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“Those two are a staple at every event,” Dante leans down to whisper in my ear, and for the first time I realize just how much taller he is by how much he’s forced to bend. “We’re going to go somewhere a bit quieter.”
He unlinks our arms and grabs my hand to single file, leading us through the swarm of people and out a different exit.
Our palms are pressed together, his a mixture of both smooth and calloused skin. I move my fingers slightly and feel an even bumpier section of skin. Looking down, I realize his hand and fingers are swollen—as if he punched something…or someone.
I decide not to ask right now; chances are I won’t be able to hear over the loud music, and honestly, in my experience, men don’t typically tell the truth anyway. Still, I want to know why the man leading me around has busted-up knuckles.
We go through a clearing that leads us into a hallway that is identical to the entrance hall of the building, with the same black and purple walls and beautifully framed artwork with minimal lighting. The hallway is cold, such a drastic dip in temperature from the heat in the crowded ballroom.
Dante leads us to step through a black lace curtain and into an offshoot from the hallway, and my skin prickles as an unexplainable menacing feeling washes over me.
We’re met with a large glass window that overlooks a large bedroom.
With three people inside it.
Each of them stripping off one another’s clothes.
“Sh-should we be here?” I sputter the words out, and Dante lets go of my hand, his eyes on the three people in front of us.
I immediately sense his absence, and a daunting pit grows in my stomach.
He lets out a deep, carefree laugh, and I shrink backward. “What do you think this viewing area is for, Ms. Car—”
“Giana,” I correct him, but he doesn’t acknowledge his error; he doesn’t reply at all.
He just continues staring straight ahead. The few times our eyes have met tonight felt inexpressible, like we’re two magnetic forces unable tonotattract each other. Like, by design, we’re just meant to be near each other. But right now, he isn’t giving me even a sliver of his attention.
“Do you see the way he’s watching the two of them?” Dante nods his head toward a blond man with long hair tied back away from his face. “His eyes full of lust, his chest heaving. He isn’t afraid to look at both of them. He’s unashamed of his sexuality and the fact that he loves seeing his wife getfuckedby other men. It doesn’t make him feel like less of a man. And it shouldn’t.”
My breath hitches as I gulp down the shock. I figured we were going down a road like this, but I didn’t realize there was a married couple inside those four walls. I just assumed they all met here and were experimenting. I could never even imagine a potential husband sharing me.
There are two men—the blond man, and a man with dark, graying hair. There’s one woman who separates them, and she’s gorgeous and captivating, with a jet-black pixie cut and flawless skin. Tattoos line the length of her arms, and she looks between her men as if she’s sizing them up, deciding which one she wants to touch first.
I feel Dante’s eyes on me, his stare heating me from the inside out and twisting my stomach.
“Talk to me, Giana. What are you feeling right now?”
The woman finishes pulling down her husband’s pants, freeing his very large, very hard cock from the fabric. It springs to life, and I let out a gasp as he wraps his fingers around himself and pumps, his eyes glued to his wife as she struts over to the dark-haired man and runs her palms down his chest until she has a firm grip on his erection.
“I’m…” My pulse quickens to the point of a steady galloping, my temples throbbing in anticipation.
I jump as Dante’s touch catapults me back to the here and now. He places two fingers under my jaw and guides my face to the side until I’m facing him.
A playful smile spreads across his handsome face, one side of his mouth tilting up just a bit farther than the other, his eyes gleaming. “You’rewhat, Giana?”
He moves to stand behind me, and he’s so close, his body heat is radiating off him and onto my back. He runs his fingers through my hair before taking it all and putting it over one of my bare shoulders. His face finds its way to the side of my neck, and his breath against my ear causes goose bumps to break out all along my skin.
“I’m—I’ve… I’ve never seen anything like this,” I admit, looking down at my feet.
“And what do youfeel?” He gently bites down on my ear after he asks, and I swear lightning strikes through my body from his lips on my naked skin.
The cadence of his words is haunting, hitting me somewhere deep within that I don’t think I’ve ever been aware of.
I can’t inhale a deep breath, not with him this close to me. He moves his mouth next to my ear again, and his hot breath makes me shiver.
“Use your words, Giana.”
“I feel like…like my body is on fire.”
