"I can." I reached out, my hand finding the curve of her jaw. Her skin was warm. Alive. "I did. I will. Again and again until you understand that every breath you take is mine to protect. Every choice you make is yours, but you belong to me."
"That's not—" Her voice broke. "That's not fair."
"No," I agreed. "It's not." It wasn’t as if I had a choice, either; because Vince was right. The smart thing, the strategic thing, would be to let her go. And I couldn’t.
She looked at my hand like she was deciding whether to pull away. The moment stretched. Became everything. In that second, I would have accepted her rejection. Would have stepped back and kept my distance and slowly died from the proximity of having her so close and unable to touch her the way I needed to.
Instead, she leaned into my palm.
The action was so simple, so absolute in its surrender, that something in my chest cracked open.
I moved before she could change her mind. My other hand found the back of her neck, tilted her face up, and I kissed her like I'd been dying to do since the moment I saw her at that gala three months ago. Like I'd been holding back a hurricane and someone had finally opened the floodgates.
She gasped into my mouth.
I swallowed the sound, deepened the kiss, pulled her closer until there was no space between us. Her hands found my chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt like she needed an anchor. I could feel her heartbeat racing against mine.
When I finally broke away, we were both breathing hard.
"Tell me to stop," I said against her mouth. "Tell me right now, and I will."
She didn't.
Instead, she kissed me again. Harder this time. Desperate. Her hands moved up to my neck, her fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer. She kissed me like she was starving and I was the only thing that could sustain her.
I walked her backward without breaking contact, not stopping until her back hit the wall beside the doorway. The impact barely registered—all my attention was on her, on the way she was kissing me back with an intensity that matched my own, on the small sounds she made in the back of her throat that went straight to my cock.
"Dante—" she breathed against my neck.
"I know," I said. My hands moved to the hem of her shirt, and she didn't stop me. I pulled it over her head in one motion, tossed it aside, and took a moment to just look at her. At the rise and fall of her chest.At the way her breasts moved beneath the simple white bra she wore. At the intensity in her eyes as she watched me.
She reached for the buttons of my shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly as she worked them open. I let her set the pace, let her undress me piece by piece, watching the way her breath hitched each time more of my skin was revealed to her.
When my shirt hit the floor, she pressed her palms flat against my chest. I could feel her trembling.
"You're sure?" I asked, needing to hear it from her.
"No," she said. And then, softer: "Yes. I'm sure."
I unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, then picked her up. Her legs wrapped around my waist instinctively, and I carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.
I laid her on the bed carefully, like she might shatter if I wasn't gentle enough. She pulled me down to her, and I settled between her thighs, groaning at the feel of her skin against mine.
"I need you," she whispered against my shoulder. "I need—"
I silenced her with another kiss, my hands moving to the waistband of her pants. She lifted her hips so I could pull them down, along with her panties, until she was completely bare beneath me.
For a moment, I just looked at her. At the woman I'd been obsessed with for months. At the woman who was now mine in every way that mattered.
"You're beautiful," I said.
She reached for my pants, and I stood long enough to remove them, along with my briefs. When I came back to her, she was watching me with dark eyes that were equal parts fear and hunger.
I positioned myself at her entrance, my jaw clenching with the effort of holding back.
"Look at me," I commanded softly.
She did. Her eyes locked on mine as I pushed inside her slowly, watching her face contort with the stretch of it. She was tight, and warm, and everything I'd imagined and nothing I could have prepared myself for.
