I'm dying here. He's going so slow and I want hard and dirty. I don't want slow. I don't want sweet. I want him to fuck me. I want to come. I want to know I can feel that with someone other than— "Please," I beg.
"What do you want, darling?"
"I need you to move."
So he does, but it's slow again, and I'm frustrated.
"Dante," I say as I reach up to hold his face in my hands.
"Mmm," he replies.
"Faster. I want it fast."
"You want me to fuck you?" he probes with a devilish grin as he continues his slow but deep thrusts—driving me insane.
"Yes. Ineedyou to fuck me hard," I mewl, all but begging.
He winks at me. "You only need to tell me and I will give you anything you want."
He lifts one of my legs over his hip and begins a hard, steady rhythm. He gets so deep and it feels so good, I lift the other leg and lock them behind his back, arching my back, lifting my hips to meet him in the middle.
"Oh, yes," I moan when he thrusts hard and begins moving faster. "Just like that, please…"
Nonsensical things fly from my mouth, begging, pleading for him to give me the orgasm I'm chasing but is just out of reach.
"Not yet. It's too good and I don't want it to end yet."
"Dante…"
We move and moan and sweat and pant and fuck like it's the last time we'll ever be able to fuck anyone again. It's a hard, pounding rhythm now, one that sends the sparks to a steady, increasing burn.
"Oh, God. Please," I beg.
"You're so wet and hot—so tight. Mmm, Tera you're magnificent."
"I need to come, Dante. Please make me come."
He doesn't hesitate. He shifts us, just a little, but it's everything. It gives me what I couldn't get…
"Oh yes, yes, yes," I cry out as the orgasm nears.
He leans down and sucks on my nipple, then bites the tip gently between his teeth. That's it. I explode, like, major detonation.
"Yes!" I moan as the orgasm barrels through me, wicked and hot and sharp, almost painful.
He groans over me, his body shuddering, his breath stuttering out as he comes.
I can't watch him come. I don't know why. I just can't.
When he stills, he rolls us to our side, giving this an air of intimacy I don't want to experience. I lean back, lift my hands to push my hair out of my face, looking everywhere but at him. I know he knows what I'm doing. I know he's watching me. I just don't know what to do next.
He fixes that problem for me. He slips out of me and out of the bed toward the bathroom. "I'll be right back."
I merely nod as I roll to my back, slipping under the covers and pulling them up to my chest. I stare at the ceiling.
I can't believe I just slept with someone who isn't Xander. I close my eyes and fight back the tears, but they slip out anyway. I can't stop them no matter how hard I try, so I give up and let them fall.
Dante must have anticipated this because, when he comes back from the bathroom, he's carrying a box of tissues. He pulls a couple free and hands them to me, taking one for himself to wipe my tear-stained cheeks.
