Page 39 of When Sinners Fall
“Oh, where?” My eyes light up, and I think about the possibilities in this city.
“Does it matter?” He’s gruff, and sports frown lines on his face.
“Hell, yeah. You’ve left me for most of the day, after whisking me away, and now you’re back to ordering me around?” It’s like he’s got a split personality. Or rather, one that's hiding under the personality that seems to dominate him.
I saw a glimpse of the old Dante earlier this morning. He’s still in there.
“I want to take you out. Food. Dancing.”
“So, not another kink club?” I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t even know why I’m getting so pissed at him. The command-and-control thing is hot, but there’s only so much I can take, I guess.
“Not tonight.” He has that intense, sexy look in his eyes. Like he’s desperate to have me near. Maybe it’s just my imagination. There are so many things – so many questions – that I’ve not given word to because of the original confines of our relationship.
Maybe one day.
“What should I wear?” I challenge, although already softening to him.
“The blue dress.” He closes the distance between us and flicks my hair behind my shoulder before hovering his lips over my neck. “I have plans for it later.”
The deep cadence of his voice lights me up, and all my annoyance at his brisk request vanishes. My fingers run to the buttons of his shirt, popping each one and revealing his gorgeous chest. It’s light, and I can finally get a good look at the tattoo covering his skin.
“What are you doing, Wren bird?”
“Exploring my darker side.” I look up and give him my sexiest look possible. It feels silly, but I want this. With nothing else around, no kink, danger, or other people interfering with my mind, I can concentrate on one thing – Dante.
He doesn’t respond, so I shrug the shirt off his shoulders and pull it free at the wrists. I keep it in my hands and screw it up as I slowly stalk around him. My gaze follows the dark lines and shading from his neck, down his chest and over his arms and around to his back.
A dragon. It's bold, beautiful, and savage-looking, covering all of his skin. Mostly black and grey, but with accents of reds and oranges burning cuts into the art. I squeeze the shirt in my hands as I look at it. A beautiful beast, indelibly marked into his skin. My mind races with the thought of hours under the needle to create such a masterpiece.
“Did it hurt?” I ask quietly as I step closer to him and let my hands finally explore. His head shakes as my fingers follow the shape of the body of the monster, sweeping up and over his spine.
His low growl emboldens me, and I lean forward and run my lips over his skin. He smells of a rich, almost acrid smoke – a darker, more charcoal scent than cigarette smoke. But under it, there’s the familiar, deep scent of him.
“We’ll be late,” he murmurs. It’s neither a warning nor a statement, and I smile against his skin.
“Well, let’s be late.”
~
“I don’t think I’ve eaten this well in ages.” I close my cutlery and take a breath, looking at the half-dozen plates littering the table.
We made it to the restaurant, but it’s more like a kind of secluded jazz club, except it’s not jazz music, and there’s a dance floor. It’s full of intimate tables and is packed with couples.
“Dessert?” Dante asks.
“I couldn’t eat another bite.” I smile at him. The candles on the table and low lighting give this place an atmosphere that’s pretty intoxicating, even after the sex before we left the hotel room. Combine that with the fact that he hasn’t stopped looking at me – or, more accurately, staring at me all night – and I’m a little on edge. It took a few minutes to get used to it. I’d look back at him with a question on my face, but as I’m quickly realising, he doesn’t give explanations or offer conversation freely.Another thing about Dante I’m learning. But his look, his eyes watching me, is like a spell cast over me, and I’m lost in him when he does it.
“I’m guessing you chose this place for a reason?”
He rests his chin on his hand, looking all relaxed and sexy. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, revealing the ink that he’s covered in. If I had my way, he’d be shirtless a hell of a lot more around me. Although, I’d have to deal with wandering eyes from a lot more women than now if that were the case.
“I chose it for you, Wren Bird.”
“You don't like it?”
“Yeah, I do, but I wanted to see you in it.”
“You did?” I look around, smiling at the atmosphere. “Why?”
