If I don’t get a grip, I’m going to throw her down on the bed and fuck her hard.And that’s not happening until my ring is on her finger.
Instead, I pretend to be unaffected.“Such a good girl.”
I release her and stride to the closet where I grab my silk robe.“I keep my word,” I say as I drape it over her shoulders.
Not looking at me, she slips her arms in, tying the belt loosely, but since it’s massive on her slight frame, the neck gapes just enough to tease me with glimpses of lace and skin.
She might be covered now, but she’s as affected by me as I am by her.She’s still vulnerable.And she’s still mine.
The sight of her, wearing my clothing, standing in place, wide-eyed, marked by my scent, stirs a primal reaction in me.It’s a possessiveness I never expected to feel this intensely.
She adjusts the collar, her fingers trembling slightly, and I can’t resist.I back her toward the bed, my hands on her hips, guiding her until the mattress hits the back of her knees.She sits, looking up at me with wide eyes, and I kneel between her legs, pushing the robe open wider.
“Moretti…” There’s a plea in her voice now, but I shake my head.
“Dante.”I press a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her quiver.“You’ll call me Dante.”
Frantically she shakes her head.“Not ever.”But her breath catches as I trail kisses higher, my fingers hooking into the edge of her panties.
I slide her panties down, exposing her, the scent of her arousal hitting me like a drug.
She’s wet, glistening, and I run a finger along her seam, feeling her slick heat coat my skin.
Softly she gasps, gripping the sheets hard, and I lean in, flicking out my tongue to taste her.
Goddamn.
She’s sweet and addictive, and she bucks against my mouth, whimpering softly.
“Moretti…”
I devour her, licking and sucking, holding her thighs apart as she writhes under me.
Every deliberate stroke of my tongue draws more moans from her as her body arches, the tension building in her muscles.
“I don’t want this.”Ineffectively she tries to push me away.
“No?”I press my finger to her clit.“You don’t wantthis?”
She lifts up, demanding more.
“Not from you.”
Now who’s the liar, Valentina?
No other woman has ever said this to me.And I make their hunger, their vocal approval, worth it with my touch.
If she were anyone else, I’d slide a finger inside her and get her off, generously, time and again until she could no longer remember her name.
But my future wife?
Maddening, infuriating woman.
Her mouth says one thing while her body says another.
And suddenly I want her desperate on our wedding night.
With determination I continue on, holding her labia apart, licking, sucking, teasing.
