Page 17 of His Son's Ex

He trails kisses along my jaw and down my neck, each one sending a flood of warmth through me.

When his mouth reaches the curve of my shoulder, he pauses, breath hot on my skin.

“You sure about this?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I reply, fingers sliding into his thick hair. “Don’t make me second-guess myself.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

In one swift movement, he lifts me, guiding me until my back meets the smooth wall.

My dress hikes up, revealing the curve of my thighs.

A spark of vulnerability flickers through me as memories of Luca’s backhanded comments about my body come to mind.

But Dante’s gaze is nothing but hungry admiration.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing along my collarbone.

A trembling exhale escapes me as his hand explores the curve of my hip, gliding beneath the hem of my dress. W

hen he finds the soft skin of my upper thigh, my breath stutters. Instinct drives me to arch closer, tangling my fingers in his hair.

He kisses me again, more urgently this time.

Slowly, he lowers me to my feet and steps away, his eyes roaming over every inch of my body. He reaches for the zipper at the back of my neck and I nod, giving silent permission.

He pulls it down slowly, the sheer fabric sliding off my shoulders, sending a shiver down my spine.

I let the dress pool at my feet, left in only a lacy bra and panties. Dante looks at me ravenously, as though he’s never seen anything more enticing.

“You’re breathtaking.”

A pang of self-consciousness flutters in my stomach, but his reaction is a balm to every insecurity. “You don’t have to flatter me,” I whisper.

His head snaps up and he meets my eyes. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

With a deliberate slowness, he peels off his tie and unbuttons his shirt, revealing a gorgeous, powerful, and well-built torso with a dusting of dark hair.

He unclasps my bra, my breasts tumbling out. I gasp, arms reflexively covering myself, but he gently moves them aside.

“Don’t hide yourself,” he says, capturing my wrists and lifting them above my head, pressing me back against the wall.He smirks as he takes in the sight of me.

He lowers his head, lips brushing over one sensitive nipple. I cry out softly, the sensation overwhelming. His tongue movesin slow circles, sending pleasure throughout my body, while my fingers intertwine with his above my head.

He moves one hand down my waist and over the swell of my hip, hooking his fingers just beneath the edge of my panties. In a smooth motion, he slides them down, letting them drop to the floor. My cheeks burn, but the sight of his raw appreciation fuels my desire.

The moment he releases my wrists, I pull his face to mine for a frantic kiss. My fingers slip under the waistband of his trousers, fumbling with the button until it pops open. He groans when I push his pants down and cup him through his boxer briefs, finding him already hard.

“You’re impatient,” he breathes, chuckling.

“Very,” I admit, pressing my palm more firmly.

He backs up just enough to shed the rest of his clothing, giving me the chance to get a good look at him. My pulse stutters. He’s tall and powerful, each muscle defined and toned. My gaze lingers on the V of his hips as he slowly lowers his waistband.

My breath hitches, heat throbbing between my legs. His cock—thick, long, and hard—stands proudly. A fresh surge of arousal floods my pussy, and I press my thighs together as the ache inside me sharpens until it’s almost unbearable.

Dante watches me, amusement glinting in his dark, predatory gaze. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” His voice is pure sin, rough and teasing.