, and I fight to catch my breath.
He rolls me so that I’m on my side and crawls around so that he’s face to face with me.
His hands travel over my sweaty body, his heavy breaths covering me.
I reach out and caress his skin, running my palms over his biceps, down his ribs, and over his hips.
He captures my lips with his, the taste of our arousals mixing on my tongue.
“You are incredible,” he whispers. “Fucking perfect.”
I reach for him on instinct and find he’s already hard again.
Heavy lidded, I gaze at him and stroke his cock.
He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, and I twist my body, gliding my leg over his torso until I’m straddling him.
He stares up at me, his hands on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin.
I slide along his length, slickening it with my wet pussy.
It stokes the fire of my desire, and my body is thrumming with heat.
I arch my back, looking down at him, claiming him as I slide back and forth, and his hands come up to squeeze my breasts. His thumbs graze my nipples, making me throw my head back.
“Gods, you’re beautiful. I need to be inside you, Celeste.”
He grabs his shaft and lines himself up with my soaked entrance.
When he finally pushes into me, my breath catches.
He sinks inside, inch by inch. My mouth falls open as I stretch around him, the burn of it so tantalizing, I have to let out a small sigh.
I lift my ass, my pussy squeezing around his length as I slide up and then down, the sensation of our slickness driving me into another frenzy.
He grunts as I ride him, my small gasps and whimpers mixing with the sound of our skin slapping against each other.
His fingers squeeze into the flesh at my hips as he drives himself into me, and my heart is once again thundering in my chest. A groan rips from his throat, and he flips me so that I’m under him, my legs wrapped around his waist. He thrusts into me, deep and hard, his entire length filling me.
His lips capture mine again—hot and demanding.
His teeth graze my bottom lip, sending a fresh wave of heat through me, and then his hand slips between us so he can reach my clit.
He rubs furious circles as he buries his thickness into me again and again, and I find myself unraveling with each push and pull, every rhapsodic stroke.
“Such a good girl,” Dante says between grunts. “You take my cock so well.”
I arch into him as his lips trail lower, down the column of my throat. My head tips back against the bed as his pace quickens.
“Look at me,” he says, his voice softer now, filled with something deeper than lust. “I want to see your eyes when I make you cum.”
I meet his gaze, and the intensity in his expression steals what little breath I have left. His control snaps, and his body moves with a desperate, aching need that mirrors my own. Every stroke sets my nerves on fire, driving me higher and higher until the world blurs around the edges.
Heat courses through my body, and I dig my fingers into the muscles of his back, rolling my hips in time with every pump of his cock until I’m forced to go hurtling over the edge.
His body spasms as he finds his release, spilling into me.
I cling to him, letting the sensation pull me under—deeper, sweeter—until nothing exists but the heat of his body, the roughness of his breath in my ear, the sound of my name on his lips.
His forehead rests against mine as he stills, his chest rising and falling against my body.
The air between us is warm and heavy, filled with the fading echoes of our pleasure.
He rolls until he’s lying next to me but turns my face by my chin so he can kiss me.
Dante’s body still molds to mine, his arm draped across my waist as if he can’t bear to let me go, and I press my cheek into his shoulder, where his tattoo is.
My heart thuds softly against his chest, and I feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm—strong, sure, and entirely him.
The night is deep and quiet, the echoes of the ball nothing more than a memory now.
Moonlight spills through the open window, painting silver streaks across the sheets, across him—the sharp angles of his face softened by the glow, the tan tones of his skin catching where the light brushes over muscle and scar.
We lie tangled in the quiet, his fingers moving idly along my bare arm, tracing slow, thoughtful patterns across my skin. I shiver, though not from the cold.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
Then, softly, Dante exhales. “I need to ask you something.”
“How can your brain possibly be working already?” I ask. “My head’s still spinning.”
He lets out a slow chuckle and presses a kiss into my temple. “It’s important.”
I let out a slow breath. “Okay.”
He strokes my hair gently, and I let my fingertips wander over his chest.
“I know neither of us truly had a choice in this,” he murmurs, his voice a low thread in the stillness.
I glance at him, at the way his brows draw together slightly, his gaze fixed somewhere distant, lost in thought.
His fingers don’t stop moving. Up and down, featherlight over my wrist, my forearm. Like he’s drawing a map, committing me to memory.
“I can’t control what my father does,” he continues. “But I can control myself. And if nothing else, I want to be fair to you.”
I shift slightly, turning toward him, my heart pressing tighter against my ribs. “Dante, what is it?”
“I belong by your side.” His voice is steadier now, more certain. He finally looks at me, really looks at me, his dark eyes burning with something I can’t name. “I know my place. As your betrothed. As your husband. Your partner in all things. That’s where I belong.”
My lips part, my breath thin, but I don’t interrupt.
He watches me for a moment longer, then drags a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “I love you, Celeste. And I want nothing more than to marry you.”
My breath hitches at his words.
His fingers trail back down my arm, pausing just below my wrist. “But I need you to be sure it’s what you want.
Not something arranged. Not something you have to do for anyone else.
Not for my father, not for Hedera, not even for Delasurvia.
” His thumb brushes over my knuckles, slow and deliberate. “For you.”
A lump rises in my throat.
I already know my answer.
I know it in my bones, in the way my soul steadies when I’m near him.
I open my mouth to say it. To tell him that I love him, too.
But before I can speak, Dante reaches up, pressing a single finger against my lips.
“Not yet,” he murmurs. “I want you to really think about it. Sleep on it.”
My heart stutters.
He holds my gaze, his expression unreadable, though there’s something tender beneath the quiet restraint.
“I don’t ever want you to feel like the queen does,” he says softly.
“Like you’re trapped. Like you have no escape.
” His jaw tightens slightly. “Even if I would never be like my father, I don’t want you to feel even a shadow of what she does.
No regrets. I want you to enter this marriage because you want it. ”
His hand slips from my lips, and for a moment, I think he might say more.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he leans in, his mouth brushing over mine—a languid kiss, lingering just long enough to leave warmth behind.
Then, before I can even think to pull him back, he shifts, slipping from the bed, the sheets rustling as he reaches for his clothes.
I watch him from where I lie, my body still tingling from his touch, my mind swirling with his words. I don’t want him to go, but he knows I won’t be able to think clearly with him in my bed.
He doesn’t wait for me to speak again.
Because he doesn’t want my answer yet.
For a single second, something flashes in his expression. Worry? Doubt? I remember that look, and it pains me. It’s the same way his face looked when Torbin forced me to lie to Dante, when he told me I had to send him away and tell him he meant nothing to me.
Dante has to know I never meant that. I want to reassure him, but he speaks first.
“Tomorrow,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “Tell me tomorrow.”
The door clicks softly behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I don’t need a night to think about it. There’s no need to wait until tomorrow. Because I already know.
Of course I love him.