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He came louder, much louder, calling out my name as he rooted deep and finished.
He was still rutting inside of me, milking out every last twitch when he stiffened suddenly.
"Fuck. Tiffany," he said, voice pitched loud.
That, of course, made me stiffen. I was craning my neck around, heart already wounded with just two words, absolute murder in my eyes.
Had he really just said Tiffany? I couldn't quite believe it.
But as my eyes caught on movement in the woods, it all made sense. There she was, backing away, eyes wide. Our gazes met an instant before she turned and fled.
"What the fuck was that?" I asked no one in particular.
"She accidentally walked up on us, I think," Dante said, coming way too fucking quickly to her defense. "She couldn't have known we'd go twenty feet into the woods and start having sex."
"She clearly doesn't understand us at all, then."
"We need to stop doing this. That's twice now someone's been creeping on us in the woods. I don't like it." As he spoke, his weight lifted off my back and he slipped out of me.
I turned, leaning my back against the tree as I looked up, up, up at him. "I can control myself if you can." It was probably a lie, but one I doubted I'd ever be tested on.
As though proving my point, his eyes were on my body, one hand going to cup my breast, the other to my sex. "Did you get off? You were so quiet I couldn't tell."
I bit my lip and lied, "I didn't."
"I'm sorry. Want me to take care of you?" he asked, voice gone quiet and dark. He moved closer, thumb circling my clit as he pushed a finger inside of me.
I gasped and nodded. "Please, Dante," I pleaded, because he loved that, and as a sort of penance for the selfish, pointless lie. I hadn't had to make him feel guilty to get him to go down on me, but for some reason I'd wanted to. Needed that element of repentance in his touch.
He wasn't the only manipulative one here.
He lowered to his knees, perched one of my legs onto his shoulder, and buried his face between my thighs. He pushed two fingers into me and went to work on my clit with his tongue, his free hand sliding up to fondle my breasts.
I gripped his hair with one hand, the other covering his on my chest, feeling at my body with him. There was something unutterably sensual about experiencing his touch on me through my own fingers.
I was calling out his name less than quietly, eyes pointed beseechingly up at the sky, when a movement caught the corner of my eye.
My head snapped to the side. It was Tiffany. Again. Peeking at us from behind a thick pine.
I glared at her.
She smiled back, turned, and fled. Again.
Dante was standing, wiping his mouth before I told him. "Tiffany came back to watch round two."
He looked infuriatingly confounded. "What? Are you sure?'
I was so pissed by that, by the fact that his mind worked that way, that somehow me imagining seeing her was even vaguely possible, that I just stopped talking.
I shrugged on his shirt, put on my jeans, and started walking determinedly back to my grandma's trailer.
He was on my heels. "Why would she come back? I don't get it."
To see you naked, I almost replied, but bit my tongue. It was becoming apparent that he needed to figure out for himself who and what Tiffany was. I was sick and tired of trying to show him myself. I'd lost all patience.
He dropped the subject, which was for the best, because I was brewing for a fight.
CHAPTER TEN
