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Dante strips his own jeans and boxers off quickly. I don’t have time to see what he looks like naked.

To process that I’m having sex with a man.

All I can do is reach for him. I slide my hands under his jacket and push it off his shoulders, then his shirt. He has to help me yank it off over his head, revealing his broad shoulders and his muscular body—soft but strong, and covered in tattoos.

“Oh my God,” I gasp as I run my hands along his bare shoulders. They’re quickly displaced as Dante takes my own shirt and sweater off. All of our clothing is a messy frenzy flung over the couch.

“I told you I was gonna claim you,” Dante reminds me as he lies down on top of me. His cock slides against mine, and I whimper out a moan so desperate it’s hard to believe it came from me. “Move with me, baby. Let me feel how much you want me.”

“Dante,” is all I can say before he captures my mouth with his own.

I wrap my arms around his neck, and one of my legs around his hip.

Despite having never done this before, it all seems to come naturally.

I pant for breath as I grind and buck my hips up against Dante’s now that he’s given me permission. Our dicks slide and pulse against each other. His is slightly thicker than mine, but it feels just the same—hard, hot, and wet.

His lips move against mine, warm and perfect. I kiss him back fervently, in a way I’ve never done before. The taste of his mouth is just as I remember, and now that I’m kissing him, I never want to stop.

My fingers tangle in the back of his hair, and I hear him moan as my nails scrape his scalp.

His hands push at my hips, his own fingers holding me so tightly that it almost hurts, and I like it.

Dante licks into my mouth, his tongue swirling around mine, and I let him take the lead. Saliva starts to drip from the corners of my lips.

My entire body is flushed hot, and sweat gathers at my hairline and the contours of my body.

Just as I’m about to attempt to deepen the kiss even further, Dante pulls back.

His tongue slides out of my mouth, and he licks my lips before licking all the way down my jawline to my neck.

“Fuck, puppy…I’ve wanted this since I first saw you,” he tells me.

All I can do is moan and grunt in response as I roll my hips against his haphazardly. I’m desperate for more friction.

Dante pushes down harder against me, rubbing his length against mine with even more vigor.

My hand that isn’t in his hair slides down to his neck, then his back, and I hold on to one of his shoulder blades, digging my nails into his skin.

“Fuck!” he grunts, and starts to thrust down against me harder, faster.

His grip on me grows tighter, and his mouth hovers above my neck.

“Mark me!” I choke out. I remember him telling me he would. At least, I think he told me that. Or is that simply another thing I’ve been denying myself?

It doesn’t matter.

Dante wastes no time.

I cry out as his teeth sink into the flesh of my neck. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but there’s a twisted part of me that wonders what that would feel like.

The tears from earlier have mostly dried, and are now mixed with sweat. The emotion in the room is a thick fog of lust and desire, but a sense of fear still lingers. With every thrust that brings our weeping cocks together, and every scratch that my nails carve into Dante’s back, I’m incredibly aware that this man saved my life—a life that I’m living here, with him, in this raw, animalistic moment.

“Dante, fuck…oh God, fuck me!” I grip his hair and back tighter, my nails scraping into his skin, and at the same time his tongue laps at the bite on my neck.

“Please…please…I’m yours, please,” I blubber almost incoherently as the pressure of orgasm builds up higher inside of me. My balls clench and my thighs squeeze up against him.

He bites me again. This time it’s over for me, almost as quickly as it started.