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“Do you know how I take my coffee now?”
The fog of arousal clears instantly, replaced by a dawning horror. My eyes snap open and I push against his chest. I look over at the empty table sporting half-eaten, abandoned food, then drop my head onto his shoulder.
“Oh God, Dante, that was so bad. Just take me back to the basement already.”
Dante chuckles. “Trust me, we’re good. Nico and Sophie are worse.”
“You’re joking!” My cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.
“Afraid not.”
“What kind of people are you?”
Dante’s lips curl into a devilish smirk. “Sometimes we don’t always use words to get our points across.”
“And what was the point here?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, my slightly-damp curls cascading over my shoulder.
“That they needed to quit with the sham breakfast, get lost, and let me talk to my woman alone,” he replies, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my thighs while his other hand trails up my neck until his fingers spear into my hair, massaging my scalp gently. I suppress the purr working its way up my throat.
“Well, I’m here now, so use your words,” I say, throwing his words from last night back at him.
His grin is a flash of white teeth and dimpled cheeks. “It’s so fucking hot when you do that, you know? “Anyway,” Dante’s gaze drops to the bruises closest to my core, his fingers ghosting over the tender skin. “Do I need to apologize?”
“No,” I admit, my breath catching. “I–ah. I liked it. Is that the worst . . .” I trail off, struggling to find the words. “Is there more where that came from?”
Dante’s eyebrows arch in surprise. “You want more?”
I shrug. “I dunno. Maybe?”
Now his eyes are popping, his jaw slackening in disbelief. I notice how his nostrils are flaring, too, and the very slight flush staining his neck.
“Do you enjoy being hurt?”
“It didn’t hurt, Dante—” I start, but he cuts me off, his grip on my thighs tightening.
“It fucking will if you want more.”
“I mean, yes, it hurt a little in the moment, but there was so much—” I try to explain, but words fail me.
“Reward?” he finishes. His pupils dilate, the rim of irises around them becoming lighter than their usual stormy gray. I feel the tremor in the hand he has on my thigh and the way his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.
My core tightens, need shooting through me again. I nod, my eyes locked on his. “Yes, it’s . . . very rewarding.”
“Addy.” His hand comes up to cup my face, his touch gentle, a stark contrast to the fingers tightening on my thigh. “You like pain.”
“No, Dante. I like this.” I take his shaking hand in mine and raise it between us, my eyes never leaving his. “I like you. Trembling. Uncontrolled. I like the way you get overcome with what you’re feeling. Your raw emotions . . . they’re intoxicating. And I feel like I don’t see them enough.”
“Addy, you saw me two years ago in that restaurant and ran away,” he reminds me, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes searching mine.
“I didn’t understand what I felt back then. You were always so controlled, and you suddenly transformed, and I was shocked and horrified. But mostly, I was sickened by the fact that I wanted you more in that moment than ever.” The words tumble from my lips in a rush, my heart laid bare before him.
A low, humorless chuckle rumbles in Dante’s chest and the sound vibrates through me. He takes a couple of steps away from me and turns around, his fingers running through his head and grabbing hold. The muscles of his back tense under his shirt. “Christ, I am so fucked.”
He takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, then his shoulders sag with the release of air. He does this a few more times while I watch in fascination. By the time he returns to me, his hands have stopped shaking, his eyes are clear and focused, the storm within him temporarily quelled.
“Alright, Addy. Duly noted,” he says in a steady, almost brusque tone. “Now, about this morning with Mother and Sophie . . .”
It dawns on me as he changes the subject that, for some reason, Dante needs to be in control of his emotions, to erect a fortress against the turmoil within. “What about them?” I reply.
