Chapter 22
DANTE
The way she tastes; it’s everything I spent the last year trying not to think about.
After that night, I told myself it was nothing and that I could forget the way she felt against my hand.. forget the sounds she made when she rode it.
I couldn’t.
I still can’t.
And now all I can think about is having more of her.
My tongue traces patterns against her, watching her body respond to every flick and stroke. Her fingers tighten in my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp as she gasps. The sound sends a jolt straight through me, and I increase the pressure, wanting to hear more.
“Fuck,” she breathes, her voice catching as her hips lift slightly off of the bed.
I slide one hand up her stomach, feeling the muscles tense beneath my palm. Her skin is warm, flushed with arousal, and I can feel her heart hammering against her ribs.
My hand moves higher and I press my thumb against her lower lip, watching as she parts them, her eyes flaring green and unfocused as she looks down at me.
“You have no idea,” I murmur against her, “how amazing you taste.”
Her breath hitches. “I wa- want more.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I slide my tongue deeper, finding what seems to be the right spot that makes her thighs tremble. She moans, the sound echoing off the bedroom walls, and I feel her clench around nothing.
“Dante,” she gasps, “I’m-“
I don’t let her finish. I keep my mouth on her, tongue working steadily as her breathing grows more erratic.
Her fingers tighten painfully in my hair, but I don’t care.
Her thighs begin to shake more, and I can feel her getting closer.
I slide one finger inside her, then another, curling them slightly as I continue to taste her.
“Don’t.. stop,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rain.
I have no intention of stopping.
Not now, not ever.
I work my fingers deeper, feeling her body respond to every movement.
She’s so wet, so ready for me, and the thought makes me harder than I’ve ever been.
Her back arches off of the bed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she falls apart beneath me.
I watch her face, memorizing every expression as pleasure washes over her features.
She’s beautiful like this.. vulnerable in a way she never allows herself to be.
When her breathing begins to slow, I linger, pressing a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, feeling the shiver that runs through her.
I straighten, taking my time with my shirt, button by button, enjoying the way her eyes track the movement.
I undo my pants, pushing them down along with my underwear, and my cock springs free.
Her eyes widen at the sight of it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She’s taking in the size of me and looks almost.. nervous.
Surely she’s..
I lean down, crawling between her legs, moving up her body. She watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, her lips parted and swollen from biting them, her breaths coming in short gasps.
I hover above her, held up on one arm.
The question sits in my throat for a second before I can figure out how to say it.
“Has anyone ever-“ I stop and then after a breath, I start again. “Is this your first time?”
A nervous expression flashes across her face. But then she gives a small nod. “Yes.”
Her hand reaches up to touch my cheek, fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
For a moment, we just look at each other, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words.
Then she pulls me down to her, her mouth finding mine in the darkness.
The kiss is different now; slower and much deeper than before.
When I open my eyes and glance down at her again, something in her expression has changed. There’s a vulnerability there that wasn’t before, a softness that reminds me of the girl she was before.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, my voice laced with desire.
She nods, her eyes never leaving mine. “Hurry, before I hate you again.”
I lower myself onto her, feeling her body heat against mine. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, and I can’t help the groan that escapes me at the contact.
“Fuck.. Leigh,” I whisper against her neck, pressing a kiss to her pulse point.
I’ve spent so long denying this, pushing her away, telling myself it was for her own good.
But now, with her beneath me, I can’t remember why I ever thought that was the right choice.
She reaches between us, her hand wrapping around my aching cock. The touch is tentative at first, then more confident as she strokes me slowly.
“I want you,” she says, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her fingers.
I capture her mouth with mine, pouring everything I’ve held back into the kiss.
When we break apart, I’m breathless, my heart pounding against my ribs.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I say, positioning myself at her entrance. “I’ll do anything you ask me to do.”
She looks at me for a moment, before saying: “Anything?”
I don’t say anything else and push inside her slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.
She gasps, her eyes widening slightly, but she doesn’t tell me to stop.
Instead, she pulls me closer, her nails digging into my shoulders as she adjusts to the feeling.
“You okay?” I ask, my voice strained with the effort of trying to hold back.
She nods, her breath coming in short pants. “I’m fine, keep going.”
I start to move, each thrust presses further and further in.
She tightens around me and I nearly lose myself entirely; so instead I grip her hip harder and drive deeper into her.
Her body responds immediately, meeting me with equal intensity. Her nails cut into the skin on my back as I thrust into her more.
The sensation is overwhelming; her warmth surrounding me, her breath against my neck, her heart beating in time with mine.
“Dante,” she moans, her head falling back against the pillows.
The sound of my name on her lips sends a surge of pleasure through me. I increase my pace, driving deeper, watching as pleasure builds in her expression. Her hands roam over my back, leaving trails of heat wherever she touches.
“You feel just like I imagined you would,” I murmur, my voice barely recognizable.
She pulls me down for another kiss, her tongue sliding against mine. The kiss is messy, desperate, full of all the things we haven’t said to each other.
When we break apart, her eyes are dark with desire.
“Harder,” she demands, her voice breathless.
I comply, gripping her hips as I thrust deeper. The bed creaks beneath us, the sound mixing with our ragged breathing and the steady rhythm of the rain outside.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she gets closer, her body tensing beneath mine. I can feel her getting tighter around me, and the sensation nearly pushes me over the edge.
I slide one hand between us, fingers finding her clit as I keep moving, my mouth brushing against her ear. “I need to feel you let go.”
She shudders, a soft cry escaping her lips as pleasure overtakes her.
I keep touching her, matching every movement to the way her body reacts beneath mine. Every breath she takes seems tied to me now. Every look. Every sound. It all feels dangerously close to belonging to me.
I watch her break apart piece by piece, memorizing every detail; the way her eyes flutter closed, her lips part, and the way her body arches against mine.
The sight is enough to push me over the edge.
I follow her into oblivion, my release washing over me in waves as I collapse against her.
For a moment, we just lie there, our breathing slowly returning to normal.
The rain continues to fall outside, a gentle soundtrack to the aftermath of what we’ve just done.
When I finally find the strength to move, I roll onto my side, pulling her with me so she’s tucked against my chest. She doesn’t resist, instead burrowing closer, her head resting on my shoulder.
“So,” she says after a moment, her voice quiet in the darkness. “What happens now?”
I press a kiss to her forehead, my arm tightening around her waist. “I don’t know,” I admit. “But whatever it is, will not be the shit that just happened over the last year.”
She looks up at me, her green eyes searching mine. “Don’t repeat what you said before and we won’t have to.”
I brush a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I promise.”
She settles against me again, her breathing gradually evening out as sleep begins to claim her. I watch her for a while, marveling at how peaceful she looks in this moment; how different from the cold, calculating woman I’ve seen over the past year.
Maybe Viktor was right.
Maybe I did turn her into something she was never meant to be.
But as I hold her close, feeling her heart beat against mine, I can’t help but hope that it’s not too late to bring her back.
The rain continues to fall outside, washing away the blood and pain of the past. And for the first time in a long time, I feel something like hope stirring in my chest.