Chapter 17 #2
Dante had changed into light gray sweatpants.
That was it. I’d seen Dante shirtless in music videos, photos online, or during concerts, but I’d never seen him shirtless this close.
His bare torso was even more muscular in person, and his dark skin was flawless.
When he bent over to arrange the food, I spotted a large ram skull tattoo spanning the skin of his upper back and shoulder blades.
Flames wrapped around each bicep in black ink, and a dusting of hair ran from his navel to below the waist band of his low-riding sweatpants.
Heat engulfed my body and settled where I now pressed my thighs together. It was almost like he could sense the intense, needy reaction to the sight of him, because his eyes snapped up to meet mine from where he was still bent over the table.
I sucked in a hard breath and quickly turned my back on him. “What do I think about what?” I cringed at how rough my voice came out.
Dante appeared at my side and leaned his broad shoulder against the bookshelf beside me. His woodsy and clean scent wrapped around me, making my body buzz with even more desire. It didn’t help that he cocked his head toward the bookshelves with a knowing twitch of his lips.
“What else? What do you think about my shelves? Can you work your magic on them and make them pretty like yours?”
“Oh,” I croaked, mentally slapping myself for thinking he was asking about my thoughts on him. “Yes. I mean, it will be a project, but I think it will be a lot of fun.”
“Can’t wait. In the meantime …” He pointed over my shoulder. “I think that section will be the one that interests you the most.”
I followed him and took great pains to not stare at his perfect ass … though I did sneak a glance. Or two.
The section he brought me to made a smile stretch across my face, and I instantly looked over the many romance titles.
“You know me so well,” I laughed, pulling one off the shelf to read the back. The fantasy romance sounded right up my alley, and my immediate interest must’ve been obvious.
“Want to borrow it?” he chuckled.
“Yes, please!”
I sat the book with my belongings before pulling out our books from earlier that day. We settled in the seating area. He got a fire going while I sat back on the couch, facing the large hearth.
“Do you prefer sound or silence while reading?” he asked.
“Sound, for sure. I always have music or a show going while I read.”
“Say no more.”
He pressed a switch by the fireplace, and the bare wall above the mantle slid up to reveal a TV tucked into the wall.
Without a word, Dante went to a streaming app and wordlessly started up one of my favorite Korean dramas.
A warm match lit inside me. He didn’t have to remember the shows I loved, yet …
he did. He took the time to not only listen when I spoke but to hear me.
Dante sat on the floor between the coffee table and couch. The show and crackling fire filled the room with their soft sounds. I nestled back and opened my book while he dove back into his.
There was a certain sense of comfort and intimacy that came from sitting with Dante while we each immersed ourselves in our own stories.
There wasn’t this uncomfortable pressure to carry on a conversation or to give him my undivided attention.
There wasn’t an expectation to be a certain version of myself to appease his needs.
Instead, there was a sweetness in the silence between us, yet there was no shortage of being together.
I’d be fully engrossed in an action-packed scene only to feel a tap on my knee as Dante held a strawberry up over his shoulder, his eyes still glued to his own book.
I’d lean forward to accept the fruit or cracker or whatever else he held out for me.
He’d chortle or scoff under his breath while reading certain scenes, and I’d peer over his shoulder to see what drew the reaction out of him.
We existed unapologetically as ourselves.
I’d never felt this level of comfort with another person.
I’d never felt safe in my own skin or mind. I’d never felt so light.
Eventually, I stretched out to lay on my stomach, my head near Dante’s shoulder.
I propped my book on the couch and my head on my fist, gripped by the slow burn romance unfolding before me.
When the couple finally kissed during a heated argument, I kicked my feet lightly behind me and squealed happily under my breath.
“That’s a fun reaction,” Dante said, turning to look over his shoulder at me. “What—”
“Shh!” I quickly said, placing my finger over Dante’s mouth without looking away from the book. “They’re finally kissing!”
His lips lifted behind my finger. He turned back to his book, and I dove back into the toe-curling romance in front of me.
The passion in the scene drew me in like a fish on a hook, and the more I read, the more a part of me craved it.
I craved to be kissed, touched, and loved like this, but that had never been a reality for me with Bradley. Maybe it never would be.
“Well, that’s a somber expression to have when reading about two characters finally fucking.”
I looked up to find that Dante had turned. His bearded chin was propped on his fist while his elbow rested on the couch cushion near my book. He watched me, amusement glittering in his eyes.
My cheeks heated, and I wondered how long he’d been watching me. Instead of asking that, an entirely different question came spilling out before I could think better of it.
“Is it really like how it’s depicted in books?”
He raised a brow. “Define ‘it.’”
“You know …” I waved a hand at the open book, still on the scene that was just beginning to get hot. “Kissing and everything that comes after.”
“It can be if you’re doing it with a partner who knows what they’re doing or one that’s willing to learn. Sex should be good for all parties involved.”
“So it’s not meant to be good for just the guy?”
Dante dropped his hand and stared at me hard. “Is that what you were told?”
I shrugged. “I mean, it’s all I know. Bradley always got off and seemed to enjoy himself, but I never felt anything.
Honestly, it was pretty boring. Not to mention, my very religious step-mother told me that sex was only about a woman serving her husband and gifting him children.
” My nose wrinkled as I forced out the words that had been jammed into my head since I was little.
“Humans and their stupid lies,” Dante grumbled under his breath.
I tilted my head slightly at the odd addressal. “Humans? That’s—”
My words caught in my throat as Dante’s palm cupped my cheek and pulled me close. His lips met mine, and the air zapped from my body with an electrifying pulse. He tilted my head to deepen the kiss, his tongue swooping in to tangle with my own.
Fire made up of everything sinful, hungry, and primal engulfed my body until all I could think about was him—his strong palm coasting over my jaw to hold my head where he wanted it, his soft lips reteaching me what it meant to be claimed, his sweet tongue owning mine.
All I felt was Dante, and I wanted more.
I wanted closer. I wanted him to show me more of this relentless, starved passion that he’d managed to spark with a mere sweep of his lips and tongue.
As if sensing my mounting need, he pushed in harder while also moving to grip my upper arm. He tugged me toward him, and I followed that pull, sliding off the couch and onto the floor beside him. No sooner had I found a spot next to him than he grabbed me and pulled me between his legs.
He abruptly broke the kiss, but he didn’t go far. His face hovered centimeters away so that his lips brushed mine as he ordered roughly, “Turn around.”
I could barely catch my breath. My lips tingled from the kiss, and a sensual fog had taken up residency in my brain.
I did as he instructed without argument and turned on shaky limbs so that my back was to him, settled in the apex of his spread legs.
His hands slid to my inner thighs and parted them, only to hook them over his own thighs where his legs could keep them held apart.
With his hands free now, one snaked around me to pull me flush against his warm, broad torso.
His lips grazed my ear, and he whispered, “Let me show you what real pleasure feels like.”
The idea of receiving pleasure at the hands of Dante made a shiver dart down my back.
God, how I wanted him to show me and teach me everything he knew about sex and physical euphoria.
But the part of my brain that constantly worried about messing things up screamed that this could be a mistake. This could ruin our relationship.
His hands trailed up my torso, over my shirt, and between my breasts until he gripped my chin. He turned my head back in his direction and started to bend his head toward mine again.
“W-Will we still be friends after?” I asked shakily, my frantic yet lustful eyes locked on his.
He chuckled softly under his breath. “Yeah, Star. We’ll still be friends.”
I swallowed hard and, for once, decided to ignore the made-up warning in my mind. “Okay.”
His mouth crushed mine again. His firm hand kept my face tilted back toward his, all while the other dragged across my stomach at an agonizingly slow pace before it dipped beneath the waistband of my sweatpants and panties.
I gasped into Dante’s mouth. Lightning practically rippled through me from the mere roaming of Dante’s fingers between my open legs. His hand hadn’t even reached my crease or the place I always touched, yet I was wetter than I’d ever been and hungry for anything this man was willing to give me.
His tongue shoved into my mouth just as his finger slid slowly between my folds. A groan rumbled through his throat. “Goddamn, you’re fucking soaked.”
I blew out a hard breath and fisted his pants along his thighs, needing something to hold onto as the tip of his finger rubbed over my pulsing clit. “Dante!”
The wave of pleasure that shot through me with that one motion was nearly too much, and my legs wanted to close yet open wider all at once. They seemed just as frazzled as I was.
“Keep those legs open for me,” Dante purred, nibbling on the skin of my neck.
I gasped and bunched his pants tighter as my head fell back onto his shoulder.
All the while, one lone finger of his made a slow drag up and down through my hot core.
My legs trembled, and my chest heaved. This was unlike anything I’d ever done solo or with Bradley.
Even though it was the same spot I’d shown attention or where Bradley had tried, something in Dante’s skilled caress made it far different.
Entire galaxies in every color spun behind my shut eyes, and the sweet heat of uncharted suns blazed at my core.
This was Heaven.
No.
This was Hell, and I never, ever wanted to be saved from these roaring flames.
“Dante,” I moaned, my chin tilting up as my back arched against his chest.
He made another slow pass over my clit. “That’s it. Feel me, Serenity. Focus on what you’re feeling. This is it, beautiful. This is pleasure, and it’s fucking real.”
I bit my lip as the pressure he applied to my clit increased.
Pleasure soared through my limbs and body until I couldn’t help but buck slightly against his quickening stroke through my pussy.
His other hand released its grip on my throat to trail down my front.
It slipped under the hem of my shirt and made its ascent to my breasts.
Dante cupped and squeezed my large breast as he rubbed along my aching center.
I pushed my chest out, loving the new prickles of delight that his palm created.
His fingers quickly trailed along the strap and yanked it down to free my full puckered breast from its confines.
He wasted no time returning to my now bare chest. He pinched and rolled my nipple to the tempo at which his finger rubbed and flicked my clit.
“Fuck,” Dante growled. “You have no idea how perfect you are. You have no idea what you do to me.”
The wet inferno raging at my center grew until I was a shaking, huffing mess in Dante’s arms. His hard dick pressed into my back, and I leaned further into him as my pleasure mounted.
I threw my head back on a loud moan as the galaxies behind my eyes finally combusted and burst in an array of brilliant light.
I wasn’t sure how many seconds ticked by before I finally caught my breath and managed to peel my eyes open.
I’d done so just in time, because Dante withdrew his fingers from between my legs.
I looked over my shoulder as he brought the glistening digits to his mouth.
His dark, sultry eyes stayed locked on my half-lidded ones as he smirked salaciously and licked his fingers before sucking them dry.
“You’re fucking addicting, Star. And I’m not even close to finished.”