Page 31 of Ivory Crown

“So…this is what you want?” I asked, breath hitching as his fingers slid under the hem of my skirt, effectively beginning their torturous ascent.

“Yes. I always want you. More than you know,” Dante murmured, his voice low and husky in my ear. His hand traveled higher, bunching the fabric of my dress with it until he reached the flimsy barrier of my panties.

With a dexterity that spoke of experience, he slipped them off me, and a bolt of excitement shot through my core. The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with our mutual desire.

Dante’s lips curved into a knowing smile as he looked down at me. “I can tell you’re addicted to coming for me now,” he said, his thumb grazing my skin in a way that sent shivers down my spine.

“I wouldn’t say I’m addicted.”

“Alright. Then I’ll have to keep doing it until you are.”

I looked up at him, searching his gaze. “I thought you were going to let me have a break tonight.”

He moved his hand away. “Okay. You want a break, you get a break.”

The abrupt halt of his touch left me aching, my skin pulsing with a need I’d never experienced before. For a moment, we stayed that way, both of us breathing heavily, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. Then Dante’s gaze met mine, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes.

“You’re not going to beg?” he asked, feigning innocence. His hand rested on my thigh, the heat of it seeping through the fabric of my dress.

“No,” I replied defiantly, even as my body screamed otherwise. But Dante only chuckled lowly, the sound sending tremors through me.

“Now that’s a shame,” he said, then grabbed my panties from the floor, dangling them in front of my face. “If you want a break, I’ll just touch myself and come on these.”

Before I could even begin to process the implications of his words, Dante was already moving, his broad, well-defined shoulders flexing as he reached down to unzip his pants. My heart thrummed against my ribs as I watched him in a combination of disbelief and arousal. He glanced at me, eyes glittering with a smug satisfaction, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“But...that’s...” I stammered, my mind racing to catch up with the situation.

“You can leave,” he said. “This is my bedroom. Or you can stay and watch and not touch yourself. Whatever you want to do.”

Fuck. Fuck.

My mind screamed at me to stop this madness, but my body...my body was a traitor. Slowly, I shook my head, no words willing to pass my lips. Dante’s smile grew wider, the smug satisfaction in his gaze making my skin prickle with a mix of indignation and desire.

He stretched out on the bed, propped against the pillows, his fingers working at the buckle of his belt with a nonchalance that belied the heavy tension in the air. His other hand held my panties, still clutched tightly as though they were some sort of trophy.

I sat there like a statue, watching as he released himself from the confines of his pants with a sigh of relief. My breath hitched as he wrapped my panties around his length, his low groan echoing in the room.

What I thought would be a moment of temporary insanity stretched on, each second dragging out into an eternity as Dante pleasured himself with a slow, languid grace that drove me mad. His hand moved in a steady rhythm, my panties wrapped tightly around him, the fabric darkening with his arousal.

Each slide of his hand sent another wave of heat curling through the pit of my stomach, the ache between my thighs growing more insistent with every passing second. His low moans filled the room, lacing the air with a raw sexual energy that seemed to cling to my skin, pulling me in deeper with each passing moment.

“And here I thought you didn’t want to watch,” Dante taunted, his voice strained but smug. “Don’t worry, Jade. I’ll put on a good show for you.”

I watched in a daze as his hand sped up, the rhythm erratic and frenzied. His eyes were locked onto mine, the heat of his gaze burning into my skin. A low groan rumbled from him, echoing around the silent room and sending a new wave of heat coursing through me.

“Do you have another pair of dirty panties somewhere? I want to smell you as I come,” he said.

The audacity of his request made my jaw drop, a rush of heat flooding my cheeks. My heart thundered in my chest as I considered his words, a part of me shocked and yet another part...intrigued.

“Wait,” he said. “Just straddle my face. I won’t touch you. I won’t lick you. I just want to smell you as I come.”

I stood up abruptly, my heart pounding in my chest. He was pushing me, taunting me with his words, and daring me to break. I didn’t know whether to be furious or aroused. Probably both. But there was a part of me—a reckless, daring part—that wanted to give into his wicked game.

“Jade?” Dante’s voice echoed through the room. His breathing was harsh and erratic, the tension from his arousal palatable in the air around us.

Without a word, I moved on shaky legs toward him, each step bolder than the one before. Determination surged through my veins as I climbed onto the bed and positioned myself above him, straddling his chest.

His eyes darkened with lust as he looked up at me, hands reaching out to rest on my thighs. His touch burnt through the fabric of my dress, searing into my skin.

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