Page 39 of That's Amore

He slid his hand through the slit of my dress and cupped me. He groaned. “You’re naked.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, I’m glad I didn’t know earlier otherwise….” He stabbed me with a finger, and I clenched around him.

His kisses became rougher as he finger-fucked me.

“Don’t come,” he growled. “You have to wait.”

Was he out of his mind? I couldn’t control this.

I was just about to go over when he pulled his finger away. I moaned. “Dante,” I whined.

“I told you that you have to wait. You have to learn patience, cara mia.”

I licked my lips and looked behind him at the door.

“I don’t care,” he answered my unasked questions. What if someone came in? What if we were missed? Shouldn’t we hurry? “And neither should you. Focus on this.” He pushed his hips against me.

He turned me around. “Bend over,” he ordered.

I did as he asked, gasping as my hardened nipples touched the hard wooden desk. My bra was slight, lace, offering zero protection against scraping and friction.

“Hold on.” He put my hands on the edge of the desk. “I’m going to go hard, Elysa.”

He pushed my dress up, and I felt it bunch against my waist. He cupped my ass. “Bella.”

He pumped a finger inside me. “You’re so wet, cara. I love how you’re always soaked for me.”

“Yes.” I wanted to move my hips, but his hand on the small of my back held me still. “I need?—”

He slapped a cheek, and I lost all resistance.

“More,” I pleaded.

He slapped my ass again, harder.

We’d never done this before.Never. But it felt right now. I was an offering, my ass up, bare, and he could see my pussy.

He withdrew his finger, and I heard the sound of his belt and zipper. Anticipation splintered my nerves. Would it always be this good with Dante? Yes, I knew it would be. We’d never be the couple who stopped having sex. This kind of connection was unreal and unexpected, and I was grateful for it.

“You have to be quiet, bella.” I felt the broad head of his penis against my core. “Or people will come inside to investigate, and I’d have to kill anyone who saw you like this or heard you come.”

His possessiveness made me feel owned by him—it made me forget how we’d come together and made me hopeful for the future. No matter how much emotional distance he put between us, in this, there was no distance; there were only explosions.

His hand gripped my hair, and I braced for impact. Just as he stroked my pussy with his erection, I called out, “Dante, condom.”

“No,” he growled. “No more condoms.”

He knew I was on birth control, but he’d insisted on condoms. It had hurt my feelings initially, but when he explained that he didn’t want me to ever worry about not being safe, I knew he’d done it to take care of me. I also wondered if he was fucking other women.

Without warning, Dante slammed into me. All breath escaped out of me, and I felt full of him, full of my husband, my man, my lover.

“You’re perfect.” He groaned. “Your pussy is made for me. I want to see my cum flowing out of you, on your thighs.”

I moaned, and he spanked me hard. “I said, be quiet.”

I whimpered softly, too aroused to think straight.

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