Page 78 of The Cursed and the Broken
“Gods,” I breathed, my skin heating as the wave of pleasure built inside me. He crashed against me like a dam, shaking my foundations as I rocked against him, grinding against his mouth.
I cried out as my climax swept over me, breaking me apart as my legs quivered.More. I wanted more of him. All of him. He looked at me, smiling lazily, a questioning glint in his eyes.
I nodded and, on a breathless whisper, I commanded, “Yes.”
He removed his shirt and shucked off his pants. I stared at his length, the powerful thighs beneath. The muscles bunched in his arms as he reached down between us, grasping his cock and running the head over my clit.
Dante lined himself up with my centre, easing in gently before slamming fully inside me with one thrust. We both gasped and he allowed me a second to adjust to his size before he began to move. Dante gave no quarter, filling me up, thrusting deep. I arched beneath him, hands clasped to his shoulders, nails digging in so hard he clenched his jaw somewhere between pleasure and pain.
His lips swept down to mine and I could taste myself on his lips. He dragged his teeth over them, biting down hard enough to hurt before flicking his tongue over the pain, then the exposed column of my neck.
It only made me want him more. I writhed against him, wrapping my legs around his waist, locking my body to his own. We fit so perfectly together, moving in tandem, grinding in a whirlwind of pleasure.
I met his need with every stroke, angling myself so he could thrust deeper still. He moaned and the sound had my core thrumming deep. He kissed me, our tongues twisting, our need devouring. I savoured every inch of him, rocking harder and faster, releasing my legs from his waist and stretching my hands out to grasp the edge of the bedframe.
He latched one hand to my hip, the other clamped tightly over one of my hands and I arched, dropping my head backwards. He thrust faster, faster, until I was screaming, his groans filling every crack in the silence of the bedroom.
“Dante,” I whispered, and his name on my lips was his undoing.
He pounded, jerking against me as we both climaxed, my pleasure coming in dizzying waves as vertigo flushed to my head and warmth spread from my core. Our bodies were slick with sweat, my heart pounding with adrenaline as I lay gasping.
When he finished,he lay on top of me, wrapping me in his embrace and I didn’t want to be anywhere else, do anything else in this moment.
There was only him.
THIRTY-THREE
“You’re the most beautiful creatureI’ve ever seen.”
“Flatterer.” I punched Dante in the arm before turning to the mirror, unable to wipe the stupid grin from my face. I felt like a queen, swathed in black silk that cinched in the bodice before spilling out in smoky waves to the floor. The fabric had a sheer layer sweeping around my arms, giving a fluttering cut-off sleeve.
Margit helped pin half of my hair up with a snake clip, its eyes beaded with jet black gems. My hair hung in gentle curls, smelling of orange blossom and almonds—a tantalising lotion she had gifted me earlier.
She painted my lips with a subtle rouge and dusted my cheeks. “There,” she said with a flourish of her brush. “Perfection.”
I blinked at the reflection staring back at me. Someone wholly different, yet wildly familiar. Her hazel eyes burned with resolve, her spine was straight and she smiled. A fierce thing from a fierce witch. “Margit, I’m …” I trailed off, unsure how to thank her. Not just for the small gestures, but for the friendship she’d offered. The kindness, despite my hasty judgement yesterday.
She swept my hair over one shoulder and leaned in close, whispering so only I could hear. “In my mind, you’re a queen, Kitarni. The only one keeping her caged was you. It’s time to open the door.” She smiled knowingly and turned away, placing a gentle hand on Dante’s sleeve before exiting the room.
“There’s just one thing missing,” he said.
I frowned at him in the mirror, brows pulling down as I smoothed my palms over the dress. What could top Margit’s efforts? Something glittered in his hand, catching the light of the sconces. Gold and red, swinging in a pendulum from his fingers.
Turning, I gasped at the sight of the necklace. A ruby teardrop the size of my thumb nail hung from a chain of gold, caged within golden filigree.
“May I?”
I nodded dumbly as he placed the chain over my neck and the ruby settled between my breasts.
It glimmered like a scarlet pool, soaking up the firelight. “It’s beautiful.”
“I had it commissioned by the castle jeweller. A reminder that you are more than your magic. Your blood may be different, but you are more precious than any power attainable. Your kith may not realise that, but I do.”
Tears pricked my eyes as my throat closed over, emotion bubbling up within. The more I saw this side of Dante, the more I wanted him. The softness beneath the muscled exterior. The smooth creamy goodness of a bejgli. And gods, did I want every part of him even more after our bedroom session. I tried not to glance at the bed behind us, but my eyes defied me.
Dante caught my gaze and smirked, already knowing where my mind had gone. “My good girl, I promise you’ll getthatreward later.”
I licked my lips. “I do recall you said something about wearing only jewels to bed …”
