My Dante is long. Deliciously thick. He's hard and flushed and leaking at the tip, and he's so much more than I expected. Fearand desire war in my chest, uncertainty making my cheeks flush hot.
He reads my expression and crosses to me, taking my hand. "Let me show you. There’s nothing to fear, my sweet jungle flower."
I let him guide my fingers to his shaft, let him wrap my hand around his silken heat. He's hard as steel beneath that smooth skin, pulsing with need, and when I stroke experimentally, he groans like I've wounded him.
"You're so beautiful," I whisper, looking up at him through my lashes. "All of you."
He traces the line of my jaw, then moves his hand to the back of my head. His silent instruction is clear, and I follow willingly, leaning forward until my lips brush the weeping tip of his cock.
"Open for me." His voice has gone rough, the control finally cracking. "Let me feel those gorgeous lips wrapped around me."
I part my lips and take him in, inch by inch, tasting salt and musk and something uniquely him. He's too big to take fully, but I try, swallowing around him as he hits the back of my throat.
The sound he makes is barely human.
"Swallow as I push deeper." His fingers tighten in my hair. "Let me feel you take as much of me as you can."
I grip his bare, muscular thighs and sink lower, breathing through my nose, relaxing my throat the way instinct tells me to. When I bite down gently, his cock pulses against my tongue.
"Fuck, jungle flower. Do that again. Just like that."
I obey, biting and sinking and swallowing, and his hips begin to rock in small thrusts. The taste of his precum floods my mouth, forbidden and addictive, and I want more.
His hand wraps around my throat, not squeezing, just holding. Controlling. And the dizzying rush of submission makes me moan around his length.
He pulls back with a growl, his cock slipping from my lips. "I don't want to come in your mouth." His chest heaves, his eyes wild. "I want to feel that perfect pussy clamping around me when I finally let go."
The crude words should shock me. Instead, they make my empty core clench with desperate need.
He reaches up and tears off his mask, tossing it aside, and for the first time, I see his full face. I take in his strong features, the beard I've been feeling against my skin, eyes so dark they swallow the red light, gold flickering at their edges. They burn with a hunger that mirrors my own.
"Now you," he says. He moves with a predator's grace, every muscle in his thighs and core rippling beneath inked skin as he moves toward the cascading shower. I watch the panther on his back shift and prowl with each step, watch the way his shoulders roll and his long dark hair sways against his spine.
He wets a small cloth beneath the warm spray and wrings it out, the tendons in his forearms flexing with the simple movement. When he turns back to me, water droplets glisten on his chest like scattered diamonds, and his eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
He crosses back to the bed, unhurried, letting me drink in every inch of him. Then he kneels before me and cradles my jaw in onelarge hand while the other gently strokes the warm cloth over my face, wiping away leaves and flowers with tender, reverent passes until there's nothing left to hide behind.
For a moment, we just look at each other, bare-faced and vulnerable.
“There you are," he murmurs, studying my bare face with an intensity that makes my chest ache. "There's my jungle flower.”
I fall back against the black silk covering the large bed in the middle of the room as he covers my body with his. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress is grounding, intoxicating, and I spread my thighs wider in invitation.
My heel catches on the silk sheets and I reach down to unbuckle the straps of my stilettos, suddenly aware of how ridiculous I must look still wearing my shoes.
His hand catches my wrist before I can reach the clasp. "Leave them on."
I blink up at him. "But they're?—"
"—sexy as fuck," he cuts in. His eyes rake down my body, lingering on my legs, and the raw hunger in his gaze makes my skin flush hot. "I want to feel them digging into my back when I'm buried inside you."
Oh.
Oh.
I let my hand fall away from the strap, and his smile turns wolfish.
He reaches between us, gripping his thick shaft, and drags the swollen head through my slick folds and I forget all about my shoes.
