Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
After lunch and a dirty martini, Honesty was starting to feel every minute of sleep she’d lost last night.
She’d stifled more than one yawn as Dante had driven her back to her car at the office. Now he was following her home. His chivalrous offer was unmistakably kind—unmistakably him.
She also wanted him in bed with her. He’d created a monster.
A light rain began as she pulled into her apartment’s parking area.
The clouds had swept in so quickly that the bold, blue-sky view from the restaurant seemed like a mirage.
They had taken their time eating, then sipping on their cocktails, and finally, finishing with dessert: a chocolate tart she wouldn’t soon forget.
Sort of like the man following her home.
She’d decided, in between the dirty martini and the chocolate tart, to invite him into her bed. Talking casually while sharing a dessert had been comfortable, easy. Despite the ripple of discomfort she sensed in him. Maybe she’d imagined it.
Anyway, he hadn’t argued when she’d offered.
Navigating emotional quicksand was to be expected in a situation like this one, but for her it’d been more of a sandbox than quicksand. A simple dusting of her hands had set her right each and every time she saw him.
She chalked that up to maturity. She respected him and his career, and how much he cared about his family. She had been careful to maintain distance between him and her heart, though. That was what mattered most.
He met her in the lobby after he’d parked his car. They took the elevator up to her apartment. Inside, she dropped her keys and purse on a chair and went to the kitchen.
“Water? Tea? I have wine, but that doesn’t sound good.”
“I had plenty to drink at the restaurant, including the coffee and the water and the martinis. Speaking of, I’m going to use your restroom.” He stepped into the hallway bathroom.
She busied herself tidying the kitchen. Not that there was a huge mess, but she had opted to sleep in rather than clean up.
She loaded plates and glasses into the dishwasher and turned it on.
By the time she looked up, Dante was standing in the living room, his back to her. Rain dripped down the windowpanes.
“Would you like to stay?” she asked.
He turned to face her, his eyebrows lifting as if he hadn’t expected her to ask. To be fair, she hadn’t expected to either. “Stay the night? Or a few hours?”
“Either? Both? I’m not sure if light rainfall will turn into dangerous, tornadic conditions, but one can never be too safe.”
“I would protect you from any tornado that dared show its face.” He came to her, his mouth tilted in an entirely too appealing way.
He cupped her hips in his hands. She lifted her arms and draped them over his shoulders. Then he backed her toward her bedroom.
Her sanctuary. The last place she thought she would entertain a male visitor again. But Dante was not Boyd. If he had been anything like Boyd, she would have kicked him out of her life so fast his head would have spun.
“What are you thinking about?”
She shook her head to dislodge the thought. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”
“Now I have to know.” He gestured toward the bed. “Did you change your mind about me staying? I’m willing to go back to my place, but you’re coming with me.”
“Oh, you’d throw me over your shoulder and carry me off to the Crane?”
“Pretty much.”
She kissed the sexy smile off his face.
“Actually, we have amazing amenities here at Chez Honesty.” She walked her fingers down his T-shirt. “We have a fully stocked kitchen, a chef…” She pointed to herself. “And my bed, while it’s not as large as yours, can easily support us and our plans for the next few hours.”
“A few hours?” He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “I’ll be asleep by then. Did you see how much I ate?”
“I did. I’m mildly appalled.”
“I left room for one more treat, though.” With nimble fingers, he slipped one pearl button after the other through the buttonholes until her dress sagged in the front. He tugged it off her shoulders, trapping her arms at her sides.
He caressed her breasts over her bra, using his thumbs to bring her nipples to turgid points.
She dropped her head back and enjoyed the attention.
Then he unhooked her bra and his tongue replaced his fingers and that was even better.
She threaded her hands into his hair and held him in place as she hummed in pleasure.
She found a burst of renewed energy, especially when his tongue circled the areola of her breast.
“I have plenty of room for more of this,” he murmured against her damp flesh. “I can’t wait to taste you everywhere tonight.”
Her short fingernails raked up his scalp while he continued to work her into a lather. A breathy moan left her lips as her feet left the floor. She was in his arms for a split second before he dropped her onto the soft quilt comforter.
On her back, she allowed her legs to fall open. He lowered his head and nipped at the gusset of her panties before giving her another devilish grin.
“This is my favorite treat. As much as I love the taste of your nipples, your pussy is twice as sweet.” Next, he stripped the delicate lace down her legs and threw it over his shoulder.
One word danced around her head, and not an erotic one. The word love.
It had been a long time since he’d told her he loved her. For her, that feeling never truly went away when she meant it. With Boyd, there’d been lust, but no love. Dante was different.
Not that she was anywhere near ready to profess her love to him, but she was woman enough to admit that she was beginning to feel something.
Not quite what she used to feel—the heady, overwhelming tsunami of first love.
This felt more like…respect. Attraction.
And admiration at how damned capable he was at everything.
Dangerous thoughts, those.
Desperate, she steered away from love to Love Island, and told him exactly what she wanted in no uncertain terms.
“I want your tongue on my clit.” Yep, that did it. Any pastel pink thoughts had gone deep velvet red. She made a “come here” gesture with her hands.
He had been pulling off his T-shirt and now sped up his movements, kicking aside his shoes and socks and pants.
Then he was gloriously naked, each shadowy muscle and plane another groove she’d like to run her tongue down.
“Your body is beautiful,” he said as he crawled over top of her. “How I have gone this many years without it, I’ll never know.”
“Careful,” she told him as he kissed her nipple again. She shouldn’t say more, and as it turned out, she didn’t have to.
Like her, he was willing to ignore any red flags or warning beacons.
Between her legs again, he parted her folds and ran his tongue slowly along her center. He lapped slow and unhurried. She lay back and closed her eyes and enjoyed the attention. Oh yes, this was a hangover remedy that rivaled all others.
When he reached the spot that pleased her the most, he knew. She let out a squeak of surprise as her hips lifted to get closer to his mouth. He didn’t speed up but continued his languid pace, which drove her absolutely wild.
“Yes! Oh, God, yes. Right there.” She continued encouraging him, but no matter how much she wiggled her hips back and forth or begged for relief from the mounting pressure, he did not speed up his pace.
If anything, he slowed down.
And then he moved, teasing her elsewhere. He kissed the insides of her thighs, the backs of her knees, and then kissed his way to her center where she felt the gentle whisper of his breath over her most sensitive part.
“You’re teasing me,” she complained on a broken cry.
“Yes. I am.” The vibration alone just about took her out.
When he continued this time, he allowed her lifting and dropping hips to set the rhythm. He followed every other solid lick with a few in rapid succession and then backed off before diving in again. This was possibly the most amazing she’d felt in her entire life.
Finally, when she was about to crest, he stopped and instructed, “Easy, easy. I want a slow, long orgasm. I want you to come and then I want you to come again and then I want you to come again. I don’t want any big game-enders yet. I want to be down here a while.”
She nodded, willing to agree to any kind of orgasm so long as she had one.
“Are we clear?” he teased, enjoying holding her at the edge.
“Yes, yes, yes.” And on that final, yes she came as he requested, slow and easy. Her lips pursed, the sounds exiting her mouth lifting into high-pitched mews.
She rode each exquisite wave, and it was as he’d requested: easy, and not a game-ender.
As one orgasm ended, he laid waste to her again, going as slowly as possible—stringing her along. His mouth would climb one leg, and then the other, before returning to her clit to tease her mercilessly. The same instruction followed: go slow, go easy.
After about three or four rounds that wrung the strength from her body, she was buzzing with satisfaction. He was lowering his head for another taste when she palmed his head and demanded, “I want to suck your cock.”
She had to say something to make him stop. She wasn’t at endgame yet, but close. Any more and he’d render her useless. She’d be asleep before she could have him inside of her.
He raised his head and his eyebrows, his handsome face framed by the V of her thighs. She took a mental photo of the image and tucked it into the back of her mind—he was a glorious sight.
The last time he’d been facedown between her legs was at the penthouse. Instead of lush fantasy-like surroundings, they were surrounded by her plants and lying on top of her floral quilt. In the sanctuary of her bedroom, the intimacy had gone through the roof.
Which brought her back to why she’d started talking dirty. Surviving a temporary affair with him required her to file it alphabetically under XXX.
“I thought that would get your attention.” Using her hands, she pushed herself toward the headboard and then slapped the side of the mattress next to her. “On your back, Mr. Crane. My turn to have a taste. Fair is fair.”
“You’re ruining my plans.” But the smile on his face suggested that nothing was ruined.
He laid on his back. She climbed on all fours, delighting when his gaze went to her swaying breasts and stayed there for a beat.
His cock was strong and proud, swollen and thick. There was no hiding from her when he was in this state. She was the predator and he was the prey. The switch in roles turned her on more. She could drink his vulnerability like fine wine.
She lowered her mouth to the tip and circled it with her tongue. Using her other hand, she gently massaged him as she continued sucking.
His low groans filled the air as his clenched fists bunched up her blankets. When she stole a look at him, she was pleased to find him staring back at her. The heat in his eyes was unparalleled, the blacks of his pupils eating up his irises.
This was Dante out of control.
No.
This was Dante under her control.
She didn’t know she craved that until this very moment.
Just when her jaw was beginning to grow sore, and his girth was becoming too much to bear, he gently pulled from her mouth.
“On top,” he growled. “Right now. I’m going to fuck you.”
She straddled his hips, lining up her center with the head of his dick before sliding down as slowly as she could manage. Unsurprisingly, thanks to his ample attention earlier, she was slick and ready for him.
They moaned together as she seated herself fully. His hands went to her hips. He guided her, gently at first, up and down, up and down.
Then he picked up the pace, fucking her as promised.
She reached up to fondle her breasts, paying particularly close attention to her responsive nipples.
But when he was close, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, she transferred her hands to his chest. Partially to hold herself upright, and partially to enjoy one last big release.
As good as those little ones had been, and as much as she still pulsed as a result, this is what she had been looking forward to all afternoon.
Her losing control with him as he lost himself in her.
He physically lifted her off him, his biceps straining, the veins on the side of his forehead coming to stark attention. Then he slammed her down again, gritting his teeth and growling under his breath.
That was all it took.
They came together in an explosion of pleasure, her screaming his name, him saying hers. And then she collapsed on top of his chest, her cheek against his damp skin. His hands rested on her body—one cupping her ass, one at her back.
As his chest rose and fell, she struggled to catch her own breath. She enjoyed the fresh buzz in her limbs and tried to stay lost in her body. But she came to a sluggish realization anyway.
She didn’t want him to leave tonight.
She wasn’t sure she ever wanted him to leave again.