Page 56 of Second Chance Daddy
His body cages mine, all heat and coiled power. His face inches from mine, breath hot on my cheek.
“I would never hurt you,” he says. “Never. But I’d take down anyone who does.”
Our eyes lock, and I can’t breathe or think. Heck, I can’t remember why I was fighting him in the first place.
Because this close? This is where the danger really is. My pulse skips like it belongs to him already.
His grip loosens on my wrist, but he doesn’t back off. His free hand skims down my side, rough, greedy, settling on my hip like he owns it.
“You gonna run?” His voice curls around me like smoke, dangerous and impossible to resist.
“I should,” I whisper, but I don’t move. My voice is all breath, my knees weak, every cell in my body sparking like faulty wiring.
Instead, I lean in. It’s like striking a match over gasoline.
Dante doesn’t wait for permission after that.
His mouth crashes into mine, all fury and ache, his kiss a brutal collision of teeth, breath, and want. It steals the air from my lungs, burns away the space between us. His hand knots in my hair, tilting my head back. My body responds before my brain can catch up, tongue meeting his in a clash that’s more battle than kiss.
The world blurs. The hall disappears. It’s just him—his hands, his mouth, the raw, unbearable heat that coils low in my belly.
My hands fist in his shirt, nails raking down his chest as I try to get closer, to crawl inside him, to disappear into this feeling that’s burning me alive.
He groans into my mouth, low and rough, the sound vibrating straight down my spine like a damn earthquake. His hands are everywhere—tangled in my hair, sliding down my back, gripping my hips like he paid a down payment on them.
“Fuck, Cassie,” he growls, lips dragging fire down my neck, voice all wrecked and dangerous. “You drive me insane.”
Yeah? Welcome to the club. I’ve got a lifetime membership to losing-my-damn-mind.
I can’t use my words and can barely breathe with the way my pulse is short-circuiting every rational thought. His hands slide down, gripping under my thighs, and in the next breath, my legs are locked around his waist. He carries me like I weigh nothing—like I’m light as sin and just as tempting—stumbling down the hall, eating up the space between us like a man starved.
The first door we reach? He kicks it open like the damn Terminator.
Guest room. Empty. Dark. Perfect.
The door slams shut behind us, and the next thing I know, my back hits it hard, knocking the air from my lungs, but God, I don’t even care. All I care about is him—his mouth crashing back to mine, his hands sliding down my legs, up my ass, gripping me like I’m his last good decision.
His voice wrecks me, low and guttural against my throat, his teeth scraping skin. “I need you, now.”
“Yeah,” I tug at his shirt. “So do it already.”
His hands slide down, fingers gripping my ass so tight I swear I see stars behind my eyelids.
“Goddamn, Cass,” he mutters, voice all wrecked and hungry, like he’s been waiting for this as long as I’ve been stupid enough to run from it. “You always did know how to drive a man crazy.”
Suddenly, the floor’s gone. I yelp as he throws me over his shoulder like I’m some package, his hand landing a sharp smack to my backside for good measure.
“Be good, Cassie,” he tosses over his shoulder, low and smug, like he knows full well that’s never gonna happen.
And then he tosses me onto the bed, like I’m weightless, like I’m his to do with what he wants, and the mattress dips under me with a bounce.
I stare up at him, pulse tripping over itself, every nerve ending lit up and buzzing.
The room feels too small. Too hot. Too inevitable.
He stands over me, like some apex predator deciding exactly how he’s going to ruin me.
His hands dip, fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts, yanking them down my legs in one sharp, rough motion that sends goosebumps racing across my skin.
