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“I didn’t think I was going to wake up here.” He’s speaking more clearly this morning—I can see that the cuts on his lips have started to close up—but his face looks even more bruised in the daylight. “Everything last night felt like a dream.”
“It seemed more like a nightmare to me.” I rub one hand over my face, trying to clear away some of the bleariness of sleep. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Most of it.” Dante is looking at me with an expression that I can’t quite interpret. “Right now, I’m distracted by the fact that I woke up in a beautiful woman’s bed—and if Iamremembering things correctly, she was the one taking care of me last night.”
“Beautiful, hm?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “You,on the other hand, look like shit.”
I’m teasing, and I think he can hear it in my voice, but he winces. “Ifeellike shit, so it’s not a stretch to think I don’t look much better.” He pauses, reaching for the half-glass of water that’s still sitting on the nightstand by the bed. I see that wince cross his face again as he leans over to take a sip of it.
“I can help—” I start to get up, but Dante shakes his head, holding up his other hand.
“You’ve done plenty to help.” He sets the glass back down, laying his head back against his pillow as if the movement was exhausting. “I seem to remember you getting me in the shower last night and cleaning me up. Thatdefinitelyseemed like I was dreaming it. Although I’m naked this morning, so—” He pointedly lifts the edge of the blanket, glancing under it and then at me with a wry smirk on his face that can’t be comfortable, considering the state of his mouth.
“Your clothes were a mess.” I can feel a slight flush creeping up my cheeks. I couldn’t help glancing towards him when he pointed out his nudity, and I can see the shape of his cock under the blanket I tossed over him. It’s clear that he’s hard, and I try not to think about how close he is, how easily that blanket could be stripped away—the fact that he’snaked, and in my bed, and—
“Well, I’ve had worse things happen than waking up in a woman’s bed without clothes.” Dante shifts, moving closer, and I’m immediately aware of two things—one, that the space between us on the bed is so much more narrow than I initially thought…and two, that the blanket covering him has slipped down to his waist, exposing his broad chest and the muscled ridges of the beginning of his abs.
His abdomen is still purpled with bruises, but that does nothing to detract from how handsome he is. I lick my lips nervously, without thinking, and his gaze immediately drops to my mouth.
“I don’t think I could have gotten you dressed again.” I can feel my breathing quicken as he moves a little closer. “It didn’t have anything to do with—Dante—”
He reaches for me, and I shake my head. “You’re hurt,” I insist. “You might have cracked ribs, a broken nose—worse, maybe. I was worried you had a concussion, that you wouldn’t wake up. You’re in no condition to be doing—”
I break off, feeling the flush spread across my cheeks. Dante’s eyes have a wicked gleam in them, and I see his cock twitch under the blankets—as if I needed any further indication of what he’s thinking about. I know better than to let this go further—the last thing I should do is sleep with this man inmybed, in a place where I haven’t been with anyone since I was a teenager and my high-school boyfriend snuck in. As an adult, I always went to the other person’s place, if I went home with someone.
I’m not at all used to the condo being entirely mine yet. And I know that having sex with Dante here is an intimacy that goes beyond what happened last night. It’s something that I’m not sure I’m ready for with anyone—and definitely not with him.
“The rest of me seems to disagree with you.” That smirk is still playing on his mouth, and he reaches across that small bit of space between us, his fingers trailing along my inner arm. “Maybe I still need someone to take care of me this morning. Just for a little while.”
“Oh?” I know I should flatly tell him no, but somehow it’s impossible. His flirtatious tone feels like it’s brushing over my skin in the same way his fingers are, making my skin prickle, making me shiver. I want to touch him, but I wasn’t lying when I said he wasn’t in any condition to be fooling around. “I’m not going to be responsible for you hurting yourself even more, just because you want—”
“I’ll just lie back, then.” He lays back against the pillows, those green eyes twinkling at me with the mischief that I saw when he grabbed my phone that first night, an expression that seems so entirely at odds with someone who I know to be a dangerous mafia boss. “You cantake careof me however you please.”
I can’t help but steal another glance at his cock underneath the blanket. He’s stiffened even more, tenting the blanket, and I feel a throb of desire pulse through my veins. There’s something incredibly hot about what he’s suggesting—Dante just lying there at my mercy while I touch him, pleasure him however I see fit.
“I’m entirely at your mercy,” he murmurs, as if he just read my thoughts, and another shiver of pleasure washes over my skin.
He feels impossible to resist. Even when I’m trying, he manages to get back under my skin. The way he’s looking at me now, the desire in his eyes, the willingness to let me touch him as I please—it all makes me feel things that I would have never expected to feel for him. Things I can’t let myself examine too closely.
“Are you sure you’re not too hurt?” I tug the blanket down a little, just to the edge of his hips, and I see his cock jerk again underneath the fabric.
“Not where I want you touching me.” Dante’s voice has gone hoarse, his eyes darkening with need. He reaches down with one hand, tossing the blanket back, and I see him in all his naked glory.
Even as injured as he is, he’s so incredibly handsome. He looks like a battered sculpture, his cock jutting upwards, hard and thick. I can see pre-cum already pearling at the tip, and I see a droplet of it start to slide down his shaft as he throbs visibly when my gaze lands on him.
Hewantsme. This gorgeous, powerful man is in my bed,askingme to touch him. And I can’t help but draw it out a little more, even though I know it’s just a little cruel.
But after what he did to me at the shop, I think he deserves it. Just a little bit.
“Ask me.” I reach out, touching his thigh. There’s no bruising there, nothing to indicate it would hurt, and I think the sharp intake of breath that I hear has nothing to do with pain. “Ask me for what you want, Dante.”
From the look on his face, I feel certain he’s never heard that before. That no woman who’s gone to bed with him has ever madehimbeg. His lips part, his eyes hooded, his gaze so full of lust that I suspect it’s taking most of his self-control not to roll me onto my back, strip me bare, and fuck meexactlythe way I know he’s imagining. But I think he knows as well as I do that he’s not exactly physically capable of that right now.
“Emma.” His voice is a low, almost growling whisper. “Pleasetouch my cock. I’m so fucking hard—”
“I can see that.” My voice comes out breathier than I imagined it would. I reach out, my thumb brushing away the drop of pre-cum, and I feel his cock jerk under my touch, see the way his muscles flex the instant my fingers brush against his skin. I hear his groan—half in pleasure, half in pain, and I pull my hand back. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“You’re not. Or at least, if you are, it’s nothing I don’t want.” Dante’s hands curl into the sheets. “God, Emma—your hand, your mouth, I don’t care. I need to fucking come.”
