There’s a sharp little gasp.
Then her lips press against mine.
And well…
Fuck it.
8
CARMEN
Porca miseria. Ma porca puttana.
Holy shit. Motherfucking bitch.
When did I start mentally cursing in Italian?
Mierda.
Fuck.
Better.
Dante’s hand is on the back of my neck. When did that happen?
His lips are just…son of a bitch.
Everything. It’s everything. More, actually.
In these silent days of relentlessly trying not to think about this very scenario, I could have never imagined this. Howgoodthis feels. The way desire courses through my body, the hardening of my nipples, the squirming feeling between my legs.
He holds me steady as I experiment with pressure against every corner of his mouth, chasing the feeling of pure, unbridled want. Greedy for it.
Then.
Oh.
His tongue dips out across my bottom lip.
The jolt of desire is so strong my eyes snap open.
Which is very, very bad. Because now I’m very, very aware of my surroundings.
And…
I’mkissingDante Grasso.
My hand reacts before my brain can catch up.
SLAP.
The sound of my palm on flesh reverberates around the dungeon with a ferocity that makes me cringe back away from the bars.
Dante stares at me in a daze. The hand that had held my neck moments ago now cradles the side of his face.
“I…” my voice cracks. Too low. “I’m sorry.”
“Youkissedme.”
