Page 37 of Obsession & Oath

“Yes.”

With a hum of disappointment, Dante returns to my neck. Only this time he caresses it with histongue.

I gasp as the sensation sends merciless bolts of electricity between my thighs. Everything suddenly feels heightened on my sensitive skin.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Learning,” he breaths in my ear, sending another shudder through my body. Then there’s a gentle tug on my earlobe with his teeth that makes me gasp again. “Learning all the ways, I can make you dothat.”

I have to bite down on my lip to suppress the groan.

Impossibly, Dante notices. His own fingers ghost over my mouth, then pull down on my bottom lip to free it.

“You want to learn too, don’t you?”

I nod, helplessly.

“Then let me hear you.”

“Merda.”

“Good girl,” he pulls away with an infuriating smirk. “Now, show me. Show me how you’ve been touching yourself.”

My hands suddenly feel clumsy as I move to obey. One finds a familiar purchase on my breast, already massaging into the skin the way Dante instructed before. The other hovers just above the waistband of my pants.

At my hesitation, Dante’s hand covers mine, cool and assertive, guiding me down, pushing us both toward the warmth between my thighs.

I gasp again as my fingertips blush against the wetness already forming there.

Dante attacks my neck again with a satisfied smirk, his hand never leaving mine. Fingers pushing against my fingers, urging them on, directing them to touch, to stroke, topush.

So much is happening at once. My other hand palms at my nipple in a frenzy, desperate for something to ground myself. But all progress is thrown out the window as Dante licks the length of my neck hungrily.

“Very good.” He bites and I don’t even know where his teeth sink into my skin because a cool finger slips into me right next to my own.

The sound I make is obscene as he stills, waiting for me to adjust to the intrusion. I feel stretched out, pulled in a thousand directions as he slowly withdraws. His other fingers clutch at my shaking hand before inserting us both again, together.

Two fingers work me open, but only one of them is my own.

I don’t know how I remain standing. Stars erupt in my vision. I lean so heavily into Dante, there’s nothing I can see but the broad expanse of his chest, the overwhelming scent of amber drawing me into the expanse of his bare neck.

In a heated frenzy, I press my lips against the skin I find there, burying my face into the base of his shoulder, tongue lapping at the taste of salt, ofDante himself.

The man stills.

I’m too dazed to understand the sudden absence, the sudden rush of cool air, the way my body stumbles, only to be caught again at the hips.

Our conjoined hands break apart. Then, there’s the snap of elastic as my pants are removed entirely.

I blink down at the sight of Dantekneelingbefore me.

The exact way I had imagined kneeling before him.

That same hunger in his eyes is intensified tenfold.

“Keep touching yourself, just like I showed you,” he whispers.

My hand quivers as it obeys, self-conscious under his watchful scrutiny. But I quickly lose myself to the feeling once more, replacing Dante’s absent finger with my own.

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