Chapter 10
10
CELIA
“ Y ou’ll be out there with him before the lights go on, so people won’t see much, just his back,” Sofia told me. She was rushing now, trying to tell me everything before I had to go out into that arena, but she smiled at me as if it was all nothing. “As lurid as it all is…there is an attempt to maintain some privacy.”
I nodded, but my mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Sofia’s assurances seemed to come from miles away.
The noise of the crowd was a muted roar, like a coming storm. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath. Sofia’s hand smoothed my robe over my shoulders, then stayed, gripping me as if she would give me some of her strength.
“Remember,” Sofia whispered, her voice firm yet gentle, “you are stronger than you know. You’re going to be the with the man you love. Trust your instincts.”
Trust my instincts . The man I love . The words echoed in my mind like singsong nonsense as she led me down the hall and to a door. When she opened it, I could see the bed in the distance, the impression of a dark crowd beyond.
She gave me a gentle push out into the arena.
The lights were down, so if it hadn’t been for the low murmur of the voices, I could have believed I was alone. When I sat on the bed at the center of the arena, I’d never felt more alone before. There were so many people here, but none were my friends.
Not even my husband.
The other door into the arena opened.
I expected to see Gabriel coming toward me.
Instead, Dante was silhouetted against the light, and the crowd behind him disappeared for me. He wore a robe like I did. His dark eyes met mine, filled with warmth.
My breath hitched as he came into focus, his dark eyes locked onto mine. How did this happen? How did he take Gabriel’s place?
A sudden surge of relief and joy buoyed me up. I didn’t know how it happened, and maybe it was a trap, but for now…I didn’t have to face this terrible moment alone.
As he approached, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of us.
He knelt at the end of the bed. His palm found my cheek, and his thumb stroked over my cheekbone.
His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the hard lines of his tattooed arms or the brutal setting that surrounded us.
I put my hand on his wrist and traced a word with my thumb. S - A - F - E ?
Or was there the possibility Gabriel would escape from being locked in a closet or unconscious somewhere and come after us?
His thumb dipped lower, his fingers resting on the nape of my neck as he traced letters back to me on my cheek. S - A - F - E .
I might not know the details, but I trusted him.
His lips met mine, and it was like coming home. Dante’s first kiss was tentative, his lips barely grazing mine.
I threaded my hand through his dark hair and drew his lips to mine. Harder. More. I wanted more.
He responded with a groan against my lips. His body came alive against mine, kissing me as if he would consume me. My hands slid up the hard planes of his chest, craving the feeling of his skin against mine. The heat of his body. I slid under the robe, and his face fell to the curve of my shoulder. He inhaled as if he were breathing me in.
Dante might not speak, but the way he moved, the way he looked at me, told me everything he couldn’t say.
His hands roamed my body, igniting a fire within me. When he touched my face, his hands were tender and affectionate. But they grew rougher when he followed the curves of my body. Needy. Wild. Desperate.
I reached for the belt that tied my robe together. I yanked it apart, eager to get his hands on more of my body.
The spotlight was bright, searing, when it came up. But it didn’t matter.
I didn’t look past his face to the bright light.
He palmed my breasts, lowering his face to kiss my shoulder. I ran my hand through his hair, wanting his mouth on my breasts, before I realized he was carefully blocking my body from the crowd. But I didn’t even care about them now.
All I wanted was Dante.
The robe slipped from his shoulders. I stared up at him, drinking in the sight of his powerful body and the tattoos that covered his spreading shoulders and his chest.
He caught my hand in his and pulled it from his chest up to his lips. He kissed my palm instead of tracing words there this time. My hand folded around his, and he kissed each knuckle with reverence, his dark gaze locked on mine. The feel of his mouth on my skin pulsed through my body. His slow restraint was driving me mad.
With a growl that resonated deep within me, Dante lowered my hand to graze the hard planes of his abdomen, the muscles contracting under my touch. His skin was hot to the touch, a furnace of desire that I desperately wanted to stoke higher.
He released my hand to grip the edges of my robe, his fingers brushing against my skin. With a deliberate slowness that was both agonizing and exhilarating, he peeled the fabric away from my body, exposing me to the cool air and his heated gaze.
“I don’t care about the crowd,” I whispered to him. “I want you, David. I want you.”
The name spilled from my lips. He froze, his dark eyes turning to mine.
I stumbled. “I don’t…I’m sorry…”
His lips pressed mine, sealing the name into my mouth. He kissed me hard, wildly. If anything, he kissed me like he needed me more, like I was his breath, his life.
He worshipped me with his touch, his fingers brushing over my skin. I arched into his touch, needing more, needing everything he had to give.
Dante’s mouth followed the path his hands had blazed, his lips and tongue exploring my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts. When he finally took my nipple into his mouth, I cried out, the sound swallowed by the crowd that seemed to fade into insignificance. All that mattered was the man before me, the feel of his mouth on my skin, the way he made me feel alive.
I fisted my hands in his hair, holding him to me as he lavished attention on first one breast and then the other. When he moved back up to kiss my shoulder, my fingers were tangled in his hair, full of need. He was hard against my thigh. I ground against him, seeking friction, seeking release.
His fingers found the slick heat between my legs, and he groaned into my mouth as he discovered how ready I was for him. I whimpered as he teased my entrance, circling but not entering.
“Please…” I whispered.
Dante’s hands slid down my sides, gripping my hips with an urgency that left me in no doubt of his desire. My legs wrapped around his hard, narrow waist. He looked down at me with so much warmth and so much heat intermingled as he pressed the head of his cock against my opening.
With a swift motion, he aligned himself with my entrance and thrust into me, filling me completely. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him was overwhelming, and I let out a gasp.
He paused, studying my face as if he wanted to make sure I was all right.
So, I was the one who moved, rolling my hips up against his. I felt his heated body pressing against my clit, and then his thumb followed, pressing into me hard, teasing me mercilessly. It was what I wanted now. I wanted him, and I wanted it to feel hard and wild and desperate, the same way I felt.
The world around us fell away, and there was nothing but Dante and the way he made my body sing. The sounds of the crowd dimmed to a distant hum, and all I could hear was the pounding of my heart and the ragged cadence of our breaths.
His pace quickened, each thrust driving me higher, the tension coiling within me reaching a crescendo. I clung to him, my nails digging into the muscular flesh of his back. I wanted to call out his name, but I swallowed it and made a wordless cry instead. His lips found mine again, devouring my cries as he pounded into me with an intensity that bordered on savagery.
Tremors began to ripple through my body, signaling the approach of an earth-shattering release. Dante sensed it too; his movements became more focused, more deliberate. He rolled his hips as he drove into me, adding something to his thrust that seemed to turn into liquid heat across my g-spot. I let out a cry, my nails digging into his shoulders, and he smiled as if he loved every moment.
With a final, powerful thrust, he sent me spiraling over the edge. My orgasm crashed over me, my muscles clenching around him. The pleasure was blinding, a white-hot flash that consumed every inch of my being.
Dante followed me over the edge, his body tensing as he found his own release. I felt the warmth of him filling me.
He collapsed on top of me, our bodies slick with sweat and fused together.
The spotlight went out.
Dante’s lips met mine, and this kiss—in the darkness—was all ours. His lips pressed mine open, needy, desperate. I kissed him back, sliding my hands up over his hard shoulders. It felt as if we were slipping back and forth between past and present.
Lying back in the sand , feeling the sun on my face , his attention brighter and hotter than the sun itself .
His lips on me now, the way he groaned against my mouth as if he needed more. His cock, already hard again, pressed my thigh before he pulled back.
He helped me off the bed, before draping the robe around my shoulders.
I reached for him, but he slipped through my fingers as if he really were a ghost. He backed away toward the door, and I understood. No one could see his face.
But still, I felt lost as he left me behind.