Clawing at the towel around his hips, I feel it slump to our feet in surrender. Dante nudges his pelvis closer, prodding his heavy arousal into my belly. I’m thankful for a solid surface to lean into when my knees tremble and my spine presses to the wall. Rough hands hunt out my panties. Fingertips skim the damp fabric sending bolts of pleasure everywhere. He hooks a finger under the material and tugs hard. The sound of it tearing like paper turns me on more than it should. We both want this savage intimacy in the shadow of our rocky past.
The thin barrier separating my dignity from his demands disappears. When he finds me wet and swollen, his filthy grunt chases my heartbeat. He hurriedly guides my leg around his hip bone as I wrap my hands around his neck and prepare for complete fulfilment.
Just as I think he’s about to enter me, fingers weave into my hair and he yanks my face upward. “Is this what you like, beija flor?” His husky midnight tone raises the hairs on my nape.
I nod briskly.
“Not good enough,” he snaps, taunting me with his mouth.
“Yes… I like it,” the admission gusts free.
His forehead butts into mine, molding our damp skin together. “Say it slower,” he grits out. I struggle to focus when his lips tentatively brush over mine. “Say it slow enough to really mean it.”
In a rush of lust, I heave myself up against him. I conveniently forget how he shoved me from a helicopter—because he came back for me. He rescued me from the jungle, and he protected me from himself. This moonstruck rapture started the very evening he found me.
Dante has always saved me.
“I… want... this… Dante... Valez,” I reply with a ragged, controlled breath. My fingers delve into his damp roots. I tighten my leg around him. This time I’m the one holding him prisoner.
“Fuck!” he hisses before kissing me like I’m the twilight welcoming his ice white petals to bloom.
He captures my mouth and kisses me again and again. Ruthless and consuming. Uncontrolled and passionate. The force jars our teeth and bruises my lips as if it's punishment. Yet, it’s far from unpleasant.
We stay entwined, savoring the exotic rush and become each other’s oxygen. His heavy breathing spells out how much he truly craves this too. A fine line between pleasure and mania. I feel every inch of his slippery body burning into me, dying to deepen the connection. Ready to fuck.
This is either the stupidest thing I’ve ever done or the bravest. It’s too late for me now. All I see is him.
I slide my hand between us and choke his silky shaft with a firm warning grip. He sucks in sharply. “Promise me I’ll never meet el Fantasma again. Promise me that, Dante.” His wet hair sticks to me when our foreheads join.
“I can’t make that promise,” he replies on a growl. Snatching my other hand, he positions it over his heart. “But I can damn well try. This is Dante Valez. In here.” Then he lifts it to his mouth and sucks in my middle finger. Fireworks explode over every inch of me.
He curses under his breath when I shudder then hurriedly joins our bodies together. My inner muscles welcome him instantly. A bite of girth stretches me wide. The gratifying sting burns. I ignore the dark side of his soul and banish all thoughts of the hard-hearted killer. I cling onto him, matching thrust for thrust.
Even if I tried to fight against this psychosis, I couldn’t. There’s no way a girl like me could escape the king of the jungle. Under the hallowed moon, one man’s soul bleeds for his secretive past. El Fantasma's relentless force rules, and Dante’s exotic seduction conquers. I worship and forgive him, accepting life’s plan for me.
This was meant to happen.
It’s serendipity.
Both of his hands secure my ass, elevating me to his eye level. Our rhythm starts out slow at first, then picks up the pace to frantic. “Why do I need to fuck you so much?” His voice strains on the cusp of a savage roar.
The tempo is so intense that my spine wallops into the timbre behind me. The arousal knotted inside me unwinds. A groan slashes the hot air. This time it's my strangled moan that sings louder than the cicadas. My legs curl around his hips. If it wasn’t for the perfect angle hitting my insides, I’d swear I was going to topple over.
He grunts like he can’t, or won’t, ever stop pounding into me. “Say my name,” he bites out, crashing our foreheads together.
I don’t have to think twice about it. The secret name rips free. “Dante.”
His mouth plunders mine like he’s trying to extract the name from my tongue with force. He ruts into me with an aggressive snarl. “Fuck, I love how you say it.” The rasp of his Latino accent shocks me into a spine-tingling, eye rolling climax. “Never forget it, beija flor.”
This orgasm is so different from the last time. It goes on and on. Every cell in my body quivers. The nuclei adapt to the vibrations and welcome Dante as the catalyst to their awakening. I scream out his name, unable to contain myself. I’ve never experienced such a soul snatching orgasm before. Never.
With another hard, furious thrust, he jerks inside me and drops his teeth to my shoulder. After a few seconds of panting, he steadies me in his arms and carries me to the bed.
Nuzzling his nose into my wet hair, he owns me with a gravelly whisper, “I’m sorry for everything, Iris Kitson.”
7
What’s my fantasy?
