Page 56 of The Cursed and the Broken
His thumb swept over my lips and I parted them softly, lost in eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned in, sweeping my hair from my shoulder as he whispered in my ear. “I am not afraid of you, Freckles. And you are not alone.”
My breath hitched as his own sent shivers down my neck and, gods help me, I threw caution to the wind, forgetting my fears, letting my walls tumble and igniting the need deep inside.
I couldn’t unleash my anger on the world, but I could ignite passion with another.
TWENTY-THREE
I curled my fingers inhis shirt, clutching the fabric in my fists as I tugged him closer. His lips crashed into mine, hard and bruising with need. My heart thundered in my chest as the world rippled to nothingness—nothing but him and me in my bubble of awareness.
His hands felt like fire when he lifted me into his arms, setting me down on his lap as he sat back against the cushions. I straddled him, wrapping my legs tight around his body as he lined up beneath me. I rolled my hips against him, my core turning molten at the hardness pressed against me.
I opened my mouth and his tongue curled in, exploring and eager, glorious and devouring. He tasted like red wine and embers, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the sensation.
A moan escaped my lips, the sound stirring him even further. His fingers fisted in my hair, clenching the roots to angle my head and expose my throat. Warm lips travelled my jaw, his teeth scraping over my trembling pulse then back up to claim my mouth.
Desperation filled me and I roved my hands under his shirt, sliding them over rigid muscle and smooth planes. He was built like a god, the olive tone of his skin gleaming in the firelight.
I lost myself to the deepening kiss, growing hungrier as my fingers dipped tantalisingly low, tracing the vee above the lip of his pants. A low growl rumbled from him and his grip on my hair tightened, forcing my gaze to meet his.
They glinted dangerously in the firelight and I traced a hand gently along the sharpness of his jaw, the angles of his cheeks before plunging my own fingers into his hair. His lips quirked as he plucked leaves and twigs from my hair as I stared at him, a soft and surprising laugh leaving me. His dark locks gleamed with reddish strands as I ran my fingernails over his scalp and he elicited a low groan that thrummed through my core.
His hands dropped to my shirt, making quick work of the buttons until the material opened, revealing plain white undergarments beneath. He looked at me appreciatively, roaming calloused hands over the exposed skin, drifting down my collar bone, my chest, in between my breasts and down dangerously low.
Excitement coursed through me at the proximity of those practiced hands, teasing as I had only moments before. I writhed at his touch, trying to squeeze my thighs together to relieve the need pounding deeper. But he leaned back, a wicked grin on his face. “Take it off.”
I hesitated. What would he think if he saw my scars? The writhing stripes of shimmering black slashed across my spine? I’d never shown them to a lover before. Never revealed that part of myself.
Don’t hide.
Raising a brow, I tugged on the fastenings of my corset and shrugged out of my shirt slowly, rolling the sleeves down my arms. He appraised my breasts, but I reared back before he could touch them, slapping his hands away.
“You next,” I said softly.
His eyes flashed as they drank in every curve. I’d always been relatively fit, built athletically. Slim, yet not waifish like many of the other young women. My ribcage wasn’t as tiny, my waist not as small, but I was in good shape. Strong, feminine, and glowing.
I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Seeing the way he looked at me, I felt powerful. Daring. Dante challenged me, excited me in ways other lovers never had.
He peeled his shirt off lazily, shrugging out of it with a crooked smile. The tattoos inked over his chest gleamed, the wolf snarling from his chest, the flowers seeming to shimmer in the firelight. His corded arms rippled as he moved and I traced each vein flushed from heat, from the blood pumping through his body. I kissed his forearm gently before leaning in to claim his lips again.
Taking my neck in one hand, he pulled me closer, crashing my lips to his once more as his tongue swept into my mouth. He pressed my hand to the strain of his pants and a thrill coursed through me.
“Remove them,” I commanded, no longer able to tamp down the pounding in my core.
He grinned against my lips, squeezing a hand around my upper thigh before obeying. “So bossy.”
My pants dropped to the floor as he tugged his off and picked me up, squeezing my ass before he lay me before the fire. To my relief, Laszlo had long since disappeared, but the brief thought rushed from me as he stared at me hungrily.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, right before placing a finger to my centre.
Gasping, I jerked, arching my back as his fingers circled below. He slipped one finger in, then two, and I gasped as my body pulsed with heat, my core tightening around his clever fingers. I writhed against him, the ache mounting, the pleasure surging to the surface. Leaning back on my elbows, I cupped a hand to his length—the considerable size of him in my palm.
Pumping him slowly with my hand as he moved his fingers in and out of me, we matched rhythms until the crescendo quickened, faster, faster, my cries combining with his moans until my legs were shaking and I felt a wave of delicious heat surge through me. My climax mounted, and his breathing came in quick gasps as we came together. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, overcome with pure bliss so agonising I wanted it to stop. To never stop.
I felt him shudder beside me, but I knew he wasn’t spent yet. His brown eyes looked gilded in the dim glow of the fire, his skin gleaming with sweat and dirt and the faintest splatters of blood here and there.
The sight of that black substance on his skin stole the desire from me, made my stomach turn as reality came crashing back hard and fast.
Lying on my back, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts from my mind. Dante placed a featherlight kiss to my collar bone, his hair tickling my cheek as he bent over me. My skin prickled with awareness at his touch, the very press of his lips sending delightful shivers down my body.
