My heart wildly hammers against my ribs, adrenaline surging through me like a flood of fire. It burns its way across my skin, leaving sparks wherever it touches until I feel branded by the very idea of him.
My mind drifts for a moment, a picture forming in my head—Dante coming in here, stepping out of the shadows and grabbing me, those possessive, strong hands wrapping around my body. Lifting me up, using my disorientation to his advantage.
I’m always alert, always ready to defend myself. I’ve spent years training for that, sharpening my skills, preparing for anything.
But with Dante, I feel like I can relax. Like I can let go, even for a moment, and pretend to be confused, pretend to be weaker than I actually am.
Because I know he will never exploit my weakness.
I squeeze my thighs, feeling a slick warmth between them. Biting my lower lip, I picture more, the scent of the perfume making me slightly dizzy. Tingles spread, and a shaky, quiet moan slips past my lips, breaking the stillness.
UNKNOWN:
Are you picturing naughty things, little shadow?
A shiver slithers down my spine, crawling across every raw nerve. That pet name hangs in the air, and I don’t know what it’s supposed to awaken in me.
Without thinking, my fingers begin clicking against the keyboard, the sound of each key blurring into chaos.
ME:
You must be very brave to think I won’t put a knife in you the next time we meet, considering that absurd pet name you just invented.
A spark of rebellion flashes inside me, but it’s dim, and nowhere near as strong as the amusement and pleasure swelling together.
Still, I’m curious about what he’ll say.
UNKNOWN:
I’m never sure you won’t kill me.
I chuckle, impressed by the way he navigates the game—how effortlessly he keeps me engaged, always just out of reach.
UNKNOWN:
And there’s nothing absurd about it. You’re like a shadow, clinging to me everywhere I go, haunting me even in my dreams.
I stare at the message like it’s a spider’s web glinting in shadow—sticky and patient, daring me to step closer. My cheeks burn crimson, and I know that once I let the words catch me, they’ll wrap me up completely.
ME:
Poetic or not, you surely are being a creep right now, you realize that?
My eyes flick behind me, landing on the neatly folded clothes on my bed. Chewing on my lip, I consider walking closer, touching them again. I move to the bed and set my phone beside the clothes. Even with our texts now vanished, Dante’s presence lingers.
No matter how much time passes, I can’t calm the storm brewing inside me. A low warmth keeps sparking in the pit of my stomach, my mouth drying as the burn slowly descends between my thighs.
I nearly choke on my own air when a new message sends a vibration spreading across the sheets.
UNKNOWN:
Don’t you want to wear it?
A persistent tug gnaws at the back of my mind—a cocktail of emotions sharpening every sense at once, the intensity pulsing into a dull, throbbing ache across my skull.
I do. I want to wear them, to let the fabric brush against my skin, while a faint, almost imperceptible rebellion coils in my stomach, stopping me from giving in. Two opposing desires collide inside me, each fighting for dominance.
Sweat gathers along my spine, sending a cold shiver through me as the intensity grows.
