Chapter Twenty-Nine

Adele

Dante's answering growl is a sound of pure, masculine satisfaction, and then his lips are on mine, claiming me with a kiss that is both fierce and tender. He rips the shirt clean off my back, and I melt into him, my hands fisting in his hair, holding him close as he devours my mouth, his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with mine in a delicious, heady dance.

His hands return to my ass with a desperate urgency that matches my own. I tense in anticipation, expecting him to spank me, but he doesn't.

"Dante," I gasp, my head falling back as his lips trail down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my collarbone. "I want . . ."

"What, tesoro? " he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "What do you want?"

I push against his chest, urging him to step back. He complies, his eyes dark and questioning as I sink to my knees before him, my hands reaching for the buckle of his belt. "I want you undone."

My fingers tremble slightly as I work to free him from the confines of his pants. The moment he springs out, hot, hard, and so fucking big, I suppress a gasp, then stick out my tongue and lick his shaft slowly from the root up to the large mushroom head. My eyes flutter closed, and I moan, enjoying the feel of the satiny skin and the salty taste of precum gathering at his slit.

"Christ, Adele." His groan is tortured. I open my eyes to watch his tongue peek between his lips, his fingers tangle in his hair as his head falls back in pleasure.

This . . . this is the Dante I want. Mindless, unhinged. I release his cock with a pop, then switch off my last rational brain cell, the one telling me to reconsider my next words.

"Fuck my mouth, Dante. I want you to fill my throat."

Dante's head snaps forward in disbelief, his eyes wide and unfocused. "Fuck, Adele O'Shea," he groans, "You are going to be the death of me."

He takes a few steps back, and for a moment, I think he's trying to leave, but he only goes to the panel at the door. He switches on all the lights and raises the blinds so the room is bathed with light. Then he turns on the heavy metal band to a volume so high that I flinch.

"You okay?" he asks.

I nod, glancing around as if searching for the hidden speakers. "It's really loud—"

"Do you trust me?"

"I do."

"Now, come here and put your mouth on me."

Everything inside me tightens at his tone, and I scramble to my feet.

"On your fucking knees, Addy."

My heart pounds like a solo drum while the sultry voice in my head goads me on. You wanted him this way, Addy. So fucking take him.

I fall back on my knees and crawl to him. Once I'm near enough, he slides his hand along my jaw and feeds his cock to me. The moment I wrap my lips around him and suck, I feel him tense. His hand slips into my hair and grips it tight.

I swirl my tongue around his frenulum, relishing the answering moan and jerking of his hips, which involuntarily pushes him deeper into my mouth.

His feel and taste are addictive—smooth, hot, and tangy, serving my mouth with a sensory feast that sends my senses reeling. I suck gently, stroking him with my tongue. I watch him through my eyelashes, loving the intense pleasure etched on his face.

I might be on my knees taking his cock, but fuck, this is heady. Dante is so responsive, it feels like every single lick and suck produces a different response altogether.

I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat. The moment he does, Dante lets out a feral groan. It's a sound of torture and surrender that goes straight to my clit. But instead of driving deeper, Dante pulls back.

"Fuck, baby, take it slow, okay?" His voice is tight and rough, and I know he's struggling to do the same.

I don't want him to take it slow. I can't afford to, not if I want to drive him insane. He's so big that my jaw is bound to fall off before I can finish him off.

So instead of doing as he says, I wrap one arm around his thighs and cup his balls with the other. I relax my throat and let him all the way in until my chin brushes against the balls I'm gently fondling.

"Fuuuuck, Adele!" Dante bucks against me as if unable to control himself

I gag violently, but I don't pull off right away, instead letting my throat fight to expel him. His tortured groan drowns out the heavy metal band, and his fists tighten involuntarily in my hair. The resulting pain in my scalp makes me moan around him. When I start to feel lightheaded, I pull away from him and take a few ragged breaths.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Addy!" Dante looks like a man way past his limits. His mouth is slack with lust, his hands tangling in my hair to guide me closer to where he needs me most. "I get it. You want me off the rails. Give me a fucking safe word. Now."

"Red Wine," I whisper, not even having to think about it.

His answer is a deep, guttural groan that sends a pulse of heat between my legs.

"Come here, then." Suddenly, he takes control, or rather, he loses it. His hands grip my head, holding me in place as he thrusts deep into my mouth. I can feel the head of his cock reaching past the barrier of my throat, and the sound of my own gags filling the room makes me wetter.

He starts to move faster, his hips pumping as he drives in and out of my mouth. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, and drool fills my mouth and spills down the corners of my lips only makes it all the better for him to fuck my throat.

The size and girth of him, the way he fills me completely, the way he uses my throat for his pleasure drives my lust to unbearable heights. When I start to taste more of the salty tang of his precum, I hear his groans get louder, and his muscles coil tighter, I know he's going to come soon.

I'm not so far off too. My pussy throbs, clit so swollen I know I'll shatter with a few strokes of my fingers. I slip a hand between my folds and start to rub, my moan of pleasure vibrating onto his cock.

"Hands on my fucking wrists," Dante barks. Heart pounding at his sharp command, I immediately wrap my hands around the thick wrists on either side of my head.

"Squeeze me if you need a break," he instructs curtly, and then he's dragging my mouth on and off his stiff cock. The fire between my legs rages on, my nipples hard as diamonds. With nowhere else for my pent-up lust to go, all I can do is squirm and take his rough treatment, wound as tight as a bow, eager for his pleasure, his orgasm, as if tasting his release would somehow bring me mine.

And then he's there. With a final savage thrust, he holds himself still, his cock buried deep in my mouth. I feel every single pulse, the way his cock jerks in time to his guttural sounds as he comes straight down my throat. I moan as I take all of him in, every last drop.

When he finally pulls away, I'm left gasping for breath and trembling, but so is Dante. I look up at him, and I can see the raw need all over him still.

"What the fuck, Adele?" he growls, his eyes black pools of lust. He looks like a stalking predator might do just before that final leap at their prey. "Just how greedy can you get?"

I let my gaze drop to his still-hard cock. "I should be asking you that, Dante. You're still hard as a rock after that. "

I lean forward to lick off the cum dribbling off his tip. And I finally taste him. Thick and creamy. Salty sweet. I could certainly get used to it.

Dante holds me close as he slowly pulls me to my feet. My breasts drag across the hard planes of his torso, sparking fireworks as I go. He looks at me like he wants to devour me whole. And I know that's exactly what he's going to do.

Once back on my feet, I lean and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His rigid cock pulses against my stomach. "Take me. Hard," I whisper hoarsely.

"Sure, you don't need a break?" Dante teases me softly.

"No," I moan.

Dante lifts me up, his hands gripping my ass as he carries me to the bed. He lays me down, then settles his big body between my spread thighs. He takes my mouth again, his tongue tangling with mine until I'm wantonly sliding my wet folds along his thighs and moaning as sensation ripples out from my clit.

And then he's slowly sliding inside me, inch by glorious inch, until he fills me up completely. I gasp, my nails digging into his back as I stretch to take all of him.

Still, I crave more.

"Harder," I beg, my voice strained with need.

Dante growls, and then his hips are snapping into mine with a force that leaves me breathless.

Then he wraps my right leg around his waist while bending my left leg so my calf is pressed right against his ripped torso. I'm completely open and vulnerable to his hard thrusts in a way I've never been.

His eyes never leave mine as he thrusts so deep that all I can do is gasp and squirm. "This hard enough, baby?"

I nod, moaning brokenly.

His fingers stroke my hip, thumb right over my hypersensitive scar, and I tremble. Then he starts pressing in deep, past the point of pleasure, past soothing tender muscles. Hard enough to hurt. To bruise.

"And now?"

"Fuck. Dante!" My leg spasms around his waist even as my pussy clenches around his cock. Identical responses, one produced by intense pleasure, the other, searing pain, transforming the experience into something ethereal as I race toward my release.

He doesn't let up, slamming hard and hitting spots inside me that make me tremble and jerk while his wicked thumb presses in harder and harder.

I lose my mind, caught in a flood of endorphins. I don't realize how much I'm screaming, begging him to end my torture. To never stop torturing me. To fuck me until I can't feel anything beyond how hard he's making me come.

And then I'm right there at the point of no return as the orgasm explodes in me. It's been swelling inside me and threatening to consume me since the moment we started arguing, and now I can only sob as he fucks me through it until I'm breathless and spent.

Dante shudders and follows me over the edge, his own release coming hot and fast.

We lay there for a moment, our bodies entwined, breathing in short, ragged gasps. His heart pounds hard against my breasts in a rhythm that feels identical to mine.

He rearranges us so I'm fully tucked under him, then supports some of his weight on an elbow. Other than that, he makes no move to get off me. Instead, his fingers start to stroke my bruised, still-spasming thigh.

And I'm terrified by how much I loved the way it hurt.