I lift my head abruptly.
“Do you… do you have a condom?”
He looks at me, confused.
“What?"
Then I watch the exact moment he understands what I’m asking.
We never used condoms with each other.
But that was before.
Before Bianca.
A shadow moves through his eyes.
“I always used condoms with her,” he says softly.
The relief that washes over me is stronger than I’d like to admit.
And with it comes a bittersweet truth: he shared an intimacy with Bianca, even if it was nothing like the one he and I had built together.
He moves toward me slowly and captures my lips with infinite gentleness.
“You’re the only one I’m capable of trusting completely.”
His lips cover my face in soft kisses, each one easing the still-raw wound inside me a little more.
Slowly, I kiss him back.
The warmth between us returns—unhurried, fragile, but real.
As if moved by a will of its own, my hand begins to wander.
I trail back down to him, stroking slowly, my hand moving up and down his length. Then impatience gets the better of me and I lower myself to meet him. He shudders in anticipation. My tongue darts out and brushes the bead of moisture gathered at his tip.
Dante lets out a low, ragged groan.
“You’re going to destroy me,” he rasps.
I take in his face—that pure, unguarded vulnerability.
I keep up my slow torment, dragging my tongue along his full length before my lips close entirely around him, taking him deeper and deeper until he hits the back of my throat.
A groan tears from him.
My mouth slides along his shaft, back and forth, deliberately slow. My hands grip his ass as a familiar heat builds between my thighs.
He’s the one driving me crazy.
He has no idea how desirable he is.
He watches, transfixed, as I take him in and out of my mouth—reclaiming his body the way he reclaims mine.
Bianca’s shadow is still there. Painful. But we’re both determined to erase it.
Dante’s breathing grows shallow. He’s already on the edge—he wants to pull back but I don’t give him the chance. His body shudders.