Page 114 of Made for Saints

The leather leggings hugged my legs like a second skin, the glossy material catching the faint light of my vanity as I turned to inspect myself in the mirror. The champagne-colored silk top draped low in the front, the fabric whispering against myskin with every movement. It was elegant, daring, and just the right amount of provocative. Exactly what Dante would want.

I slipped on a pair of heeled boots, the sharp click of the soles against the floor grounding me as I grabbed a small clutch and headed for the door. My heart was racing, a mix of nerves and anticipation coursing through me as I made my way to the spot where I always met my Ubers.

The night air was cool against my skin, the faint hum of the city wrapping around me as I stood beneath the streetlamp. The glow cast a soft halo around me, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was stepping into a different world—a world where Dante Conti pulled the strings and I was just a willing marionette.

A sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and before I could take a step forward, the door swung open. Dante emerged, his presence commanding as always. He was dressed in all black, his tailored jacket fitting him like a glove, the open collar of his shirt revealing a hint of tanned skin. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and the intensity in his gaze made my breath hitch.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. “Come here.”

I didn’t hesitate. I barely had a chance to take a step before he closed the distance between us, his hands gripping my waist as he pulled me flush against him. His lips crashed into mine, fierce and consuming, and I felt myself melt into him, my hands clutching at the lapels of his jacket as his tongue teased the seam of my lips.

He pressed me back against the car, his body pinning mine as his hands roamed over my hips, his touch firm and possessive. “You look good enough to eat,” he growled against my lips, his voice rough with desire.

The memory of his words—of the way he’d devoured me at his apartment—flashed through my mind, and a soft moan escaped me as his lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. I could feel the hard length of him pressing against me, a silent promise of what was to come,but before I could lose myself completely, he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

His dark eyes bored into mine as though he was searching for something—something only I could give him. My chest rose and fell in time with his, my lips tingling from the force of his kiss, and I could still feel the ghost of his fingers gripping my waist, searing through the silk of my top. Every nerve in my body was alight, and yet, somehow, I craved more.

“Get in the car,” he commanded, as he stepped back and held the door for me, his voice low and rough, the timber of it sending a shiver down my spine.

I hesitated for only a fraction of a second, my mind still spinning from the kiss, as he gestured for me to get inside. His gaze never wavered, sharp and unrelenting, and I knew there was no denying him—not when my body was already betraying me, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

The interior of the car was dark, the faint scent of leather and his cologne wrapping around me as I slid into the back seat. He followed close behind, the door shutting with a quiet thunk that seemed to echo in the confined space.

Before I could even process the change of setting, Dante was on me again, his hand gripping the back of my neck as he pulled me toward him. His lips crashed into mine with a ferocity that left me breathless, his other hand finding my thigh and sliding upward, his touch igniting sparks along my skin.

“You drive me fucking insane, Emilia,” he growled against my mouth, his voice thick with frustration and desire. “Do you know that?”

I barely managed a response, my fingers tangling in his hair as I kissed him back with equal fervor. His words sent a thrill through me, a dangerous pleasure curling low in my stomach as his hand slipped beneath the hem of my top, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my waist.

“Dante,” I gasped, pulling back just enough to look at him. His face was inches from mine, his expression raw andunguarded in a way I wasn’t used to seeing. His usual mask of control had slipped, and what lay beneath was a storm barely contained—a mix of passion, possessiveness, and something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to name.

“What is it, princess?” he murmured, his thumb brushing against the side of my neck, sending a jolt of heat through me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words got caught in my throat. What could I say? That he made me feel alive in a way no one else ever had? That I felt like I was teetering on the edge of something dangerous and exhilarating, and I didn’t want to stop?

Instead, I pulled him back to me, my lips capturing his in a kiss that was just as desperate as the one before. His hands found my hips, lifting me effortlessly as if I weighed nothing, and before I knew it, I was straddling him, my legs wrapping around his waist as he settled back against the seat.

The position was intimate, almost too intimate, and my heart pounded in my chest as I felt the hard press of his body beneath me. His hands gripped my thighs, his fingers digging into the leather of my leggings as his lips moved against mine, demanding and insistent.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, his breath hot against my cheek as his lips trailed down my jaw. “Every time I see you, I want to tear off every piece of clothing and make you mine.”

His words sent a shiver through me, and I tilted my head back as his lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear. My hands clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into the fabric of his jacket as a soft moan escaped me.

Dante pulled back, his breathing ragged, his hands still gripping my hips like he was anchoring himself to me. His forehead pressed against mine, and I could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in his body coiled so tightly it felt like it might snap.

“Not here,” he murmured, his voice low and strained, like it physically pained him to stop. “We have things to do first.”

I blinked at him, my mind still foggy from the intensity of his kiss, my body humming with unspent desire. “Things to do?” I managed, my voice breathless and slightly incredulous. “You’re the one who started this.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, though the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed. “Trust me, princess, I’m not done with you. But patience is a virtue.” His hands slid down my thighs, his touch lingering just long enough to make me shiver before he helped me off his lap and back into my seat.

I let out a frustrated sigh, adjusting my top as I tried to regain some semblance of composure. Dante, of course, looked completely unbothered, though the way his jaw tightened and his hands flexed against the steering wheel betrayed the effort it was taking for him to keep himself in check.

The car pulled smoothly onto the main road, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across his face as we drove. The tension between us was palpable, the air thick with unspoken promises and the lingering heat of his touch. I tried to focus on the passing scenery, but my eyes kept drifting back to him—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the wheel, the faint smirk that played at the corner of his lips like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“Where are we going?” I asked finally, my voice breaking the charged silence.

“You’ll see,” he said, his tone maddeningly cryptic. His eyes flicked to me briefly, dark and smoldering, before returning to the road. “But first, let’s see if you can behave yourself.”

---