Page 68 of The Contract

“Gladly.”

Dante grumbles and starts walking. I know I should be embarrassed to be carried like this. I should be embarrassed by the way Kenzie saw me. Heard me. Later, maybe I will be. Right now, I’m just so fucking relieved to have him. Oh, I know it’s fucked up. I’m well aware.

He did this to me, made me spend all day craving sex, craving him. It took Kenzie a while to notice. It took her longer to get the truth out of me. At first, she even thought it was funny. Apparently, her babysitting didn’t come with instructions. I could’ve slipped into the bathroom at the theatre and jacked off.

The thing is, it wouldn’t have helped. Ah, fuck, that’s not even the real problem.

I wanted this. The torment—and the relief that I know will follow. I want the moment when this is worth it, when Dante takes me over, takes me out of myself, makes everything so intensely real.

Like I said, I know it’s fucked up.

But god, it feels good to have Dante carry me into the elevator, to have his undivided attention. I didn’t have it when we were in his office. I can tell the difference.

He was distracted. He was upset. He’s good at covering it, burying it all under a burning intensity that comes off as aggression. Itisaggression, but it’s more complicated than that.

His cheek is pressed against my head. He’s breathing hard enough that I know he’s turned on. All he wants right now is me.

I have never, ever been wanted like this. I’ve never been seen so fully, so clearly, not even by my own self. I had no idea what I needed until Dante gave it to me.

He carries me out of the elevator and down the hallway to his door. He manages to enter his code and get the door open without putting me down.

As we move through the apartment, I expect him to carry me to the play room, but he carries me upstairs to the bedroom. He sits down on the bed, cradling me in his lap. I’m making little sounds that should embarrass me but don’t. The plug is pressing deep inside, but what has me so hungry and needy is Dante’s presence. His body, with his cock hard under me. His intensity. The unspoken promise that I’ll get to come. I don’t want to, not yet. I want everything that comes before it. Usually, I fight him on it. It’s partly instinct. It’s partly release. Right now, however, I have no fight in me.

Maybe it’s because he kissed me last night.

I’d never been kissed before. Even in my past experiences, I never kissed. I’m not sure why. I just never felt the desire. Butwhen Dante kissed me, the world exploded. Or something inside me did.

I had no idea it could feel like that.

Dante rubs one of my nipples through my t-shirt. I press into the touch.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs into my hair.

I love you, I almost say. Do I? Is this love? What the hell is love anyway?

I don’t say any of that. Instead I whisper, “I need you.”

“I know.” He rubs my other nipple. “I’m here. I’m going to take care of you.”

Part of me understands that he means,I’m going to make you come, but part of me feels like he means something more. I’ve spent most of my life, all sixteen years since Evan vanished, learning how to take care of myself, teaching myself to not need anyone.

The thing is, to survive, Idon’tneed anyone. But it’s not enough anymore to just survive. It’s not enough anymore to put on an act and navigate the world while feeling removed from it.

I needthis.

I needhim.

He pushes my shirt up. My skin is so sensitized that goosebumps break out as his fingertips explore my contracting abdomen.

When he unbuttons my jeans, I tilt my face up and nuzzle at his throat. He starts breathing harder. He drags my zipper down, and I moan at the pressure against my aching cock. When my fly is open, he rubs me through my briefs. They’re wet with precum.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes as his fingers find the wetness. His hips shift as he seeks friction against my ass. We both moan as his erection grinds against me.

“I thought about you all day,” he says. “I imagined that plug inside you, pressing against your sweet spot, making you hardfor me. I imagined your cock dripping as you waited for me. Did you imagine me inside you?”

“Yes,” I breathe against his throat. “I imagined you stretching me. Fucking me. Coming inside me.”

His groan is loud and ragged, and I find myself suddenly on my back on the bed as he hurriedly removes my shoes and socks. He kicks off his own and rips off his shirt. Literally rips it off; I hear the cloth tearing.

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