Page 117 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
A nerve crackles through me. “I thought you said you didn’t dance.”
His brow dips into a frown. “I never said that.”
I glance back at Sera and she nods encouragingly.
I turn back around. “Okay, well, sure.”
He takes my hand and guides me to the dance floor. I feel the music instantly, as though it’s roots are coming up through the floor and entwining around my feet.
Benito lifts my arms and hook my wrists around his neck.
“Jeez, I’m going to get frozen shoulder dancing with my arms at this angle,” I moan.
His eyes roll. “Are you always this dramatic when you’re dancing?”
I’m about to shoot back a sarcastic quip but the feel of his hands sliding around my waist whips the breath from my lungs.
Seriously, though. He is enormous and my neck is already aching from craning upward.
“Okay, brat,” he sighs. “But just this one time.”
Before I can ask what he’s talking about, he scoots his large hands beneath my arms and lifts me until our faces are level.
Nerves make me glance about, searching for Allegra who may well, if she sees this, come storming over and demand to have him put me down.
He pulls me into his chest then somehow removes his hands from under my arms and wraps them around my back.
His eyes narrow and his full, dangerous lips move. “What am I going to do with you, Contessa Castellano?”
I pull a lip between my teeth and slowly drag it out until it pops free. Benito watches it, swallowing. I dip toward his ear. “Nothing too extreme,” I whisper. “Just yet.”
His gaze is soft when I return it. Then he arches a brow. “Handcuffs? I could borrow Augie’s?”
I shake my head, fighting a smile.
His eyes narrow further. “Missionary?”
My coremelts. Just that one, straight-laced, vanilla word has set my blood on fire. A vision of Benito lowering his weight onto me, pressing my thighs apart with just one of his solid legs, the ink on his chest dancing with the tension in his arms, and the feel of his cock sliding into me, makes my eyes glaze over.
“Fuck,” he drawls. “That’s it, isn’t it? Me on top of you. A nice, long, slow fuck.”
A rush of blood surfaces all over my skin.
“Take off my tie.”
My lids ping open.
“Your hands are already there,” he says, casually. “Just take it off and put it around your neck.”
My brows knit. “Why?”
“Can you just, for once, do something I ask without giving me the Spanish Inquisition?”
“Careful,” I warn. “I could strangle you.”
“I thought you didn’t wantextremejust yet,” he smirks.
I smack his shoulder playfully. “I won’t ever wantthat, Bernadi.”
