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"Begging looks good on you," I whisper. "I should keep you like this."

"Careful." His fingers dig into my hips. "I’m not a patient man."

"Mm, and here I thought you were a very patient man."

"Not tonight." His mouth drags along my jaw. "Move, or I'll flip you over and empty half this water onto the floor."

I smile against his temple. "Promises, promises."

"Three seconds, little rose."

"Or what?"

"One."

I don't make it to two. I rise until I almost lose him, then sink back down in a slow, torturous descent that sends a wave of water lapping over the rim.

We both groan, and I start to rock, water sloshing with every roll of my hips.

Dante pushes his hands into my hair and pulls my mouth down to his, kissing me while I ride him.

"Look at you," he breathes against my lips. "Riding what's yours."

I swallow his words because I am close, and he can tell. He plants his feet against the tub and drives up into me, and my moans grow faster and louder.

"That's it," he growls. "Let me hear you coming on my cock."

His name rips from my lips, and I come violently on his cock, shaking and clenching around him. He follows with a deep, vibrating groan into my neck, his arms crushing me to his chest.

For a long moment neither of us moves.

Lifting my head, I look around and laugh.

The bathroom looks like a tidal wave hit it.

Water and bubbles are all over the floor. The bathmat is soaked through. There are even soap suds sliding down the mirror over the sink.

Dante gives me one of his beautiful smiles, then leans his head back against the edge of the tub and closes his eyes. His broad inked chest rises and falls, and his expression is that of a very content, happy man.

I let my body soften against his and rest my head against his shoulder. The water is starting to cool around us, but I don't want to move. I don't want to break this closeness and the feeling of him still inside me.

With his arms around me, he presses his lips to the top of my head and keeps them there.

I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat under my ear, and think about how strange this is.

Because I was forced to be here.

And now I'm sitting in a bathtub with the man who took me, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

47

DANTE

Sunny is stretched out on top of me, her cheek resting on my chest, and her fingers drawing lazy shapes on my shoulder. The water is lukewarm, but her whole slippery length is pressed against my body, and I don’t want to break the contact of skin on skin. Because there is nothing on Earth like a naked Sunny lying on top of me in the bath.

I could stay here forever and always be content.

“Tell me about your mom and your dad,” she murmurs.