Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I walk to the center of the open-plan living area as he closes and locks the door. The place looks exactly as I remember. The only items missing from the picture that’s burned into my mind are the champagne, candles, and rose petals.
I turn to Dante in surprise and repeat my question. “Why are we here?”
He walks to me with determined, predator-like steps. “Do you remember this place?”
Just like the first time he brought me here, nerves flitter in my belly. “Of course I do. You brought me here to take my V-card because you thought a hotel room would make me feel cheap.” I close the remaining distance between us and place a hand on his chest. “It wouldn’t have, just so you know. Being with you can never feel cheap, no matter where we are.”
He catches my wrist and presses my hand on his heart, preventing me from pulling away.
“Dante.” My voice is soft. “Why are we here?”
The darkness I glimpsed at the cemetery moves across his features. “I want you to give yourself to me.”
“I have.” I stare into his eyes. “Body and soul.”
“Do it again,” he challenges. “Show me.”
I don’t know why he needs this, but I do know that he needs me. So I show him. I drop my bag on the sofa and reach behind me to unzip my dress. The soft fabric pools around my heels, leaving me in the underwear set I found in my drawer with the price tags still intact. Silver thread weaves through the lace, and pink ribbons decorate the straps. The bra and panties are sexy but classy, portraying soft, innocent femininity. I can’t be sure, but I think he bought them for me.
He drags his gaze over my body, studying my curves with a hungry look in his eyes.
“This is yours.” I motion at my body as I kick off my shoes. “Take it.”
He doesn’t let me invite him twice. He scoops me up into his arms and carries me down the hallway. In the bedroom, he lowers me onto the bed.
He undresses quickly, leaving his clothes and gun on the chair, before climbing over me. He’s a beautiful portrait of ink and muscles, a man defined by darkness and sin. Taking his time, he removes first the bra and then the panties. When I’m naked, he bends my knee and hooks it over his shoulder. Like that first time, he doesn’t allow me to hide beneath the covers or from his unabashedly bold stare as he studies every inch of me.
Supporting his weight on one arm, he slips his free hand between my legs. I’m wet already. The discovery darkens his eyes, making the amber color appear like molten gold.
I’m wet enough to take him, all of him, and this isn’t the first time when he had to be careful with me. He guides his cock to my folds and enters me with a decisive shove of his hips. The position in which he holds me opens me wider and gives him deeper access. I feel him everywhere inside me, filling all the spaces in my heart.
“Dante,” I moan, biting my lip to stifle the scream threatening to escape.
“Tell me.” He pulls back and slides in again, igniting a fire beneath my skin and flames in the pit of my belly. “Don’t deprive me, Tatiana. Tell me how it feels.”
I arch my back, unable to articulate in sound the intensity of the sensations coursing through me. I want to give him what he’s asking for, but I’m not capable of more than a deep, throaty, “Ah.”
He splays his hand over my belly in a possessive touch, holding it there for a moment as he starts to move his hips. The warmth of his broad palm bleeds into my skin. The touch is anchoring and soothing. I imagine him cupping my round belly when I was pregnant with Noah, but for some reason, the image refuses to fully take shape. I have a bizarre notion that I never experienced that intimacy with the father of my baby.
But then he strokes his hand up my body to cup my breast, and all logical thoughts abandon me.
“Tell me,” he says, increasing his pace. “Tell me who you belong to.”
I don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.”
And there’s something so right with that statement, a feeling of safety knowing my place is with him, that I belong here, in his arms. When I’m with him, I always experience a profound sense of peace.
He brushes his knuckles over my nipple, teasing it into a hard point. “That’s the only right answer there can ever be.”
I grip his shoulders as he lowers his head and flicks his tongue over the tip before sucking it into his mouth. He explores my breast with kisses and nips, doing so at his leisure before moving to my other breast.