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His touch is doing everything to make my body respond in ways it hasn’t in so, so long it’s driving me insane.
I don't want him to stop.
When he turns me so my back is pressed against his chest, he lifts my hands up into the air, then comes down with me, tracing the line from my shoulders and down to my breasts and my hips. There he stays with one hand on my stomach and the other stroking the underside of my breast.
That feels so good and forbidden, I melt into him. He presses harder against me, allowing me to feel the hard bulge of his cock against my ass. He makes no attempt to hide it, which doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know him very well, or at all, but I don’t think I need to know him for any length of time to establish that he’s not the kind of man to hide what he wants. Or his reactions.
I’m not surprised either when he makes a point of grinding into me because I think he knows I’ve been permanently turned on by him since I got here. And he wants me to know he is, too.
I glance back at him, and he smiles. Then he turns me to face him again, cups my face with one hand, and guides me back to his lips for a kiss more breathless than the last.
His lips crushing against mine tightens my body with pleasure.
His touch and his kiss turn possessive and ravenous and all-consuming. They become so intense I have to squeeze my thighs together to tamp down the need roiling through me.
We kiss and kiss and kiss. Then we’re off the dance floor. He’s leading the way again with my hand in his and my lips swollen and tingling.
Dante takes me across the floor, and we walk through a door which leads into
an empty hallway.
From there, we enter another lounge-looking room, where not even the music can follow us. Then he’s kissing me again, his fingers tangling in my hair as he moves me into the hard concrete wall.
“Ten minutes,” he speaks hurriedly against my lips.
“Ten minutes?” I rasp when he moves to my neck and nibbles on the skin.
“Ten minutes, Printsessa. Ten minutes to taste you, then that’s it.”
Panic surges through me at the finality in his words. “That’s it?”
“It has to be. Let me taste you, Printsessa.” He slides his hands up my body to cup my breasts and pulls back just enough so we’re eye to eye. “Let me taste you.”
I nod, my mouth going dry and my head spinning from the thought of his mouth on me.Tasting me.
He slips the tiny black straps of my dress down my shoulders and exposes my breasts. The air on my naked flesh makes my already hard nipples tighter, but his eyes boring down on me turns them to glass.
“I’ve wanted to suck these all night,” he says, cupping my breasts so he can squeeze them. “And watch your face while I pleasure you.”
A moan falls from my lips as I can't seem to form words anymore. Dante smiles at my reaction, rolling over the peaks of my nipples with his thumbs.
I moan again, and he leans forward to glide his tongue along the curves of my breast, leaving trails of heated pleasure behind.
When he takes my right nipple into his mouth, all coherent thought leaves me and all I can hear are my soft whimpers and the sucking sound of his mouth.
He moves from one to the other to give each the same attention, and I feel like I’m in Heaven.
It takes mere seconds for the wetness that has gathered in my pussy to soak through my panties and leak down my thighs.
Instinctively, my hands move to his head, and I tangle my fingers through the spiky strands of his hair, keeping his lips working me.
He hungrily continues to suck, then runs his hands down to my thighs and lifts the hem of my dress.
He rolls it right up to my waist, and when he cups my sex, he feels how wet my panties are. That makes him stop his suckle and look up at me, his eyes wild and hungry.
“Fucking hell,” he husks, pressing into my clit through the lace of my panties. “You’re soaked.”
“I’m…” I don’t know what to say.
