Page 54 of Guarded from Sabotage

“Oh, beautiful,” he groans, and in one fluid move, he lifts me into his arms. My legs instinctively go around his waist, and my arms twine around his neck. Dante dips his head and slants his mouth over mine; not a tender kiss this time, but a hungry one.

As we kiss—tongues plunging, exploring, stroking, teasing—my nipples go tight and a pulsing ache builds at my core. My body is on fire for him, my skin ultra sensitized, every inch of my body desperate for his touch.

Dante effortlessly holds me to him, one hand beneath my ass, the other at the nape of my neck, tipping my head back to takeour kiss even deeper. It’s only when I’m lightheaded from lack of air that I regretfully drag my lips from his.

“Are you okay?” he asks, eyeing me with open concern. “If you’re not ready?—”

“I am.” I lean in and kiss him again. “I just needed some air.” With a little grin, I add, “I’m not a super athlete like you.”

As the concern disappears, his lips lift into a tiny smirk. “Well. I guess we’ll have to see if all my workouts have paid off.” He lifts me higher in his arms and nuzzles my neck. “Starting by carrying you to the bedroom.”

As Dante carries me towards the bedroom, kissing me the entire way there, I’ve never felt sexier. More desired. More protected.

When Dante carefully lays me on his king-sized bed and stands back to gaze at me with an expression of wonder, I’ve never felt more cherished. Special.

Yes, there’s desire in his eyes, but it’s so much more than that. He looks at me like he can’t believe how lucky he is. His gaze is reverent as it sweeps over my body, regarding me like a masterpiece.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dante breathes. He’s still standing at the foot of the bed, fully clothed, staring at me. “I can’t get over it. How perfect you are.”

Insecurity comes sneaking back in. “I’m not.”

“Oh, Sarah. Yes, you are.” He pauses. “To me, you are perfect.”

Oh.

My heart.

It’s never felt this full before.

And with this burst of joy, my confidence comes flooding back. I prop myself up and pin Dante with my gaze. “Why don’t you let me see how perfect you are, too?”

He gives me a cocky smile. “You want me to take off my clothes?”

“Yes, please.”

“Oh, Sarah.” Softening, he adds, “Anything you want. Just ask, and I’ll give you anything.”

And then he pulls his shirt off, revealing a glorious display of golden muscles dusted with brown hair that trails down in a V to his waist.

Then Dante yanks off his shorts, and the question I’ve been wondering about is finally answered—his arousal is long and thick, jutting towards me, already leaking steadily.

My womb clenches.

Moisture dampens the fabric at the apex of my thighs.

I’ve never wanted a man more in my life.

“All my clothes are off,” Dante says. “Now. How about if I take yours off, like you asked me to?”

“Yes.” As he moves towards me, a Roman statue brought to life, his desire never more obvious, I whisper through a constricting chest, “Yes, please. I would love that.”

So he does, but it’s not what I was expecting.

Dante peels off my satin shorts and cami slowly, kissing each bit of skin as it’s revealed, lingering at my collarbone, my breasts, and my belly.

Then he goes lower, suckling and lapping and stroking, using his fingers and tongue to build the aching need stronger and stronger, until my hips are lifting towards him and my inner walls are quivering.

When I’m finally naked, Dante braces himself above me, his biceps and shoulders and chest muscles flexing, and I can’t help blurting out, “I didn’t think it was possible to have that many muscles.”

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