A Dangerous Idea
Evelyn
The trouble I’d been in before was nothing compared to this. Dante’s cold indifference, his scowling demeanor—that I knew what to do with. But this version of him, in full-on seduction mode, was something I was completely unequipped to handle.
Gone was the careful self-control. The alternate agenda. In its place was pure desire. It burned behind his silver eyes and made my pulse race and my stomach flutter as if a swarm of butterflies had gotten trapped in there.
I kissed him the whole way to his bedroom. When we got there, he kicked the door open with his heel, and I felt him unzipping the back of my dress.
We only broke contact when he laid me on the bed. I stared up at him, heat coiling in my stomach, spreading lower into my core.
I was so hot for him, it was insane. All night I’d felt his eyes on me, and that little show of possessiveness had only served to heighten my awareness of him. I liked that he wanted me. I loved that he couldn’t keep his hands off me.
It gave me a tiny iota of power in a situation in which I felt utterly helpless.
But I wasn’t thinking about any of that as he leaned over me and peeled the straps of the gown off my shoulders.
“You drove me crazy tonight,” he murmured roughly, as his hot, slightly calloused hands ran down my arms. I felt like he was scorching me. Setting me on fire with every caress.
Down the dress went, inch by agonizing inch. I squirmed as he followed it with kisses. The scrape of his stubble against my stomach sent violent shivers through me.
“Dante,” I gasped.
He made a low, growling sound in the back of his throat like hearing his name on my lips caused him actual pain.
The dress slid lower.
“Every man in the museum was staring at you tonight.”
His mouth closed over my breast and I gasped, fingers tangling instantly in his dark hair. He made a sound of pure satisfaction as he licked and sucked my needy nipple.
Lingering deliberately, he teased me until my entire body felt feverish and hypersensitive, until I could barely think past the pleasure building inside me.
The silk continued disappearing downward under his hands.
He kissed the sensitive curve beneath my ribs, then lower still, until I was twisting against the sheets trying to get closer to him.
“Easy, baby,” he murmured as I unraveled beneath him. I was melting into a liquid bundle of pure sensation and want.
His large hands spanned my waist, holding me still while his tongue plunged into my belly button, causing me to arch up toward him. How could such a small action be so intensely erotic?
I moaned, gasping his name.
“Dante, please—” I didn’t know what I was pleading for… but I needed more of it. More of him.
Grabbing the fabric in both hands, he tugged it down over my hips, down my thighs, and finally off me altogether. I heard the soft sigh as it landed in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed.
Then his mouth was back, but this time kissing me up the inside of my leg. I still wore my stilettos, but no underwear. He’d removed that with the dress.
Now he lifted his head and stared down at me, his silver eyes alive with hunger.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
Heat rushed through me at the rough sincerity in his voice. I could tell that he meant it.
“My Ophelia,” he murmured, sliding his hands up my thighs until they reached the apex. Then he parted me slowly and lowered his mouth to me.
I cried out the instant his tongue touched me.
He tasted me deeply, making a low sound of approval that sent another violent tremor through my body. I was already raw with need, already aching for him, and the slow, deliberate sweep of his tongue nearly shattered what little composure I had left.
“Dante… oh God…” I moaned, grasping his head and holding him close.
He groaned against me, and the vibration tipped me even closer to the edge. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in my core until every nerve ending felt stretched taut.
Then he found my needy clit and the slow pull of his mouth sent pleasure crashing through me so hard my back arched off the bed. I cried out, my whole body shaking as wave after wave broke over me, hot and overwhelming.
Dante held me in place, gripping my hips firmly while he drew out every last shuddering pulse of pleasure until I collapsed back against the sheets, breathless and trembling.
Only then did he lift his head.
He crawled up my body, a smug look on his devastatingly handsome face.
“I’ll never get tired of watching you fall apart for me,” he murmured, settling over me.
Despite my nakedness, he was still fully dressed. Still trembling, I reached for him and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Impatient, he tore it open himself and shrugged it off, tossing the ruined fabric aside without a second thought.
My eyes raked over the hard planes of his chest, the powerful lines of his shoulders and stomach. Every inch of him looked built for sin.
I reached lower, undoing his pants with shaking fingers. The moment I freed him, he groaned softly beneath his breath, the sound rough and male and deeply satisfying.
“You see what you do to me?” he rasped.
Heat rushed through me at the raw hunger in his voice. Wrapping my hand around him, I stroked slowly, fascinated by the way his entire body reacted. His eyes closed briefly and a low growl vibrated through his chest.
God.
Seeing Dante Marcelli lose control was intoxicating.
He leaned over me, large hands spanning my waist before sliding upward to cup my breasts possessively. His touch was firm, almost reverent, and the contrast between his strength and the careful way he handled me made my stomach tighten.
The air between us thickened with heat.
It no longer felt like simple lust. It was deeper than that. More dangerous. Like we were giving each other pieces of ourselves we’d never intended to surrender.
His gaze locked onto mine, dark and consuming.
“I’m going to make love to you now, Ophelia,” he murmured, as he reached over to the nightstand.
I touched his wrist before he could open the drawer. “Don’t.”
He stared at me, eyes narrowing. “You sure?”
“I’m on the pill,” I rasped. I wanted to feel him, all of him. In his naked, unsheathed glory.
For a second he simply stared at me, something unreadable flickering across his face.
I wanted this… wanted him. Inside me. Filling me up like he had before but this time we’d both be naked. I wanted to feel consumed… possessed… anchored by him.
It was a feeling I wasn’t used to. I’d been on my own for so long that the bond I felt when he was inside me, filling me up, was heady and addictive.
Slowly, he pushed inside me, inch by devastating inch.
“Jesus, Ophelia,” he groaned, burying his face briefly against my neck like the sensation physically hurt him. “You feel so… fucking good.”
“So do you,” I whispered, my hands going around his neck.
He was still buried deep inside me, and I felt every inch of his rock-solid cock as I quivered around it.
It felt so right. Like he belonged there.
I closed my eyes, my head dropping back.
“Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to watch you light up.”
I opened my eyes and stared at him.
“That’s my girl.”
Slowly, he pulled out and I groaned, before he surged forward again, filling me instantly. Still sensitive from his mouth, I trembled beneath him as the embers burning inside me burst into flames once again.
I clung to him helplessly as the rhythm between us intensified and his control frayed more with every passing second. The headboard struck against the wall, our breathing turning ragged and uneven as the pressure inside me climbed higher and higher.
I gripped onto him as pleasure crashed through me in hot, staggering waves.
“Christ, I can feel you coming,” he growled.
My orgasm triggered his and I dragged him over the edge with me. His whole body tensed before he let out a rough groan and exploded deep inside me.
His uneven thrusts only intensified the pleasure still crashing through me, until we were both shaking and breathless, completely spent.
Only then did he close his eyes and collapse against me.
I woke up from a deliciously sexy dream to find my head resting on Dante’s shoulder and his arm around me. Somehow, I’d flung my arm and leg over his naked body under the sheets.
Memories of last night flooded my brain and I froze, unsure what to do. I was naked too, my body languid and drained after all the orgasms he’d given me.
I could feel his chest hair against my cheek, his abs softened with sleep under my hand, and his hard, hairy leg underneath mine.
Our bodies were so close that his thigh was pressing between my legs, right where I was already so sensitive, and my bent knee was resting on…
God. I’d forgotten just how impressive he was first thing in the morning.
The man was rock hard and twitching beneath me.
If I moved, I was sure to wake him, and I didn’t know if either of us was ready to face what had happened last night.
I decided the best thing to do was to extricate myself as gently as possible and scoot over to the other side of the bed. From there, I could find something with which to cover myself and make a dash for the bathroom.
I was just getting ready to make my move when he stirred, and his arm tightened around me.
Damn it. Now I couldn’t go anywhere. Not without waking him up fully.
I felt him shift his hips a little bit. His thigh moved upwards and I had to resist the urge to rub against him. Already, my nipples were hardening.
Great. Now I was awake and very turned on—and couldn’t get away from him to go back to my room and regroup. Or take a cold shower.
I thought about last night. The way he’d felt sliding into me, the way he’d locked eyes with me as we’d come. Together. How he’d emptied his hot seed inside me until we were both spent and trembling.
It had been the best, most intense sex I’d ever had.
I got the feeling very few people had seen Dante like that.
But what did it mean? I asked myself as I lay there.
This was not your usual relationship. His family was using my gallery shamelessly, and now their turf war meant I was in danger of losing it all. I had no choice but to join forces with them to defeat the opposition.
It wasn’t even my darn fight, and here I was fighting it. I’d already lied to Mikhail, which would feed back to Sergei. If he ever found out, I was a dead woman.
I shuddered, involuntarily clutching Dante. His cock prodded me in the thigh, while the knuckles on his free hand brushed my breast.
Traitorous nipples, I grumbled silently as they puckered as if electrocuted by his touch. That time I did thrust against his leg. I couldn’t help it.
I felt him shift and then still as he woke up.
A beat passed, then he let out a rough groan and pulled me fully on top of him.
“Now this is how I want to wake up every morning,” he said, as his erection nestled between my legs.
I was needy as hell, and my body was already hot for him in a way that was impossible to hide, so I didn’t even try.
“Damn, you’re so ready for me,” he murmured, as the tip of his cock slid between my slick lips.
“Must be from last night,” I lied.
He chuckled and my cheeks burned. Thank goodness the curtains were drawn and the light was dim. He wouldn’t see my blushes.
I was lying on top of him though, and every part of his hard, muscular body was pushing into mine. I ran my fingers up the inside of his forearm, over the fine script I’d noticed the very first night.
“What does it say?” I murmured.
I felt him tense beneath me.
“It’s Latin,” he said, after a beat.
“I can see that.” I traced the first word again. “But what does it mean?”
There was another long silence and then his hand came up and closed gently around mine.
“Not yet,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my neck. His hands traveled down my back and squeezed my butt, locking me in place. One more upward thrust and he’d be inside me. Already, he was poised at my opening. My breasts were squished against his chest, and the friction was driving me crazy.
“Open for me, Ophelia,” he demanded, angling his hips upward.
I gave a soft moan and did as he asked.
I was so wet, he slid inside with no effort. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Dante,” I moaned, biting my lip as I accepted all of him.
“I know, baby,” he growled, as a hand snaked into my hair and he pulled my head down toward him. He kissed me—a long, searing kiss that left me reeling.
Slowly, we moved together. It was languid and unrushed, as if we wanted to savor every moment. The rhythm built and our lips locked as we moved as one.
When we came this time, it was wrapped in each other’s arms, and I’d never felt anything so perfect.
It was just a pity it couldn’t last.
Chloe: I’m taking your silence as a yes
Chloe: I want a full debrief. Monday. With visual aids.
Chloe: Fine, abandon me. But be safe, and do NOT fall for him. (You’re not falling for him, are you?)