Dante: Chapter 9

Ifeel the heat and the energy from Dante even before he speaks. My body is hyper aware of his, and whenever he is in the same room, there is a crackling of energy between us. I have thought about him all day. When I woke up needy and wet this morning, it was because I’d been dreaming about his hands on me.

But I won’t give in to him. It’s fun to tease him, but that’s all this can be. I refuse to be used and tossed aside by him. So when he plants his hands on the counter either side of me a few seconds later, I absolutely do not buckle.

“You want some tea?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper because I’m struggling to hold it together.

“No.”

“So what can I do for you, Mr. Moretti?”

He dips his head low until his lips are brushing the shell of my ear. “I want to stop playing games, Kat,” he whispers, making me shiver.

“W-what do you mean?”

He presses his body closer, until my back is touching his chest. I am caged in by him. He’s everywhere, his scent, his touch, but I don’t feel trapped at all. It’s all I can do to stop myself from moaning his name and begging him to take me right here on the kitchen counter.

“You have any idea how hard I’ve been since I slid my fingers inside you last night? How I can’t get the taste of your wet cunt out of my head.”

Sweet mother of God! I press my ass back against him and feel his huge, hard cock against my lower back.

“I want you, Kat. I want to fuck you so bad it hurts. I want to finish what I started and finger fuck your cunt until you scream my goddamn name. I want you to ride my face until you come all over my tongue.”

“But I hate you,” I pant the words, and I’m pretty sure neither of us believes that anymore.

“It’s okay to want someone you don’t like, Kat,” he growls, and the deep cadence of his voice rolls into my core. “It’s just a physical reaction. You don’t have to like me, but I know you want me. You know how good we would be together.”

He pulls my hair back, his fingertips brushing over the soft skin of my neck and making goosebumps prickle out all over my body and wet heat sear between my thighs.

He runs his nose over my throat, inhaling deeply. “You smell so fucking good.” Then he clears his throat, as though he got distracted and lost his train of thought. “I would fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked before in your life, kitten. We know it’s only a matter of time.”

“Dante,” I say his name in a stuttered breath. This is too much. He is too much. If I let him, he would consume me. Just like fire feeds on oxygen, he would take everything I have left and leave me a broken shell. Regardless, I am drawn to him anyway. I feel him in every part of me, reaching for my very soul.

Then he is gone again. The loss of his warmth and the solid feel of his body pressed against mine leaves me feeling lacking and bereft.

I sigh with relief and frustration once he’s left the room. No more games, Kat! This is the last time I go wandering around the house at night, hoping to bump into the devil, because the next time it happens, I might just let him drag me into hell.