Page 14

Their eyes locked.
“Grandpa asked me to keep an eye on you,” she mumbled seriously, her words slurred. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Before he could even process what she’d said, her fingers tightened around his collar. She yanked him close, her facerising off the bed as her lips pressed against his in a sudden, soft kiss.
Startled, Dante froze—his entire body stiffening.
He had never had a girlfriend. Never even kissed a woman before.
And her lips… they moved over his like a whisper, gentle and slow, like petals brushing against him. It was tender. So tender, he didn’t dare pull away.
His heart pounded wildly, breaking through every barrier inside him, his breathing uneven, raw.
After a few seconds, she pulled back and blinked slowly, lips still parted, staring at him.
Then came his voice—low and sharp, and agitated. “Who do you think I am?”
The idea of her being this drunk—so drunk she might be mistaking him for another man—set his chest on fire. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to kiss him. He just couldn’t stand the thought that she might not even know it washim.
That thought pushed him to the edge.
“It’s just a kiss,” Anya mumbled, a small frown appearing between her brows. “Why are you reacting like this? Why is there a crease on your forehead?”
Her fingers reached up, brushing over the tight line etched there, trying to smooth it out with a gentle, almost playful touch. “I can kiss you again… Do you want me to kiss you better?” she asked, her voice soft, teasing, her lips curling faintly.
Before he could respond, she leaned in and pressed her lips softly against his. “There. It’s soft, isn’t it?”
Dante froze. Every muscle in his body went tight, locking down the storm that raged inside him. One second. Two. And then the control he’d barely managed to hold snapped like brittle glass.
His hand shot to the back of her head, fingers twisting in her hair as he pulled her in hard. His breath came out in a heated rush against her lips, his voice a low growl.
“Remember this—you started it, Anya.”
The next second, Dante’s lips crashed onto Anya’s, hungry and fierce. He captured her lower lip between his teeth, tugging it into his mouth with a low groan that vibrated through her. Then he moved upward, teasing her upper lip with slow, demanding kisses before plunging deeper, swallowing her breath as their mouths fought for dominance.
His lips left hers and traced a scorching path down her neck. Just behind her ear, he pressed soft, wet kisses that burned like fire. Then his tongue flicked out, sliding over the tender skin in slow, tantalizing strokes that made Anya shiver.
“Mmmhhmm…” she moaned softly, the sound barely a whisper but enough to make Dante’s body tighten. That quiet moan was pure addiction, and he needed more—needed to hear her lose herself in him.
His mouth found her ear again, sucking and swirling his tongue over her earlobe. His hand moved urgently to the buttons of her blouse, fingers fumbling with a raw impatience, desperate to bare her skin.
But before he could undo the last button, Anya pushed him back and sat up, chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her eyes flashed with a fire that matched his own. With a frustrated growl, she yanked the blouse off her shoulders, the fabric falling to the floorin a soft whisper. Her fingers slipped to the side of her waist, gripping the zipper of her skirt.
Dante’s hand was faster. He clenched the waistband and yanked the skirt down in one hard pull. It slid over her hips and thighs, pooling at her feet.
Anya didn’t wait. Her hands ripped open his shirt, the buttons popping off like fireworks, scattering around them. She pressed her mouth to his throat, tongue tracing the line of his Adam’s apple with a possessive hunger that made Dante groan low in his throat.
His fingers dug into her waist, anchoring himself to her as his eyes fluttered closed, trembling beneath her touch. A slow smile played on her lips as she trailed her tongue down to his collarbone, savoring every inch of his heated skin.
His jaw clenched tight, the tension building until he couldn’t hold back any longer.
In a swift motion, Dante shoved her down onto the bed. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she landed on the mattress, the cool sheets a sharp contrast to the fire between them.
His mouth immediately found the valley between her breasts, tongue teasing along the curves and over the swell of her throat. He licked her neckline in long, slow strokes, then sucked gently on the skin just above her heart.
Anya whimpered, and the sound sent a fresh surge of need rushing through Dante’s veins.
His hands slid up her back to the clasp of her bra. With a practiced flick, he unhooked it and tore it off, tossing it aside without looking.