Dante lowers himself over me, the shadows of the room folding around his shoulders as if the darkness knows it belongs to him. The warmth of his breath grazes my lips, and instinct sends a tremor through my body. My fingers drag up his chest, searching for something solid to anchor to, something that will keep me from flying apart.
His mouth claims mine before I can think, before I can breathe. My nails catch against his skin as he deepens the kiss, swallowing the sound that rises inside my throat. Every inch of him crowds into my space, pushing me further into the cool floor, pinning me with a devotion so fierce it borders on violence.
I tense when he shifts closer, my body bracing on instinct. But his voice finds me through the haze. “Relax,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Let me in.”
His hands slide up my legs, a touch that contrasts sharply with the intensity radiating from him. I feel myself unravelingbeneath his palms, my breath hitching, my heart thudding hard enough to bruise. The world narrows to the impossible closeness that steals the remaining air from my lungs.
He begins to push in, and pain flashes through me first. A sharp, startling wave that sends stars bursting behind my eyelids. My back scrapes against the floor, my fingers digging into his shoulders as a cry tears free. He holds me through it steadily, his lips brushing a careful kiss to my neck as if he can soothe the ache he’s causing.
“You’re doing so good,” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint. “There you go… that’s it.”
The pain bends, reshapes itself, melts into something deeper, something that coils low in my stomach and tightens with every breath I take. My body learns him slowly, inch by inch, until the tension begins to ease and the tremor in my thighs becomes something else entirely.
His palms slam down beside my head as he braces himself, and then he begins to move. The world tilts as a shockwave rips through me, stealing every coherent thought. One, then another, as the lights seem to flicker in time with the rhythm he sets, each movement sending heat rolling through my limbs in blinding waves.
My mouth falls open, but no sound comes out—just broken breaths, just desperate air.
“Take it,” he growls, the words trembling with the force of what he feels. “Takeallof it.”
My fingers claw at his back, my vision blurring as the pressure in my core tightens to an indescribable level. His hand finds my hair, fisting it as if he needs the anchor as badly as I do.
“Mine,” he bites out, each word shaking through me. I will never get tired of hearing him say this. “Mine to worship. Mine to break. Mine tolove.”
Something fractures inside me at the last word—at the claim, at the violence simmering beneath it. He says it so effortlessly that I can’t tell if it’s even real.
The pleasure strikes with brutal force as my back arches, a scream ripping from somewhere deep as the world dissolves into white-hot sensation. I cling to him, arms wrapping around his neck, desperate to hold onto something solid while everything else shatters, while he begins to pound me against the floor.
Through the blur, I see the veins tracing along his arms, his throat, his shoulders, andfuck, I’m grateful he’s holding me down, because I’m not sure my body would survive this without his hold.
My vision tunnels into darkness, the pleasure so fierce and consuming that it tears through me like a storm, shredding to pieces whatever is left of my body, including my goddamn heart.
The euphoria detonates inside me, raw and blinding, and a scream rips out of my chest so violently that my throat turns ragged from the force of it.
Dante breaks right with me as he cries out my name, each repetition a raw, desperate litany. He shudders, pumping into me relentlessly, filling me so deeply I feel it coming up my throat.
That felt like a goddamn journey straight to hell, and nothing has ever felt better.
Breathless and trembling, we lie on the floor, holding onto each other as the aftershocks wrack our bodies. He tightens his arms around me, a lifeline I can’t let go of.
He allows the fall to begin, then hurls himself after me, intercepting my body in the middle like he was always meant to break the impact.
And in the split-second glow of each flash, our future reveals itself, bright and stubborn, shining through the shattered pieces.
Barcelona, Spain
Aslight breeze coaxes my skin into a shiver, goosebumps rising in its gentle wake. A faint ray of sunlight slips through the milky curtains, pouring a soft, endless glow across the room. My fingers drift lazily through his hair, combing the dark, silken strands as I soak in the heat radiating from his body.
I breathe in the crisp, salty morning air and try to think about breakfast. I’ve been awake for maybe twenty minutes, and the thought has been tapping insistently at the back of my mind, but I can’t summon an ounce of energy to move.
Dante and I have a serious problem: neither of us can detach from the other. From the moment we got home, we picked up exactly where we left off—pausing only long enough to shove food or water into our bodies before we were clawing at each other again. We shower together, cook together, and even brush our teeth side by side.
And every second of it, I keep circling back to the same startling certainty.
This feels like the way it was always meant to be. Like my whole life I’d been chasing something just out of reach—and now, finally, it’s right here in my hands, filling every cold, empty place I’ve carried for years.
A vibration trembles through the sheets, faint but insistent, and I blink, unsure if I imagined it. When it buzzes again, I muster what little strength remains in my limbs and twist around. The creamy sheets whisper as I reach for my phone, an unknown number pulsing on the screen.
I lean toward the nightstand and snag Dante’s black T-shirt, pulling it over my naked body. My hand scrubs across my sleep-swollen face before I hit the green button and lift the phone to my ear.
