13. Margot
thirteen
Margot
With a whirlwind of emotions keeping the ball rolling, all I can do is cling to Dante as he carries me. Every step he takes, I can feel his body's response rubbing against me.
He's as turned on as I am.
With this unit all to ourselves, without worrying about anyone seeing, I kiss him back with the same fervor he's hit me with. I may not be a master at figuring out how to keep up with his tongue, but I'm a quick learner.
When I drag my teeth against his bottom lip, I take the growl that leaves him as a compliment. His entire body vibrates with approval, and his grip tightens to the point that I wonder if I'm going to have to worry about little red marks left around my hips.
"So fucking sweet," he groans against my tongue when I try to lap at where I bit. "It's a miracle I held on as long as I have. I knew I wanted to taste you the moment I laid my eyes on you."
His confession makes me blush, and if his words didn't sound so genuine, I wouldn't believe him.
"Is that why you took me?" Curious about the matter, I pull back to look at him to see his eyes already searching mine. "Was the witness thing an excuse?"
"Yes." He doesn't even hesitate with his answer. "I wanted to leave Madalyn behind the moment I saw you."
That little tidbit of information shouldn't make me smile as much as it does. To be the one picked first...
I curl my fingers into his mess of dark hair before my mouth finds his bearded cheek.
I like the beard. Truthfully, I like his entire face.
The mark across his face had startled me at first, but now, I think it adds to his rugged charm.
Trailing my kisses, I ever so softly graze my lips against his scar.
The sound Dante makes is a torn moan, like that of a wounded animal.
I pull back, startled. "Did I hurt you?"
He grunts, frowning. "God, no. Do it again."
Cracking a smile at that, I lean forward and kiss him again. Coasting my mouth against his scar, I make my way over his crooked nose, probably broken in who knows how many fights, before I make my way back to his mouth.
For such a hardened man, even he has some soft spots. While I'm discovering just how soft he is, he carries me over to the couch.
A laugh leaves me as he falls back, and we crash together onto it. Despite the grunt leaving him as we fall, the groan that leaves him next is anything but painful.
"Keep doing that," he murmurs as he pulls from my mouth to return the same affection.
He doesn't kiss all over my face, instead lingering on my jaw and my throat.
While his mouth explores, his hands slip beneath my shirt.
"Keep laughing. I like the way it sounds.
Makes me want to record it so I can listen whenever I want. "
Normally a ticklish person, I can't find it in me to even chuckle as his fingers glide up my sides. I'm too busy arching against him, panting as his tongue swipes against my racing pulse.
"I want to lick you everywhere," he grumbles, sighing against my collarbones. "Will you let me?"
Unable to see what his fascination with tasting me is, I can't tell him no. Not when every spot he touches feels like an erogenous zone.
Helping him pull off my shirt, I'm in a daze as he drinks in my top half with a heated gaze. I've still got my bra on, the very same one I came here in. It's nothing exciting, and it's not trying at all to hide the way my nipples are pressing against the fabric into two fine points.
There's no hiding my arousal away from this man.
His eyes drag down to my stomach, and to no surprise, my nerves pick back up.
He's seen me like this once before, but I wasn't sitting in his lap before. I didn't feel what my body does to him.
Beneath me, I can feel every hard inch pressing against me. Shifting my hips only makes him groan, but he doesn't tell me to stop. Rather, his hands find my hips, and he helps guide my movement.
"You seem to know what you're doing," he grunts, his brows pushing together.
"I've done research," I murmur as I reach behind me. Fumbling with the clasps, I unhook my bra. "Plenty of time spent reading romance novels, if that counts."
Those scenes always came off as too good to be true, but now I'm questioning it with the way my body is reacting to his touch.
Is it really supposed to feel this good, or does Dante have the magic touch?
He curses under his breath as I strip myself of my bra and drop it. Now I really feel exposed.
"Jesus..." He looks at my breasts with an unblinking stare. I can practically feel his gaze tracing my nipples as he wets his lips. "You're too perfect for a man like me."
As if to prove his point, he lifts one of his hands to cup my breast. While my skin is pale and flawless despite the stretch marks hidden by his fingers, his hand is covered in calluses and scars. Tanned from too much time spent on his bike, we're polar opposites.
It's not enough to stop me from wanting him.
I suck in a breath as his thumb circles the bud, making it harden completely before he's pinching it hard enough to make my hips roll harder. His eyes flick back up before his other hand joins his first. He keeps our eyes locked as he swoops in and draws my breast into his mouth.
It's not like anything I've ever felt, let alone seen. Almost like those heated moments in movies, but I'm seeing the parts that don't make it past the editing phase. Seeing the pink of his tongue swirling and flicking has me whimpering and unable to look away. Call me transfixed.
"Do you like watching me, Margot?" His question cools against the wet patch of skin where his mouth was just now.
Wanting to hide my face because there's no way I can lie at a moment like this, I squirm against him. "You look like you're enjoying yourself more than I am, and that says something."
The corners of his eyes wrinkle with amusement, and when his mouth curves, I feel the shock of this man smiling shoot all the way down between my legs.
No wonder he doesn't smile often. It's lethal.
"I bet I am. But does it feel good?" He kisses between my breasts, licking the patch there next. "I don't want to do anything you don't like."
Is there anything this man can do at this moment that would turn me off? He could sit there and look handsome, and I could get myself off.
"You're knocking it out of the park," I mumble, too bashful to say it with confidence.
That's all he needs to hear before he continues his onslaught to my chest. The more he nibbles and sucks, the more visible the marks become. He's leaving them everywhere, and I'm willing to bet that they're going to linger for much longer than today.
Long enough for me to relive this moment over and over in my head, until he's ready to make new ones.
"I want to taste you down here," he mumbles as his hands slide back down the length of my body. "I've been dying to get my tongue on your pussy since you let me touch you."
Nodding automatically, it's all he needs before we're shifting. One moment, I'm on his lap, and the next, he has me flattened against the cushions of the couch.
This man is strong enough to throw me around however he pleases.
Staring down at me like I'm his next meal, Dante shrugs his jacket off and tosses it onto the other end of the couch.
"Shirt too," I mumble, not wanting to be the only one who's topless.
His brows lift before his fingers pinch at the fabric. "Just a warning, I'm not as pretty as you are."
Biting my lip, I squirm. "I like how you look. You don't need to be pretty."
Another groan leaves him as he pulls off his shirt. "Keep talking like that, and I don't know if we're going to ever be able to leave this couch."
As his warning goes in one ear and out the other, I'm too busy staring at his chest. The ink on his arms goes all the way up to his chest, spreading up his throat and dragging all the way down toward his navel.
Despite all the ink, I can see this man is covered in scars. But it's not the faded lines that snag my attention, but the veins that run down toward his jeans. They're leading straight toward the very apparent bulge digging into his zipper.
"Can I see...?"
The laugh that leaves him is hoarse. "Not until I get what I want. If I let you go near my cock, I don't think I'll last long." He scoffs and shakes his head. "No, I know I won't. God, if only you had the slightest clue what you do to me."
He then reaches toward me, his hands dragging up my thighs. He’s trying to be careful, but I can feel the twitch in his fingers, the way he clamps down just a fraction too hard before catching himself.
Squeezing my limbs along the way, he eventually makes it to unbuttoning my jeans.
His breathing is harsh, a jagged drag through his teeth as he wrestles with the denim. He strips them away alongside my shoes and socks in a single, impatient rush, leaving me completely naked, displayed for his eyes to feast upon.
He recoils slightly, running a hand down his face, but his gaze remains locked on the lace of my underwear before a curse leaves his lips. The coiled tension in his shoulders is tight enough to snap.
"I'm going to kill her," he rumbles, the words scraping out of his throat.
I squirm under the sheer weight of his gaze, suddenly entirely unsure of myself.
If he's upset about the underwear, I'm not the one who bought them.
They're not like the usual cotton pairs I'd wear, but made of lace instead.
I thought they were cute, and even better, they're comfortable, even if they kind of ride up my butt.
"You don't like them?" My voice wavers as my legs part on their own.
His throat bobs before he shakes his head. "I do, but they're not practical. See-through and thin. I could tear them easily with one little tug."
My sex clenches at the confidence of his voice.
Toes curling, I don't want to rely on my imagination this time.
In a whisper, my hands slide against my chest to feel the same pleasure he'd made me feel as my fingers find my nipples.
They're already sensitive from his touch, but I can't help but tease them. "Show me."
Just when I think this man can't possibly look more like he's ready to eat me up in one bite, he proves me wrong as his fingers curl around the damp patch covering my slit. His fingers linger for a moment, feeling my slickness against his knuckles.
The lace easily tears as he pulls on it, proving his point. I don't know where it splits, but all I can feel is cool air against my pussy now that he's exposed the patch of skin.
"Wow." The sigh slips out before I can stop it. "Your strength continues to impress me."
My compliment makes him rumble—a sound that's half-amused and entirely unrestrained. He pulls back just far enough to kick off his boots, his hands already tearing at his jeans. Instead of freeing himself, he simply unbuttons the denim and yanks the zipper down for a pocket of relief.
"Keep those thighs open for me," he growls.
I think I like the way his voice drops when he gives an order. Being the bossy type, I'm sure he's used to everyone following along with every demand he barks out.
If I weren't so turned on, I'd test out what would happen if I didn't follow along. I'll save something like that for another time. Whenever I'm feeling like I'm not on the edge of asking him to put me out of my misery. To take the one part of me I've been saving.
I do as I'm told while he positions himself over me. Putting his weight against the couch, he hovers over my stomach as if he'd never stopped his path. Now that I'm basically naked beneath him, there's nothing stopping him as his mouth presses against the patch of skin right below my belly button.
"So gorgeous," he murmurs to himself as he kisses his way down. Hearing him mumble other compliments—from calling me sweet and tasting delicious—by the time he reaches my pussy, I feel like I'm on the verge of melting into the cracks of the furniture.
I brace myself, hips instinctively lifting from the cushions in anticipation of his tongue. But the contact never comes.
Instead, Dante glides right past the center of my heat, his bearded cheek brushing against my sensitive skin as he drops lower.
His mouth targets the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs instead.
He presses a heavy, open-mouthed kiss just an inch away from where I need him most, his tongue tracing a slow, agonizing line upward toward my hip.
When his teeth get involved, I know he’s marking me down there, too.
It’s like he’s making it clear that I am his. Who else would I let see such marks?
A frustrated whine catches in my throat. "Dante..."
"Not yet," he rumbles against my skin, his hot breath sending a shiver straight down my spine. “Still so much to taste. Saving the best part for last.”
He shifts to the other side, purposely ignoring my slick center as his hands grip my knees, holding my thighs spread wide.
His tongue swipes over the soft skin of my opposite thigh, sucking gently until I'm arching completely off the couch, blindly reaching for his shoulders.
The contrast of his rough beard and the wet heat of his mouth against my skin is driving me to lose my mind.
"Please," I pant, the word slipping out before I can stop it. I instinctively run my hands up my body, seeking something to soothe this ache. When I squeeze my breasts, he rumbles in return at my obvious desperation. "Dante, please. Don't make me wait."
He pauses, his eyes flicking up to meet mine, entirely filled to the brim with a lethal mix of dominance and desire. "Please what, Margot? Tell me exactly what you want."
"Your mouth…" My sex clenches longingly as the next words weigh heavily on my tongue, hardly forming into a proper sentence. “Taste me there. My pussy.”
At the cost of my embarrassment, he finally gives in. "Good girl."
He doesn't make me wait a second longer. Dante swoops back up, his mouth finally flattening completely against my glossy lips. The first press of his tongue is wide and wet, a slick glide that parts my folds as he licks me from my entrance all the way to my clit.
If it weren’t for his hands moving to my hips to hold me in place, I would’ve bucked against his face.
Have I always been this reactive? No, no way.
Shoving the heels of my feet deeper into the cushions down below, my fingernails dig into my breasts as a broken gasp tears from my lips.
He drinks in the sound, his eyes watching as the tip of his tongue does ruthless strokes against my clit.
At this rate, I don’t know how long I’ll last.
One thing I know for certain? I never want it to end.