Page 84 of Vow Of Fire

Speaking of…

Dante moved again, his arm traveling upwards from my waist to my chest. I quietly gasped as his hand found my breast. Turning my head to see whether he was awake or not, I found those steel eyes settling on me.

Yeah. He was very much awake.

“Hi,” I whispered, wondering how the hell to handle this situation. I couldn’t very well act as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn’t had the best sex of my life last night. But I’d be damned if I was going to swoon and feed his overinflated ego either.

He made a sound low in his throat that sounded like something between a growl and a groan, before rolling over and driving me back into the mattress beneath him.

His weight settled between my thighs, heavy and erotic. One hand slid up my arm, then the other, until he’d pinned both my wrists above my head. His fingers threaded through mine and tightened, holding me there as he stared down at me, leaving me in no doubt as to his intentions.

The gesture should have been possessive and controlling, but the surge of anticipation I felt overpowered all that. I loved seeing the fire in his eyes, such a change from the anger he usually displayed. I loved giving him this control, knowing that he needed me. That he desired me.

The one thing he couldn’t hide was his reaction. His body betrayed him.

Wordlessly, he bent his head and his lips claimed mine. Hard, hungry, and a little bit desperate, he kissed me like we hadn’t been locked together for most of the night.

I felt his body press into mine. Our fingers interlocked as he pinned my hands to the pillow. His chest crushed my breasts, his chest hair teasing my nipples as it brushed against them. The friction alone was enough to pebble them into hard peaks.

The weight of his torso was too heavy to be comforting, the hard lines reminding me how robust and male he was. His hips settled between my thighs and I felt the thick length of him already nudging against the ache between my legs.

With a soft moan, I parted my thighs and curled my calves around his. We were tangled together completely now. Chest to chest. Mouth to mouth. Skin to skin.

His tongue slid deep into my mouth and I kissed him back hungrily. I wanted more of it. More of him.

“Got to have you again,” he growled against my ear, tearing his mouth from mine. Already, he was reaching for his wallet. We were both breathing hard. “One last time.”

I wanted that too. Even knowing we had to leave the cabin at first light. Even knowing dangerous men were hunting me. None of it seemed real when he touched me like this. Right now, there was only Dante and the dizzying, intoxicating memory of how good it felt when he was inside of me.

And worst of all, how right it felt.

“One last time,” I agreed as he pulled on the condom.

His eyes locked on mine as his hand slid between us, lining himself up at my needy entrance. For one suspended moment he froze there, eyes blazing into mine, breathing rough and uneven.

Then, he pushed inside me.

The stretch of him stole the breath from my lungs. My fingers tightened instinctively around his as a broken moan escaped from my lips. He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching hard, our combined pulse throbbing beneath my fingertips.

I realized this was affecting him every bit as much as it was affecting me.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered hoarsely.

He sank deeper, inch by magnificent inch, until there was nowhere left for him to go. He filled me completely, anchoring me to him.

I could feel his heart hammering, or perhaps that was mine. I couldn’t be sure.

For a moment neither of us moved. We just stayed there, tangled together, breathing the same air, staring at each other like something irreversible had just happened between us. Maybe it had.

Then I lifted my hips beneath him. That tiny movement tore a rough growl from his throat, and he lowered his head and kissed me hard as he started to move.

Every thrust was deep and deliberate, like he was trying to carve himself into me permanently, but there was desperation underneath it now too. A need.

I matched him instinctively, my body arching against his as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in my stomach. The room filled with the sound of our breathing, the creak of the bed beneath us, the low growl he made whenever I clenched around him.

He buried his face against my throat for a second, his grip on my hands tightening almost painfully.

“Look at what you do to me,” he rasped, as if this was all my fault.