Page 90 of Savage Ambition

Up close, his transformation was even more disorienting. His blue eyes were framed by long lashes and smoky shadow. His painted red lips begged to be kissed.

“Welcome,” he greeted me in a sultry contralto. His crimson lips curved into a smile.

Words failed me as my eyes fixed on the swell of his buxom breasts. My hands moved instinctively, settling on his narrow hips before sliding up the dramatic hourglass silhouette. I traced the severe inward dip of his waist, which seemed cinched impossibly small.

I followed the curve upward to the heavy breasts rising from the top edge. My palms itched to cup their fullness. I hesitated, unworthy to touch him further without permission.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered. I wanted to kiss him, but he stood too tall in his heels.

For the first time, I understood men like Jace who became obsessed with feminine curves and breasts. But my racing pulse came from knowing who existed beneath the glorious artifice. The man I’d always desired had transformed into a vision that awakened a lust so powerful it threatened to consume me.

I mentally thanked whatever impulse had made me book two hours instead of one. The extra time served as my penance for running away before.

Dante guided me to sit beside him on the chaise, interlacing our fingers. “Feeling guilty?”

“A little.” I glanced downward at his glittering purple nails.

All the carefully rehearsed apologies I’d practiced on the subway dissolved. Words were irrelevant now.

He straddled my lap. The weight of him both familiar and strange in his feminine guise. The hard press of his erection against my stomach through the thin satin clashed with the artificial curves under my hands.

I leaned forward, offering my mouth as both apology and surrender.

His painted lips met mine with teasing tenderness. The lightest suction on my lower lip made me chase his mouth when he drew back. A delicate flick of his tongue invited rather than invaded and tasted of sweet vanilla. His lipstick didn’t smudge, allowing me to kiss him deeply without destroying his perfect presentation.

His fingers threaded through my hair. The sharp points of his long nails scraped against my scalp, making my entire body tense with unexpected pleasure. His technique remained delicately feminine, but the hunger behind it was pure Dante.

He tilted my head back to expose my throat. His mouth traced a path from my jaw to my collarbone.

Unable to resist, I finally cupped his artificial breasts. They carried a natural weight that settled heavily against my palms. When my thumbs brushed over the peaks, Dante released a breathy moan.

The sound shot straight to my cock. His reaction seemed genuine, as if he felt my touch through the breastplate. I squeezed again, testing their resistance. Despite never touching a woman’s breasts before, the action felt natural as I kneaded the generous swell of Dante’s artificial breasts.

Abandoning his breasts, my hands traveled up his spread thighs, feeling the muscle beneath the delicate lace stockings. I followed the path to his hips, then around to grab his ass. The thong barely qualified as clothing, leaving him exposed to my greedy touch.

He stood suddenly, breaking the contact. The head of his dick peeked obscenely from the top of his lingerie. When he turned, gifting me with a view of his perfectly rounded ass, he looked over his shoulder with an amused expression. “Are you planning on staring all night, or do you want to continue?”

The question brought me to my feet. I pressed against him from behind, one arm circling his waist while my other hand cupped his erection through the thong. “Please,” I begged. “I need you.”

Our fingers interlocked as he led me to the enormous bed that dominated the room. The red-and-gold bedspread matched the opulent room.

Dante grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me closer with a strength that reminded me of what lay beneath the feminine facade. He undid my belt and tugged it free with a satisfying snap of the leather. Within seconds, my clothes were gone. I stood completely naked before him, while he remained clothed in silk and lace.

He kicked off his heels and unclipped his stockings from their garters. The thong slid down his legs, exposing his thick erection. He left the corset, thigh-highs, and wig in place.

“On your back,” he commanded.

I hesitated, pride making me balk at the order. But Dante didn’t wait. He stepped into my space and lifted me in a brutal display of physical strength, depositing me on the bed. I grumbled at the manhandling, but willingly scooted toward the center of the mattress.

Dante crawled over me on all fours, caging me in place. He sat back on his heels to survey me. He licked his red lips, leaving them glistening and wet. He placed his hands on either side of my head, leaning close enough that his fake breasts pressed against my chest. “Now, where were we?”

He kissed his way down my body until he reached the dark purple bruise he’d left on my hip during our last encounter. He pressed his lips to the mark reverently before his teeth grazed the mark. I tensed as his fingers slipped lower, circling my entrance with a teasing pressure until he withdrew his hand. I experienced both relief and profound disappointment.

Reaching beneath a pillow, he pulled out a condom, tearing the wrapper open.

Panic seized me. I wasn’t entirely ready to surrender that final vulnerability. The terror must have shown on my face, because his lips curved into a knowing smile.

He rolled the condom over my aching erection before straddling me again. He steadied himself with a firm grip, his sharp nails brushing against my shaft before he lowered himself down one slow inch at a time. His tight heat enveloped me. As I sank into his body, he clenched around me. I gasped and thrust upward instinctively, chasing more of that exquisite pressure.