Page 88 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

Dante’s attention was on me immediately, his hand guiding my wing as I eased it off his arm. The touch was intimate, but I’d steadied myself against the sensation.

I put my wings away and sat up slowly. My bare body was slick with sweat, but my stomach was growling something fierce.

“You’ve got to be starving. Here,” I held my wrist to Dante’s face awkwardly, trying to avoid the discomfort of waking up together in my bed, completely naked, when I was trying to avoid feeling things for him.

Instead of biting my wrist, he kissed it. Lightly.

Then he released it, and he sat up too.

The motion slid me down his abdomen.

My eyes widened slightly as his erection rested against my center, the tip near my asshole.

“Do you want to bite my throat, or…” I trailed off.

Dante surprised me by tossing the blanket aside and sliding to the edge of the bed. “I can hear your stomach growling, Angel. There’s no world in which I bite you while you’re starving.”

“Okay, but…” I trailed off again as he stood up, lifting me with him.

Grabbing his shoulders for support, I hooked my legs around his back to keep myself balanced.

Dante crossed the room, carrying me into the closet and setting me down on my feet. “Get dressed. I’m taking you to breakfast.”

“Breakfast? Like, at a restaurant? I don’t really like—okay, then.” I muttered the last two words as he left me in the closet, alone.

I pulled a sports bra on quickly, and was stepping into a pair of neon panties when he came striding back into the closet. There were a bunch of clothing protection bags draped over his shoulder, and a stack of boxes in his arms.

“You’re seriously moving in?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“We should discuss that first.”

“Like we should’ve discussed your prison rescue plan?”

Ouch.

Okay, I kind of deserved that.

I recovered quickly. “That was only one night. Are you only moving in for one night, or⁠—“

“That nearly cost us both your whole life, Ophelia. I’m moving in. Permanently. It's not up for debate.”

So, this was a losing battle.

Cool.

Time to change gears.

“We should at least have our own rooms if we’re going to⁠—“

“Not happening.” Dante hung his clothing bags on an empty rack. The closet was easily big enough for ten times as many clothes as I had, with built in drawers all over the place and tons of space on the racks.

He opened the first box and started loading his clothes into one of the drawers.

Dammit.

I finally pulled my panties the rest of the way on.