How, even if I might hate the words he speaks, I know fundamentally they’re his truth, and no matter how much I try to push him away, he’s like a freight train plowing through my defenses.
Dante pulls out and thrusts back in, and I choke on my breath as he takes me from behind, so animalistically that I have no choice but to bend to his will and be fucked within an inch of my life.
This is Dante, in all his glory; fierce, voracious, and unapologetic.
He continues pounding into me, and noises escape me, guttural sounds I’ve never made before being yanked out of me from whatever beast is within him.
I'm his.
The thought is recurring, no matter how much I might defy him or deny saying it out loud.
Right now, I’m his. Entirely.
He grabs my hands and pins them behind my back, giving me no choice but for my face to be shoved farther into my underwear, an erotic smell perfuming my nostrils. Mud splashes as he plows into me as a man possessed, and I’ve learned my lesson. I cannot run away from Dante Moretti.
Nor do I want to. My pussy clenches hard, creating further friction, as a throaty growl escapes him as my reward.
I push back farther into him, my arms almost at breaking point. But I don’t care. I want all of Dante. I want to be claimed by him wholly, because he’s the only man I know who can handle all of me.
“Dante,” I cry out as the pleasurable climb begins. Fuck, I’m going to come.
His pace quickens as he plows into me, nearly tearing off my arms.
“Dante!” I scream as he drives home once more, jerking and groaning as he rocks back and forth into me while wave after pleasurable wave washes over me.
Suddenly, it feels like everything stops, a moment of serenity and pure, maddening bliss.
The moment the wave recedes, he flips me onto my back and begins eating out my pussy.
“Oh fuck!” I'm hypersensitive to his every touch and lick. Within seconds, he's moving up my body until we're face-to-face. Then he kisses me. I taste myself, the heated pleasure fueling him as I groan at the way he somehow steals more from me than I ever bargained for.
Then he’s back inside me, fucking me hard. I’m sore, I’m cold, I’m transfixed, and I’m connected.
For the first time in God knows how long, I feel alive, connecting with something else other than my depression and grief. And it’s a maddening pleasure that I know will never go away.
Because Dante will never leave.
And that’s as terrifying as it is reassuring.
27
DANTE
Icarry her bridal style into the cabin, cradled in my shirt and jacket, only offering her the slightest hint of modesty as my jeans hang low on my waist. I’d check for Izak’s cleanup text later, ensuring there are no loose ends left by which to track us, especially considering the mess I’d left at the bar.
Romi’s makeup runs down her face, mixed with mud. Perhaps I’d been too rough on her, but this time I simply couldn’t hold back; my blood pulsing to claim every inch of her so she understands who she belongs to.
She’s limp and tired in my arms, and a part of me considers how nice it might be to have another week of sick leave from work to spend cuddled on the couch with her… and fucking her.
I turn on the lights and head to the bathroom trying to hide my limp, the love burn a delightful reminder of when she shot me.
Romi admires the cabin, the small fireplace in the corner, which won’t take long to start, the bed in the center of the room, and the animal heads mounted on the walls.
“Wow, is this your personal man cave?” she asks.
“No, I rented it like a normal person,” I reply dryly, but I make a detour on the way to the bathroom in order to pick up one of the blankets from the couch and throw it over the animal head above the bed, knowing most likely that’s what's making her uncomfortable.
“I couldn’t imagine you doing something so mundane.”
