Page 68 of Obsession & Oath

Dante slips in first, unconcerned…or at least so familiar now with my presence that he doesn’t find a need to comment.

But I pause in the doorway, blinking at the sight of my own things scattered around his room—my clothes folded neatly in a drawer, my books lining the shelves. The ensuite housing a cabinet half full of my toiletries.

I didn’t plan for this to happen. I didn’t plan to insert myself into his world like this. But here I am, standing in a room that feels like it could belong to both of us. I wonder when it all shifted.

It’s been weeks since the ball. So much time has passed in this new routine, yet it hasn’t felt that long at all, as if time seems to slip away whenever I’m around Dante.

I think of going out exploring Montecroce or laughing with Evelina as we redecorate the billiard room. Or walking through the gardens. Or chatting with the gardeners.

Maybe it’s just the magic of the Castello di Ferro.

“You okay?” Dante turns to me from where he’s perched on the edge of the bed with a small frown on his otherwise peaceful face.

I step into the room, my hand brushing against the dresser where my things are tucked away. It feels so familiar now, soright.

I don’t know if I’m falling in love with Italy or Dante or both. But what I do know is that something in me has shifted. My heart feels fuller than it’s ever been, in a way that makes me want to both laugh and cry all at once.

It’s more than just a place. More than just a person. It’sus,and it’s terrifying in the best way possible.

“I think so,” I say, letting the truth of the statement settle between us for a moment before going to straddle Dante on the bed.

Dante immediately has his hands on my thighs, greedily securing them and running a thumb across the bare skin. “Wanna tell me how you got so chummy with my mother?”

“I absolutely do not want to talk about your mother right now.”

I kiss the sly grin straight off his mouth.

He rises into the kiss, a content sound escaping his mouth as he gently lowers us back onto his bed. There’s no rush to the way we kiss, just a languid kind of contentedness as he licks into my mouth over and over.

The way our bodies slot together is its own special kind of perfection. I’m so familiar with the shape of him below me that I could identify him in the dark. I could touch those arms, that chest and justknow.

It’s a sacred kind of belonging.

And in my darkest, most desperate moments, that’s what I want more than anything. For Dante Grasso to belong to me.

And I to him.

And when he slides his hands up my shirt to palm at my breasts the way he knows I like, that fantasy only becomes more intense.

I groan and grind my hips under his touch. His deft fingers pinch and rub perfectly around my already-taught nipple. I know what he’ll do next and hastily unbutton my shirt to give him access.

His smile is crooked as he sits us back up and takes my nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck,” I say as my back arches, pushing my chest into his face. He hums back contentedly. Hands roaming my bare back, skirting down my sides, then secure around my thighs again.

“Take these off,” he grumbles against my skin.

It takes me a moment to realize that he’s tugging on my shorts. The sensation of being tasted so thoroughly really does a number on my mental cognition.

I slip off his lap to do as he says. Then, after a second to consider, I make short work of his own pants before returning to my perch.

My crotch rubs gloriously against his now that there’s only the thin fabric of our underwear between us. I can feel the heat, the hardness of his own desires pressing back into me.

That fantasy of belonging thrums through me as my kisses become sickly sweet, quickly devolving into an obsession with his tongue, sucking it into my mouth over and over and…

“Look what you’re fucking doing to me.” Dante drags down his boxer shorts with one hand, letting loose his staggering erection.

There’s nothing slow or languid about his expression anymore. It’s fierce, it’shungry.

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