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“I’m going to push you past every single boundary you have until you’remine.”
“I already am.”
26
TEMPEST
There aremoments in life that feel like you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff. One little breeze—one touch, one gasp—will have you falling into the abyss.
And when youdofall, it’s like your mind focuses on individual senses. The sound of the air whooshing past your ears. The taste of the dust from the cliff wall behind you collecting on your tongue. The scent of your own fear as the adrenaline takes hold.
I might not literally be falling from a cliff when Dante scoops me into his arms and strides into the bedroom as he devours my lips. But try telling that to my senses as my reality splits into pieces.
The feel of his hands on my ass as my legs wrap around his hips. The thudding sound of my own pulse in my ears, mixed with the low baritone of his groans.
The taste of his mouth.
The scent of his body.
There’s no sight, at first because the bedroom is dark. Then, before my vision can adjust, it’s because he’s slipping something silky over my eyes, blindfolding me.
For a moment, my adrenaline spikes. My heart misses a beat, and the desire pooling between my thighs evaporates as a vicious darkness takes hold.
“You’re not there, little hurricane,” Dante growls in my ear, his weight shifting on the four-poster bed behind me as I perch on the edge. His hands tighten the blindfold a little more, sending my heart rate through the roof.
“You arenot. There,” he rasps against my neck. The mix of muscle memory panic swirling with the intense physical desire even smelling this man evokes in me is both breathtaking and unnerving at the same time.
Hot and cold.
Yin and yang.
Order and chaos.
“You’re here, with me,” he growls quietly.
I flinch, whimpering as his teeth nip at my earlobe. His hands take fistfuls of my dress, and I shiver as I feel him pull it up over my hips, my ass raising as the garment slips up my spine. He lifts my arms in slow, sensual, unhurried motions, slipping the dress off me. I hear it being tossed aside, feel his hands slide slowly back down my raised arms.
“Do. You. Trust. Me.”
Each word brushes against my ear like a painter flicking paint. Like a whispered prayer, or an incantation.
I can still feel the fear rippling inside of me, threatening to flay me alive. But the nearness of him and the rasp of his voice right in my ear keep me from flying away on the wind.
“Yes,” I choke through panted breaths.
“I told you I was going to push you, Tempest,” he growls quietly. “I warned you I was going to break down your boundaries. Are you sure you trust me?”
I nod again. “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
He lifts one of my arms, his hands sensually teasing up and down the inside of my forearm and wrist, so gently that I can feel the tension leaving my body as my eyes close under the blindfold.
And then something metallic clamps around that wrist with a sharp click.
Oh fuck.
“It’s still me,” Dante murmurs into my ear, stroking the other arm. “It’s just me, and it’s just you. And you know you trust me.”
