Page 69 of A Betrothal So Bloody

A toothy grin spreads across his face. As though unleashed, his hands move with more confident urgency. He pulls me to my feet and begins undressing me at once. He tugs at my sleeves first, then rips at the laces of my bodice. The pressure eases from around my torso, excited breaths coming freely.

“This damn thing,” he mutters, followed by the rip of fabric. In his haste, he’s torn the bodice in two.

“Eager, aren’t we?” I say with a breathless giggle.

“That’s too small a word.”

Satisfied, he pulls the ruined bodice down my legs. He settles on his knees and looks up at me slowly. I wet my lips, searching for air. I never expected this—for him to gaze up at me like I’m some goddess he’s been awaiting. He seems to have found the strength to test my patience now, unrushed as he slides the bodice down to my ankles.

He lifts my chemise skirt and caresses my leg—sliding his hands up my calves, my thighs—then presses a kiss tantalizingly close to the heat burning between my thighs.

Standing back to his full, towering height, he takes both my hands to hold me steady as I step out of the gown.

I spare a look at the destroyed puddle of fabric. “That was expensive, you know.”

He kicks the gown aside. “I’ll buy you hundreds more. Thousands.”

His eyes rove me up and down—and that is the only warning he gives before pouncing. In only my sleeveless chemise, he scoops me into his arms and slams me up against the window. The impact cracks the glass behind the curtains, delicious pain smarting through my back. As I gasp from the sting of it, his lips crush against my open mouth. I am weightless in his arms, my heart thundering a runaway rhythm. I wind my thighs around his waist, which rocks firmly against me like he’s already imagining that he’s inside me.

I have never felt so desired, have never wished to be consumed and to consume in return. I am insatiable.

I lower shaking hands to the belt cinching the tunic around his waist, fumbling with the metal buckle between kisses.

“This is a bad idea,” I pant.

“Terrible,” he agrees with a wicked grin.

Releasing my legs, I slide the leather belt free and let it fall to the ground with a thump.

Before I can undress him further, he’s on me again. He runs his hands up my arms, over my shoulders, savoring my bare skin—a foreign sensation that makes me teeter with pleasure. One hand reaches all the way up my back to knot itself in my hair and pull. The other hand cups my ass, giving it a squeeze.

Both sensations duel for my attention, make me squirm and whimper.

“You make the sweetest noises,” he murmurs. “So filthy coming from those innocent lips.” His half-lidded eyes search my face. “What sounds will you make, I wonder, when I push inside of you? I’ve imagined it. Being deprived of you has been agony.”

I sigh in agreement. “Please,” I whisper. “First let me—” I squirm out of his grasp and start to drop to my knees in front of him, fingertips skating down his sides—attempting to uphold a useless illusion that I know what I’m doing.

Dante gives a breathless chuckle. “I’m flattered, darling, but I’m not patient enough to wait a second longer.”

He bends to scoop me into his arms, and I only have time to gasp before he tosses me onto the mattress.

I prop myself up, watching as he peels off his tunic. Holding my breath, I drink in his bare torso without an ounce of shame. My stare lingers upon the bulge already pushing at his trousers.

My stomach flutters in anticipation. Tonight. Tonight I will know what it feels like.

I follow his lead and pull my chemise over my head, tossing aside my last bit of modesty over the side of the bed. My braid is already disheveled from our enthusiastism—a loose mockery of the style I’d woven that morning. I tug the ribbon free and work my fingers through my long hair, letting it rest in wild, tumbling locks just past my shoulders.

Dante’s breath catches when he sees my naked form, all his urgency coming to a momentary standstill. His eyes darken as he observes me—hungrier still and carrying fathomless depths of lust. A shiver of uncertainty races through me. Surely that look shouldn’t be reserved for the likes of me. Is he hiding disappointment?

But Dante leaves me no space to dwell on my question of adequacy.

He crawls over me on the bed with the grace of a prowling predator. He is upon me, dragging his mouth between my breasts before finding my lips again.

As he straddles me and I look up at his face, I can’t contain a soft burst of laughter. The last time I’d looked up at him like this, I’d been trying to drive a stake through his heart on the floor of my bedroom in the D’Agnosito villa.

“This view is familiar.”

He grins back. “Isn’t it?”