Page 59 of Ivory Crown

He smirked. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be watching you all day.”

I felt my cheeks redden. “That wasn’t really what I was worried about.”

His hand, warm and steady, moved up to my wrist, the delicate bones providing a stark contrast to his masculine strength. With his thumb, he traced tiny circles on my skin, sending waves of strange shivers up my arm. The room seemed to shrink around us—no, it seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of us and the sound of our beating hearts.

“There’s no need to bother your pretty head about what comes next.” His voice was low and husky, each word laden with an unspoken promise of protection...and something else. It was a voice that I found both reassuring and disquieting.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked. He was standing there stark fucking naked and the breeze had a sharp bite to it. But Dante, standing tall and unflinching, seemed utterly impervious to the cold. He threw me a lopsided grin that was almost boyish in its charm.

“Cold?” He glanced at his bare body, as though noticing his undressed state for the first time. “I guess I hadn’t noticed.”

He moved closer, until his heat seeped into my skin. I didn’t retreat. Couldn’t. My back pressed against the cold railing of the balcony, while my front...well, my front was graced by Dante’s naked form. It was almost comical, the absurdity of it all.

“You have no idea what you have started,” Dante whispered softly into my ear. The hot puff of his breath sent a shiver skittering down my spine.

I shook my head in denial. “I didn’t start anything.”

“Didn’t you?” He chuckled darkly, a menacing shadow cast by his towering figure blocking out the city lights below.

I felt a sudden surge of defiance well up within me. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” I spat.

“Funny to think you’re going to be begging for more in a couple of hours,” he said.

I had no idea what to say to that, but it was really difficult to keep looking into his eyes as he spoke. “Are you getting hard?”

“You could be looking at my face,” he said. “But you’re not so…”

My cheeks flushed, embarrassment mingling with a sudden rush of desire. It was ridiculous, the effect he had on me. But there we were, two bodies caught on a precipice, teetering on the brink of something neither one of us fully comprehended.

And then, without warning, he pulled me into his arms. His hold was firm, yet gentle, as if he was afraid I might shatter in his grasp. His lips hovered dangerously close to mine, his smoky gaze never leaving my own.

“Dante,” I whispered, my breath hitching as the tip of his nose brushed against mine. His name tasted foreign on my tongue, exotic and intoxicating.

“Shh,” he hushed me, his thumb tracing the outline of my trembling lips. The sensation coursed through me like a bolt of electricity, igniting an unfamiliar desire within the pit of my stomach.

And before I could protest or pull away or even think coherently, his lips crashed onto mine. His kiss was demanding yet tender, his tongue exploring the recesses of my mouth in a way that set my nerves on fire. It’s as if he already knew every part of me...and wanted more.

“I want you to know that I would never hurt you,” he said. “But I need to make sure that you understand that you can’t just up and leave.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest like a trapped bird seeking escape. I knew his words were a warning, a promise of sorts. And somehow, it didn’t terrify me as much as it should have. Instead, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. The chaos that had swirled around us seemed to quell in the face of his sincerity.

“I know,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at me for what seemed like an eternity, studying my features as if searching for some hidden meaning in my response. It was disconcerting to be under such intense scrutiny, but I held his gaze. There was something reassuring in the depth of his dark eyes – a promise of protection perhaps, or was it possession?

“See, I hear you say that,” he said. “But there’s no way for me to know if you’re fucking with me. So I’m still going to have to tie you up.”

I swallowed. “Is this strictly necessary?”

“Come on,” he said, his grip on my waist tightening a little. “Don’t pretend you don’t want to find out what happens. I can smell how wet you are.”

My face burned at his audacious statement. I wanted to deny it, to lash out at his assumption, but the traitorous heat between my legs did nothing to support my defense.

“I-” I began, but he cut me off, bringing a finger to my lips.

“Shh,” he said softly, “you don’t have to say anything. Not yet.”

His hand left my waist and moved to my hair. He wound a stray lock around his finger before tucking it behind my ear. The simple gesture held an intimacy that made my heart flutter, and I couldn’t help but lean into the warmth of his touch.

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