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But when I thought about the sex we’d just had, I realized it was more than that. Dante gave me options he hadn’t before. He gave me a gift that night. He gave me control. Up until the last few minutes, I set the pace; I made the decisions. Yes, maybe he hadn’t made love to me like I’d asked. But maybe he had in his own way. He was always honest with me. He said he didn’t know how to be romantic but giving up a sliver of his hard won control was enough of a gesture for me. And that admission that he’d never let another woman touch him the way I had? That alone was the sexiest, most romantic thing he could have told me.
Dante recovered enough to turn onto his back. I expected him to make his exit soon. No, notexpected: I knew that he would. It’s how he did things and I braced myself for it.
I curled against him, ready to take advantage of the time with him while I had it. I sighed with contentment when his hand dropped to my waist and the other smoothed comforting circles over my back. I relaxed against him, basking in his warmth as I anticipated the inevitable cold of being pushed away.
We lay that way for several minutes. Dante was quiet, but he wasn’t in a hurry to leave.
“Thank you,” I whispered to his cheek as I dropped a kiss along his jawline.
He grunted. “For what?”
“All of this.” I waved my hand around the room again, indicating the melting candles and the chilled champagne. “I know you didn’t do it yourself, but as you said, you set it in motion, and it’s the thought that counts.” I blushed in the darkness. “And what came after...”
A rumble vibrated through Dante’s chest. “As long as you’re happy.”
