My awareness boils down to my desire to get closer.
To the feel of my fingers still twisted in his shirt. The gasp that floods my veins with oxygen after he pinches my bottom lip between his teeth. The pulse of heat when he tangles his tongue with mine.
To the craving that fills my core.
A craving for more of his filthy kisses. A craving to satisfy my curiosity about what level he’s on when it comes to sex.
Liam never made me feel this way—ravenous, bold, out of my mind. Dante can piss me off in under a minute, but his arrogance and domineering attitude is definitely not a turn-off.
I’m greedy for his scowls, for the angry glare of his dark eyes staring back at me. His attention is a high I never expected and I want to revel in it for as long as I can.
“That’s enough, princess,” he scolds, pulling his mouth away as I let out a soft whimper. There’s no animosity in the words, more of a soft warning. As though he’s making sure I understand what will happen if I don’t obey his cautionary words.
But I understand more than enough.
I understand what I want. What I’m asking.
So, I don’t stop.
Instead, I mimic his actions and do to him everything he’s done to me. We’re on an uncharted course of licks, kisses, and small bites and it’s glorious.
Intoxicating.
And maybe Dante was right.
I couldn’t keep up with his ass if I tried.
24
DANTE
I know exactly what I’m doing.
And I can’t seem to bring myself to care.
I’m married. I have a wife. She’s the woman lying in my bed, wrapped up in the sheets with me, as fuckable as she’s ever been.
Victoria is a pain in my ass but I won’t let her be a complication.
I just hope she understands. Like I keep telling her, once this mess with Lombardi is done, so are we.
She’s not going to remain my wife. I swore that shit off years ago and breaking that oath to myself isn’t the least bit appealing.
But the feel of Victoria’s soft lips tangling with mine is enough to make me harder than I’ve ever been.
It was bad enough knowing she trusted me. She’s definitely terrified of what’s to come, but if it all works out the way it should, she’ll be fine and in Paris within the next thirty days.
If not, it means I’ve failed. And I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon. She deserves to live her little dream in Paris, spending her early mornings at her bakery and her afternoons sipping a latte or visiting the Louvre, doing whatever else girls do in the heart of France.
I’m sure shopping comes into it at some point.
“That’s enough, princess.”
Yeah, that was supposed to come out more authoritative, but when the tip of her tongue touched mine… Fuck. I’m starting to lose control, getting lost in the heat of lust, just like I did with my ex.
I promised myself I’d never fall down that rabbit hole again, and I’m not about to break it.
Whatever little experiment Victoria is trying to work through, I can assure her it won’t result in love or a five-year anniversary.