Page 7 of Possessed
We make it into the private elevator without me bursting into flames on the spot, but I feel a sudden burst of excitement and fear as the doors silently slide closed, leaving us finally alone.
Dante turns, crowding me against the elevator wall as we rise through the building. His hand shoots out to cup my jaw, head tilting down towards mine before stopping mere inches away. I'm breathing like I've run a marathon, trying to convince my legs to keep holding me upright.
"You have until the count of three to tell me no. After that, I'm kissing your smart, sweet little mouth."
My lips part, but no sound escapes.
"One," Dante's grip shifts as he tilts my head just so, his thumb stroking my lip just like he did back at the shop. I'm silent.
"Two," he takes a step closer, his chest brushing mine, my nipples hardening beneath my shirt. I should say no, I should push him away, but I don't. I don't want to. I want him to kiss me, to see how far this thing will go.
I signed my life away; I might as well enjoy it.
"Three." He doesn't wait, his lips crashing down on mine, his tongue pushing past the seam of my lips as his hands wrap around my waist, pulling me against him. His kiss is deep, rough, and unrelenting, and I let him dominate me, my knees weak and shaking.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m drowning. I’m flying.
The elevator dings, but I barely hear it. Dante grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the elevator, and in a few steps, we're in the penthouse with the door slamming behind us. Dante grabs my other wrist, pinning my hands above my head as he kisses me again. Now that we're utterly alone, he takes his time, lips ghosting over mine once, twice, before he slants his mouth over mine and his tongue slips between my lips again.
He's devouring me, just as I knew he would, and while I try to keep up, try to kiss him back with equal fervour, he's an unstoppable force. He kisses me until I'm lightheaded, until my core is aching and desperate for relief. I shift, trying to rub my thighs together, but Dante pulls back, his eyes dark and feral as he stares down at me. "If you're wet right now, tell me."
"I..."
"No lying, remember?"
I nod, and Dante releases one of my wrists. His hand slips down the front of my pants, moving into my panties until his fingers slip over my soaked pussy lips. The sensation has me bucking against him, gripping a handful of his white shirt hard with my free hand. His grin is wicked, white teeth shining in the dark foyer. It's the middle of the day, but the curtains are drawn. Still, there's enough light to see my own wetness glimmering on his fingers when he pulls them out of me.
"You are fucking soaked, Isla," he growls.
"I..." I can't think of what to say, how to respond.
Dante releases me and steps back, looking down at me as I stand there, trembling and desperate.
"Strip. Now."
My hands move almost automatically, peeling off my shirt and bra before I slide my leggings and panties off. Dante watches me the entire time, not bothering to undress himself. It makes it all feel so much dirtier, him fully clothed and me bare.
When I'm completely naked, standing in front of him, Dante comes behind me and cups my breasts in his rough hands, his thumbs working the peaks in slow, agonizing circles until little cries are falling from my lips.
When he circles back to the front, I'm desperate for him to replace his fingers with his mouth, but instead, he motions to a nearby chair in the living room. "Sit."
I walk over, feeling self-conscious, and take a seat. I want to cross my legs and cover myself, but I force myself to stay still, to sit up straight. Dante takes a moment to look me over, his gaze roaming my body. "Open your legs."
Again, I obey.
"Wider," he growls, and I spread them further apart, letting him look his fill. My face is burning with embarrassment, but it's also arousal. Dante steps closer, hands dropping to my knees to push them open as much as he wants, and I'm on full display.
"I'm going to taste you," Dante says, dropping to his knees in front of me. "And I'm not stopping until I've had my fill. Don't push me away. Understand?"
Breathless, thoughtless except for the awareness of what this man is doing to me, I nod. I can't imagine a single reason I would want to push him away, anyway.
Dante grins and hooks one of my legs over his shoulder. He leans in, his nose brushing against my slick pussy, inhaling deeply.
"So fucking good," he groans, before licking a stripe along my slit. I gasp, hips bucking up, but Dante holds me in place, keeping me still as he flicks my clit with the tip of his tongue. He's so tall that he has to pull me forward some, hooking my other leg over his shoulder so the angle is right.
I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my entire life.
His stubble is rough against my inner thighs, but I can barely focus on the sensation. His tongue is doing things to me that I didn't know were possible, drawing circles around my swollen bundle of nerves before licking it slowly with the flat of his tongue, before starting all over again. I try to hold on to something, anything, but there's nothing to grip except the chair.
