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I expect him to put me in my place like the men I’m used to would. But instead, he sets his glass down on the table, uncrosses his leg, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Idowant to fuck you.”
God, this man and his mouth.
Why does everything he says go straight to my ovaries?
He narrows his dark eyes at me, and my heart thunders in my chest. I try to force down the growing lump in my throat, but it only swells in size with the way he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole.
“Cat got your tongue, kitten?”
I clench my eyes shut and shake my head, willing myself to snap out from under his spell.
“We’re in a sex club, after all. I think we can be open about things like this, no?” he asks, and heat rises to my cheeks. “I’m willing to bet you’ve never been properly fucked. You’re young. Men your age have no idea what they’re doing. You probably fuck drunken frat boys who pound into you like gorillas until they’ve gotten their rocks off.”
Men my age?How old is he? He doesn’t look much older than me, with his dark hair and dark facial hair—not a gray hair in sight.
Dante stands up and circles the table until he’s standing alongside where I’m sitting. His crotch is inches from the side of my face. I stare straight ahead with my hands in my lap, avoiding what’s just beyond those pants like the fucking plague, aware my breathing is intensifying but knowing that if I avert my gaze even in the slightest, my eyes will land directly on his cock.
He reaches out and takes a few strands of my hair between his fingers, and I let him, unable to move.
“Giana, when was the last time someone touched you in a way that made your knees go weak?”
Never.
“When was the last time a man devoured that pussy like you were his last meal?”
Never.
“When was the last time”—he bends down until he’s level with my ear, tucking the strand behind it—“you wereproperlyfucked?” He whispers the last few words, and goose bumps line my arms.
“Never.”
“You’veneverbeen properly fucked?”
Giana sucks in a deep breath, her chest rising and then falling as she closes her eyes and rolls her head backward, exposing her long neck. A thin vein pulsates just below her skin and beats in a rigorous rhythm.
Everything about her is poetic. She’s all long, curvy, flowing lines and perfect, creamy skin. Swear to fuck, she was taken straight from some of the most beautiful sonnets in literature and patched together piece by tantalizing piece until she was an unfathomable piece of artwork. I’ve been with a lot of women…
But no one has ever made me feel feral.
No one has given me the carnal desire to fuck with just a look in their eyes.
Not until her.
“Use your words, kitten.”
I bet Giana is the type to hate pet names, but something about her made the word slip from my mouth effortlessly. And it fits. She’s just this small little thing, but I bet if I get under her skin enough, she’s got some fucking claws on her.
“I’ve never been fucked at all.”
The words hang in the air, and I stand and step backward, putting distance between us—between the growing need inside my fucking pants.
She’s a goddamn virgin.
The temperamental beast inside me flames to life, and I immediately want to sink my own claws into her, ravage her until she’s screaming my name at the top of her lungs, scratches down my back, her body writhing with desperation underneath mine as I claim every single inch of her.
I flick my gaze to her perfectly polished manicure, and I can’t help but imagine those red nails gripping my cock, pumping my shaft as she milks me for all I’m worth.
“Why?” I ask, because it’s the only word I can currently think to ask.
