by T. K. Leigh
I returned my gaze to him, watching as he stepped back, his dark eyes searing my skin. My lips parting, I attempted to say something, anything. Just as Dante had done during our very first meeting, he’d rendered me completely speechless. I had a feeling he always would.
“Why did I ever walk away from you?” I mused in a low voice.
“It was what fate wanted,” he answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Like you said, if you didn’t walk away, we never would have come down from the clouds.”
“Maybe we weren’t meant to. Maybe we belong in the clouds. Maybe this is fate’s way of repaying us for all the bad shit we’ve been through.”
“Says the girl who thought fate was a load of bull just a few months ago.”
“What can I say?” I shrugged as the elevator dinged. I leaned toward him, trailing my fingers up his torso, taking my time as I savored the feeling of the taut muscles that lay beneath his button-down shirt. His chest heaved in response to my touch. I swiftly grabbed his tie, tugging him into the elevator car, my gaze trained on him as I walked backwards, stopping when I hit the wall. “You made me a believer,” I finished just as the doors closed, leaving us completely alone.
His lips curved as a feral look clouded his eyes. He gripped my wrist, forcing me to let go of his tie. Before I could say a word, he brought my body against his…hard, fast, desperate. I gasped, a tremor snaking through me as he lowered his head toward my neck. His tongue met my skin, his motions demanding, powerful, aggressive, but endearing at the same time. He held me as if he would never let go. He inhaled my scent as if he’d searched for months for the aroma. He tasted my skin as if it were the only thing that could quench his thirst.
My eyes fluttered into the back of my head, a tiny moan escaping as I curved into him, desperate to feel even more of him. I didn’t care that we were in an elevator that still hadn’t started moving. I wanted…no, needed this man now.
Suddenly, Dante released his hold on me and stepped back. I flung my eyes open to see a salacious, sly smile building on his mouth. With a wink, he turned from me, completely oblivious to the panting mess he’d turned me into. Or perhaps this was all part of his game. If there was one thing I’d learned about Dante, he loved the anticipation. And as frustrating as it was, I loved it, too. It made the end result all that more satisfying.
He fished a keycard out of his wallet, then inserted it into a slot in the panel. Once he pressed the button for the fourteenth floor, he spun back around, the sudden movement causing me to straighten in surprise. His heated gaze raked over every inch of my body as he loomed over me. The way he looked at me always made me feel raw and exposed, like he was peering into my soul. Tonight was no different. But for once, I wanted him to see everything, to know all of me. I wanted him to see the heartache I’d struggled with over the past few months. The regret that constantly plagued me as I considered whether I’d made the right decision in leaving him. The frustration that had pervaded my life as I tried to do everything in my power to stand on my own two feet so we could finally find our way back to each other.
“Kiss me, Dante,” I begged softly as his mouth inched closer and closer to mine, but remained just out of reach.
“With pleasure, Eleanor.”
Each second that passed as he slowly lowered his lips seemed to stretch, every part of me tingling with need, the anticipation unraveling any composure I had. Finally, our lips met. I sighed into him, his kiss the only thing in my life that felt right, his arms the only place that had ever felt like home.
Deepening the kiss, I raked my hands up his chest, tugging him harder into me. He groaned, his hands falling to my hips. Not caring about where we were or who could see us, he lifted me, hiking the skirt of my dress up as he pressed me against the elevator wall, thrusting between my legs.
“Dante,” I moaned, throwing my head back as his lips trailed a fiery path down my neck, his fingers grazing my breasts. His light touch was at complete odds with the ravenous and greedy way he kissed me. It erased all thoughts regarding the complications that could potentially jeopardize a relationship between us. My father. His father. The distance. The lies. The secrets. All that had disappeared from my mind. All that mattered was this moment. And at this moment, I needed Dante. On my skin. Over my body. In my heart.
The elevator slowed to a stop and he reluctantly helped me lower my legs to the floor, leaving a deep, quick kiss on my lips. Once the doors opened, he grabbed my hand, leading me down a long corridor before coming to a stop in front of a door toward the end of the hallway. He removed his keycard and inserted it, unlocking the door. He opened it, standing back to allow me to enter in front of him.
Any other time, I would have taken a moment to admire the opulence and comfort surrounding me in the luxurious suite that probably cost more per night than I made in a month. I didn’t care about the breathtaking view of the Hollywood Hills outside the balcony, or the oversized hot tub, or the bottle of champagne sitting on the wet bar. Dante loved foreplay, but there was a place and time for that. That place was not here, and the time was not now. Not after so long.
The door clicked behind him, the loud echo amplified by the anticipation inside me. I spun around, my eyes narrowed on him with an insatiable hunger. Not a word was spoken as I stepped out of my shoes and sauntered toward him, doing my best not to limp. I gingerly raised myself onto my toes, taking his earlobe between my teeth, nibbling and pulling.
“Fuck me, Dante,” I murmured, my voice raspy and low, seductive. His breath hitched and he crushed my body against his.
“What happened to the Eleanor I met on a plane to Rome?” he asked coyly, brushing my hair over my shoulder. “The Eleanor who couldn’t even look in my eyes when I asked her what she liked and didn’t like in the bedroom?” He leaned closer, his two-day scruff rubbing against my neck. “The Eleanor who turned a bright shade of red when I asked her if she touched herself?” He pulled back, gazing down at me with a salacious smile.
“Thanks to you, that Eleanor is gone,” I answered in an even tone. “I know what I like, what I don’t. I know what I want. And right now, I want you to fuck me, to give me every reason to never walk away from you again. To remind me exactly of what I’ll be missing if I do.” I leaned in, running my tongue against his jawline, then took his earlobe between my teeth, tugging. “To claim me as yours.”
Growling, he gripped my hair, yanking my head back. The sudden movement made me yelp. I breathed through the ache, my need for him only increasing with each second that passed. He dragged his lips across my neck, his teeth lightly grazing my skin.
“Harder,” I begged as raw need filled me.
He loosened his grip on my hair and I met his conflicted eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t—”
I pressed a finger to his lips, hushing him. “Shh. I love you, Dante. And I know you love me. I know you need this. I need this, too. I don’t want to be in a relationship where sex is the same every single time. I want you to fuck me with reckless abandon, then pull me into your arms and whisper the most endearing and loving things in my ear as you give me that love. I want you to mark me, to see that wild look that comes over you as you drive harder and deeper than you ever have before. Then I want to feel your soft kisses as your lips feather across my shoulder blades, your touch barely there.” I reached up, running my fingers down the line of his brow, cupping his cheek. “I want you to grip my head harder as your cock grows bigger and bigger in my mouth, making me take every single inch of you.” I pressed a soft kiss against his lips, biting the bottom one. “Then I want you to brush the hair away from my eyes as we lay next to each other, your voice murmuring how much you love me the last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep.”
I stepped back, lowering the zipper of my dress and allowing it to pool at my feet. “I love you, Dante, and that means every side of you. I love the dominating man who takes what he
wants when he wants it. I love the sweet man who begged me with everything he had to stay, to not give up on us.” I approached him, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging it off his shoulders. “I never have, and I never will.”
When I reached for his tie, about to loosen it, he clutched my forearm with a power I wasn’t quite expecting. His eyes burning with raw need, his chest heaved as he stared at me in the simple nude bra and matching panties I wore. When I dressed for work today, I didn’t exactly plan on ending my evening in a luxurious suite with Dante. Otherwise, I would have picked out different underwear.
He palmed my back, our bodies colliding. I could feel his erection twitching against my stomach. “God, I’ve missed you, mia cara.” His hand roamed from my back to my side, trailing the line of my panties, his fingers brushing against my thighs. Pressing my lips to his, I ran my hands through his hair, tugging and pulling at it, making no attempt to be remotely gentle. “And it appears you’ve missed me quite a bit, too, haven’t you?”
He grazed my panties, my wetness building more than it already had. Lifting the material, his finger ghosted against my heat. I panted, grabbing his wrist and forcing his hand farther between my legs.
“Don’t tease, Dante. It’s been too long.”
“Whenever you pleasured yourself over the past few weeks, did you think of my fingers touching your swollen clit?” he murmured, his lips lingering on my neck.
“Yes,” I squeaked out, spreading my legs slightly to give him better access. I was instantly reminded of our visit to the tea room at the foot of the Spanish Steps when he nearly drove me to orgasm at our table with just the brush of his fingers against me. It was remarkable how far we’d come since that day, that time, that place. Back then, I fully intended to have a one-night stand, then never see him again. But fate knew differently. She knew Dante was exactly what I needed in my life. And perhaps I was exactly what Dante needed in his.
“What else did you think about?”
“Your fingers plunging inside me.”
“Like this?” He toyed with my folds, my breathing increasing, then pushed a finger inside.
I threw my head back as sparks ignited. My legs weakened. I struggled to maintain my balance as I slowly became unhinged with every thrust of his fingers.
“What else?” His body tightened, his jaw clenching.
“You taking me from behind,” I panted as my eyes fluttered into the back of my head. I’d lost all control of my body and mind, a puppet to Dante’s touch.
Instantly, he removed his fingers from inside me and spun me around, forcing my stomach against the back of the couch. He yanked my panties down my legs, anticipation bubbling in my core as I lay completely exposed to him. Yet it made me feel powerful, safe, strong.
His hands brushed between my thighs, running my wetness all over me. I moaned, pulsing against him. I spent the past three months aching for this man’s touch, his body, his love. I imagined his husky voice murmuring all the sensual and erotic things he wanted to do to me. I’d craved that feeling of euphoria only he could give me. Now that he was here, that he was mine, I was desperate for him in every way imaginable. I wanted to lose myself in him, to drown in his waters, to burn in his flame.
“Do you like that, Eleanor?” He fisted my hair, tugging my head back.
“More.”
He leaned over me, his rough chin scraping against my shoulder blades. “Beg for me, Eleanor.”
If I was turned on before, it was nothing compared to now, hearing his demanding voice become gruff, his grip on me tightening, marking me, possessing me…consuming me.
“Please, Dante,” I said through my heavy breaths. “I need you to fuck me.”
A hiss escaped his lips, followed by the sound of his belt coming undone. I tried to reel in all the sensations flowing through me when he pressed himself to me, his erection rubbing against my backside.
“God, I want to fuck you so bad right now,” he growled, his lips on my neck, his hands roaming my body. “I’ve thought about little else over the past few months, about when I’d feel this perfect pink pussy clench around me as I drive inside you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” I panted, unhinged. I ached to feel him, for him to fill me in a way no other man ever had, in a way no one would ever be able to again.
“For you to reach your breaking point,” he whispered into my ear. “And you’re not quite there yet.” He nipped my neck, then stepped back, a chill washing over me from his absence.
“Seriously?!” I exclaimed, pushing off the couch, whirling around, my eyes on fire. “Even if you don’t win for Outstanding Informational Series, you’ll win the Eleanor for Biggest Tease in the Bedroom.”
Grinning, he approached, his lips feathering against mine. “That’s the only award I’m interested in.” He paused. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. I’m more interested in winning the Eleanor for Best Orgasm Ever.”
I drew in a quick breath as his hands skimmed the cup of my bra, the only article of clothing that remained. I reached behind me and unhooked it, tossing it to the floor.
“Then come and get it.” Turning from him, I sauntered toward the bedroom, glancing over my shoulder with a come-hither stare.
His eyes hooding with a devious look, he stalked across the living room, shrugging out of his shirt and tie as he made his way toward me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him.
“For your consideration, signorina…”
Before I could respond, he crushed his lips to mine, his kiss bruising as he gave me every last part of himself, and I him.
“Get on the bed,” he instructed as he pulled away, his tone harsh. “On your hands and knees, facing the headboard. And spread your legs.”
I looked into his dark eyes, which gave nothing away, my voice caught in my throat.
“Now,” he barked, squeezing my ass roughly, then stepped away from me. His stance was wide, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his stare formidable.
My stomach fluttering, I followed his demands, positioning myself on my hands and knees, staring at the headboard. Silence filled the room. I expected to feel Dante behind me, but didn’t. I was so tempted to glanced over my shoulder, to see what he was doing, to take in his beautiful toned body. Instead, I focused on my surroundings…the beside lamp, the cushioned headboard, the framed black-and-white print of downtown LA, the Capitol Records building prominent. This reminded me of our first night together when I was in this exact position on his bed, staring at the painting overhead. I was a different woman back then. I marveled at how much I’d changed in just three months.
When I felt the bed dip, I instinctively glanced over my shoulder at Dante’s now naked frame.
“Face forward,” he ordered.
I quickly followed his demand, feeling as if my heart were going to burst through the walls of my chest at any moment. I’d never been so turned on before. The unknown. The uncertainty. The unrelenting need. It overpowered everything else.
I felt the heat of his chest hovering over my back, the hair on my nape standing on end. Then he slipped a mask over my eyes, shrouding my world in darkness.
“All my international flying has paid off. I knew I could put these eye masks to better use one of these days.”
A tremble rolled down my spine, following the line his finger drew. Unable to see, every other sense was heightened. Smell. Sound. Feel. Oh god, the feel of this man as the heat from his chest danced so close to my skin would unravel me. I feared the instant he pushed inside me, it would be game over. I’d be the welcome recipient of one of the most mind-altering, earth-shattering orgasms. It would be one for the history books. An orgasm to put all other orgasms to shame.
His hands gripped the back of my thighs briefly before loosening their hold, one of his fingers teasing m
e. I moaned, moving into him, trying to signal with my body what I wanted, what I needed.
“Mmm… So greedy.”
“Dante,” I begged. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take, but I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying every delicious, spine-tingling second of waiting, of pining, of lusting.
He trailed his finger from my center, up the curve of my backside, and down again. Over. And over. And over. Repeating. Teasing. Torturing. Suddenly, there was nothing. No rush of desire from his hands on me. No heat of his body near mine. No whisper of his carnal thoughts as I lay completely exposed to him.
The bed shifted and dipped as a warmth settled close to my thighs. I would have given anything to yank this eye mask off, to see what Dante was doing, where he was, but I resisted the urge, the unknown heightening every single sensation flowing through me.
“Spread your legs wider, Eleanor,” he said, his hands gripping my thighs. “And put your weight on your elbows.”
I did as he requested, my chest heaving as I placed my forearms on the mattress, the heat of Dante close to my core growing stronger. Then his mouth was on me, his tongue swirling, licking, tasting.
“Fuck,” I breathed out, clenching my hands into fists, grabbing onto the sheets. I soared as he circled me, devoured me, consumed me. This man. This beautiful, passionate man. How had I survived the past three months without his touch, without his heart, without his love? I never wanted to be without him again. I never wanted to stop feeling this all-consuming spark of electricity that flowed through me as I climbed higher, higher, higher, fireworks erupting before my eyes, in my body, in my heart as I screamed out his name, coming undone.
But he didn’t stop. He kept teasing me, sucking and licking, inserting a finger, then two, as I still struggled to come down from my first orgasm. And that was Dante’s plan. He didn’t want me to come down. He wanted me to stay in the clouds, with him, where we belonged. With each flick of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers, each murmur of his voice, he catapulted me even higher than I’d been before, orgasm after orgasm rolling through me to the point where I didn’t know when one ended and the other began.