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Authors: Jodi Redford
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the firm, sinful pressure of his mouth on hers. A shaky whimper escaped her. Dante took that as a convenient invitation to thrust his tongue past her lips.
She’d experienced plenty of kisses in her life. Not one of them came close to competing with the consuming hunger inherent in Dante’s. She could taste his desire. Feel his single-minded focus on her. It swept her up and left her breathless. His fingers tunneled insistently in her hair, angling her head back for a deeper exploration of her mouth. His tongue coaxed hers into play, and she eagerly obliged. God, she wanted to eat him up with a spoon. And that made absolutely no sense, considering how arrogant, obnoxious… chauvinistic… and… and…
She lost her train of thought as his roving hands massaged her breasts through her top. Inspired to do her own exploring, she smoothed her palms over Dante’s broad shoulders, trying to drag him closer and tug his flannel shirt off at the same time.
He pulled back, revealing an expression dark with passion. “There’s not enough room on this chair for us both. How about if we continue this on the couch?”
“My bed is bigger.” The suggestion popped free before she could halt it. Grinding her teeth at her loud-mouthed inner slut, she waited for Dante to smirk and lob an appropriately lewd crack at her. Instead, he scooped her into his arms, knocking the bag of Brussels sprouts onto the ground. He was careful with her ankle, something she appreciated—though honestly, she didn’t even register any discomfort anymore. Likely the improvised icepack had done the trick. That, or lust had blindsided her to the point all other sensations had skulked into the farthest recesses of her consciousness.
He walked down the short hallway and paused between the two open bedroom doors. “Which one?”
She pointed to the doorway to the left of them, and he strode inside the small room. He carefully arranged her on top of the patchwork quilt before stretching out beside her. His mouth found the tender spot beneath her ear and quickly discovered how easy it was to reduce her into a quivery, gasping wreck. She tore at his shirt again, desperate to touch warm flesh rather than flannel. This time he obeyed her wishes and released the top few buttons before growing impatient and yanking the garment over his head and tossing it aside. She snuggled against him, a happy purr leaking free.
He groaned and coasted his fingers along the curve of her spine. “Fuck, that’s sexy. Do you always purr like that?”
“Usually only when I’m in the middle of a heat cycle.”
His hand slid beneath her top and cupped her breast through the thin mesh of her bra. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb, and she arched into him. A feral growl rumbled from deep in his chest. “I wanna get you nekkid.”
“Oh God, yes .” So much for keeping her inner slut out of this.
Thankfully he required no further prompting and made short work divesting her of her top and bra. The rapt way he stared at her breasts brought a fresh surge of moisture between her legs. She whimpered as his hand splayed over her mound.
“I don’t even need to touch you to know how fucking wet you are.”
She didn’t doubt it. The clear evidence of her arousal scenting the air made it pretty damn impossible to miss. With Dante’s supersensitive nose, it was probably a thousand times more noticeable. She got her verification when he buried his face in the valley of her cleavage and inhaled with a lusty moan. His pupils dilated, making his eyes look exceptionally dark and predatory.
Witnessing the raw, animalistic hunger riding his features speared a sharp spike of excitement through her, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded. Plumping her breasts with his hands, he sucked her nipple between his teeth and laved it into a stiff, turgid peak with his tongue. Gasping, she wiggled on the mattress, shamelessly undulating against the hand he’d kept wedged between her legs. Tears leaked
She’d experienced plenty of kisses in her life. Not one of them came close to competing with the consuming hunger inherent in Dante’s. She could taste his desire. Feel his single-minded focus on her. It swept her up and left her breathless. His fingers tunneled insistently in her hair, angling her head back for a deeper exploration of her mouth. His tongue coaxed hers into play, and she eagerly obliged. God, she wanted to eat him up with a spoon. And that made absolutely no sense, considering how arrogant, obnoxious… chauvinistic… and… and…
She lost her train of thought as his roving hands massaged her breasts through her top. Inspired to do her own exploring, she smoothed her palms over Dante’s broad shoulders, trying to drag him closer and tug his flannel shirt off at the same time.
He pulled back, revealing an expression dark with passion. “There’s not enough room on this chair for us both. How about if we continue this on the couch?”
“My bed is bigger.” The suggestion popped free before she could halt it. Grinding her teeth at her loud-mouthed inner slut, she waited for Dante to smirk and lob an appropriately lewd crack at her. Instead, he scooped her into his arms, knocking the bag of Brussels sprouts onto the ground. He was careful with her ankle, something she appreciated—though honestly, she didn’t even register any discomfort anymore. Likely the improvised icepack had done the trick. That, or lust had blindsided her to the point all other sensations had skulked into the farthest recesses of her consciousness.
He walked down the short hallway and paused between the two open bedroom doors. “Which one?”
She pointed to the doorway to the left of them, and he strode inside the small room. He carefully arranged her on top of the patchwork quilt before stretching out beside her. His mouth found the tender spot beneath her ear and quickly discovered how easy it was to reduce her into a quivery, gasping wreck. She tore at his shirt again, desperate to touch warm flesh rather than flannel. This time he obeyed her wishes and released the top few buttons before growing impatient and yanking the garment over his head and tossing it aside. She snuggled against him, a happy purr leaking free.
He groaned and coasted his fingers along the curve of her spine. “Fuck, that’s sexy. Do you always purr like that?”
“Usually only when I’m in the middle of a heat cycle.”
His hand slid beneath her top and cupped her breast through the thin mesh of her bra. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb, and she arched into him. A feral growl rumbled from deep in his chest. “I wanna get you nekkid.”
“Oh God, yes .” So much for keeping her inner slut out of this.
Thankfully he required no further prompting and made short work divesting her of her top and bra. The rapt way he stared at her breasts brought a fresh surge of moisture between her legs. She whimpered as his hand splayed over her mound.
“I don’t even need to touch you to know how fucking wet you are.”
She didn’t doubt it. The clear evidence of her arousal scenting the air made it pretty damn impossible to miss. With Dante’s supersensitive nose, it was probably a thousand times more noticeable. She got her verification when he buried his face in the valley of her cleavage and inhaled with a lusty moan. His pupils dilated, making his eyes look exceptionally dark and predatory.
Witnessing the raw, animalistic hunger riding his features speared a sharp spike of excitement through her, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded. Plumping her breasts with his hands, he sucked her nipple between his teeth and laved it into a stiff, turgid peak with his tongue. Gasping, she wiggled on the mattress, shamelessly undulating against the hand he’d kept wedged between her legs. Tears leaked
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