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My dick twitches, and the words are out of my mouth before I even think about it. “I’m up for it if you are, baby.”

I realize just in time that she’s raised her hand to slap me, and I grab her wrist before she can make contact. She struggles against me.

“Let go of me, you asshole,” she shouts, and when I don’t let go, she tries even harder to pull away. The way she’s moving has her dress straining over her tits, and it’s all I can take. I pull her in close and my lips crash down onto hers.

Fuck. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. She tenses and struggles for a moment, but I feel it the instant she gives in to what’s been growing between us all night. I press her body up against the windows and tangle my hands in her hair, angling her head so I can devour her gorgeous mouth the way I want to. A tiny, helpless whimper escapes her, and it has me practically dizzy with need. I grab hold of one of her thighs and lift it, pressing my thigh between her legs, and she cries out at the contact of my leg to her pussy, my hard-on pressing into her belly.

“Dante,” she whimpers, and I kiss her again, my tongue delving between her lips, my thigh pressing against her, and when she grinds her pussy against my leg, I practically roar in victory. She’s just as needy as I am right now, and I have no qualms at all about taking advantage of that.

I pick her up and carry her down the hall to my bedroom. She’s panting, trembling a little, just as out of her mind as I am.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” I growl as I set her down. I quickly pull down the zipper at the back of her dress and push it off of her body, watching as it puddles around her feet, which are still in the heels my assistant bought for her. She wasn’t wearing a bra with the dress, and her full tits are there now, on display for me.

“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect,” I murmur as my gaze runs down her body. Her body is soft, curvaceous, and I can only imagine how good it’s going to feel having her under me. She’s wearing tiny, lacy red panties, and I have the feeling I’ll be reliving this moment in my wet dreams for a very long time.

I reach out and run my fingertips over her sh

oulder, then down, gently tracing the side of her full, luscious breast, then down her side, over her hip.

“Tell me you want this, baby,” I say, meeting her eyes. My voice is hoarse, and if she says no now, I’m going to lose my fucking mind. “I need to hear the words, Samantha.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me. Yes, what?”

She blushes prettily and glances away, and I cup her chin and force her to look up at me. Her eyes are wide, and she licks her lips. I can’t help myself: I lean in and claim her lips again, and she whimpers as I kiss, lick, and nibble her full lower lip.

“Tell me, Samantha,” I repeat. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I want that,” she whispers. I smile. I’m determined. She’s not going to play innocent with me forever.

“Want what? I want to hear you say it. You’ll say so much more before this is over. Tell me,” I say, and she responds immediately to the command in my voice.

“I want you to fuck me, Dante. Please,” she whispers.

Perfect. She is fucking perfect. My mouth crashes down onto hers again, and my only thought now is how many times I can make her come before I finally find the relief I’ve needed since that first moment at the Calla Club.

Chapter Six

Samantha

This is really happening.

Dante’s lips are on mine, hard, possessive, and all I can do is try to hold onto what feels like the last shred of sanity I have left. My heart is pounding, my stomach is twisting, and every cell in my body is screaming out for one thing: I need him to touch me.

As if he hears my silent plea, Dante cups my breasts in his big hands, and I let out a little cry at the sudden contact. He’s still kissing me, molding my breasts in his hands, and I can’t stop myself from thrusting my chest forward, needing more of his touch.

And oh, he obliges. He rubs his thumbs over my aching nipples, again and again, and the sensation is sweet torture. I’m holding onto him for dear life, and he’s kissing me in a way I’ve never been kissed before, his tongue rhythmically sliding into my mouth in a way that mimics what he’s going to be doing to me soon.

And then he takes each nipple between his fingers and rolls them, pinching them, and the loud, needy cry that comes from me is like no sound I’ve ever made before. All I know is I want him to do that again, harder…and then he does, and I can’t help myself; I grind my aching pussy against his thigh, and he laughs in this low, dangerous way that sends shivers up my spine.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to ignore your sweet cunt,” he murmurs as he kisses, then nibbles and sucks, the side of my neck. He’s still pinching, pulling, rolling my nipples, and I’m holding onto his shoulders.

His lips move from the side of my neck to my shoulder, and then he’s placing warm, open-mouthed kisses over the roundness of one breast as he continues torturing the other with his fingers. When his lips close over my nipple, all I can do is release one long, helpless moan, and I feel him laugh against my aching, swollen flesh. He’s sucking and biting and pinching and pulling, and then he starts on my other breast.

“Dante,” I murmur.

“Mm. I like the way you say my name. Say it again.”

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