Page 164 of Pretty Wicked Secrets

He palms both my breasts, rolling and pinching my nipples between his fingers, and the slippery slide of the oil in contrast to the roughness of his hands has me moaning in no time. At first, I think he’s decided to old-school romance me with flickering candlelight and a baby oil massage, but as soon as he has my skin coated with the oil, he lifts one of the red candles out of its holder and tips it above me, sending a thin stream of hot wax splattering down onto my body.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp, my back arching off the bed as the searing droplets of wax hit my skin.

“Nowthat’sfucking gorgeous,” Dante murmurs, his eyes heating up as they rake over the blood-red pattern he created. He leans down and scrapes his teeth over my collarbone, and my nerves flare to life like the wax somehow took my normal sensitivity and ratcheted it up to eleven.

When I gasp, he chuckles with satisfaction, then rocks back onto his heels and tips the candle over my body again, snaking it down my center.

“Dante.”

It’s the most perfect kind of pain. The initial shock of hot, burning intensity fades to a dull warmth that leaves everything feeling heightened. Dante does it over and over, until my body resembles one of his paintings.

Then he reaches for the baby oil again, pours some directly over my clit, and follows with a hot stream of wax.

“Oh shit, shit,shit,” I gasp, almost levitating off the bed.

Dante holds me down, setting the candle back on its base and then scraping his blunt nails over the wax on my breasts.

It’s too much. I scream for him.

He captures my mouth and swallows it down, then flips me onto my stomach and plunges his dick into me.

“Oh god.”

The friction of his soft bedspread on the heightened sensitivity of my skin is overwhelming, and the furious pace he starts fucking me at doesn’t give me even a single second to catch my breath.

I don’t want one.

It’s perfect.

Dante has always known how to play my body like an instrument; how to fuck me until everything else ceases to exist. But this time, it feels like something more. It feels like he’s determined to find each and every way he can pleasure me while we still have the chance.

“Oh fuck, princess,” he groans, holding me down as he pounds into me. “Can’t ever get enough of you.”

I’m close to coming again, my core tightening in a delicious coil as he works my body over, and then suddenly, he slows down. Lays himself over the top of me, one hand on my hip and the other pushing the long waves of my hair aside.

“Can’t ever get enough of you,” he repeats, murmuring the words against the back of my neck.

He kisses me softly there as he fucks into me so deep I can practically taste him. His cock fills me up, over and over until I’m whimpering. And when I come again, he comes too, pulsing inside me like he’s trying to leave a mark that will never fade.

Breathing heavily, he finally draws out of me, but even then, he’s not done. His fingers dip into my well-used pussy, gathering the cum that’s leaking out of me before he rolls me over to face him and lifts his fingers to my lips.

“Open,” he breathes, his voice hoarse. “Taste how fucking good we are together. You and me.”

I wrap my lips around his fingers, swirling my tongue to gather it all. And he’s right. We taste too fucking good together. I bite his fingertips gently, trapping them between my teeth for a moment before I release them.

“It’s good,” I admit quietly, and I hope he knows I’m not just talking about the taste of our combined arousal.

“Best I’ll ever have,” he murmurs.

Then he gently rubs the wax off my body, his large hands soothing the sensitive skin. When it’s all gone, he pulls me close, wrapping me in his arms like it’s exactly where we both know I belong.

I settle against his big frame, feeling turned inside out. Both raw and soothed.

Feeling like I’m home.

And not letting myself think about how, in the morning, it will be time to say goodbye to all of it.

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