Page 18

“Hush, Anya,” he muttered, kissing a trail up her thigh. “Let me lick you.”
Her hand slid weakly into his hair, but he grabbed her wrist and pinned it down, licking her again—slow and filthy.
He stayed there for a while—licking, sucking, nipping softly until she was a mess again, whimpering under her breath, body twitching with every soft bite. Finally, he slowed down. His lips pressed one last kiss inside her thigh before laying his head there, using her soft skin as a pillow, arms wrapped under her legs.
Her fingers drifted lazily through his hair, her breath still uneven.
He nuzzled between her thighs, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other splayed protectively over her lower stomach, he let sleep take him. His lips brushed her skin with every exhale, and even as his breathing slowed, his fingers stayed wrapped around her.
***
The next morning, Anya stirred, her lashes fluttering as she blinked herself awake. She turned slightly—only to feel a strong, muscular arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Her bare back was pressed against solid, warm skin.
Still groggy, she turned onto her back and blinked up—
And froze.
Dante was right beside her, fast asleep, his bare chest pressed against her back, his arm possessively wrapped around her waist. The room was cold, the AC humming above, making her shiver and acutely aware of the complete lack of clothes on her body.
Her heart skipped. Her lips parted in silent shock.
She slowly turned to her side and tried to slide away, inch by inch, her mind racing. Maybe she could slip out quietly. Maybe she could pretend it didn’t happen.
But before she could move another inch, that strong arm around her waist tightened—and in one swift motion, she was pulled back into the bed.
Anya landed flat on her back as Dante shifted, turning her toward him. His sleepy eyes opened, heavy-lidded and dark with that morning haze, and locked onto hers.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His morning voice was husky and low, full of heat.
Before she could respond, he pulled her closer, her nipples brushing against his chest. She was completely flushed as he leaned in, whispering against her lips.
“You’re mine now.”
Anya’s heart thudded wildly. Flashes of last night—blurry, messy—suddenly came back into focus. Her lips, his touch, the way he held her... Her heart pounded, stomach in knots.
“You were very enthusiastic last night,” he murmured against her skin, amused. “Told everyone at the bar you’ve seen every inch of my body.”
Her eyes widened. “What?!”
“You tried to take my shirt off in the bar. Said you wanted everyone to see how good my body is.” He chuckled, a low, teasing sound.
Anya groaned, mortified, and covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God…”
The memories were coming back—and fast.
She peeked out from behind her fingers, her voice barely above a whisper. “Did we really… sleep together?”
Dante reached up, gently pushing her messy curls back from her face with surprising tenderness. His dark eyes held hers.
“What do you think?” he murmured. “Can’t you feel it?”
Her cheeks flamed instantly. Oh, she could feel it—every bit of it.
He paused. A frown touched his brows as his tone turned serious.
“And from now on, you’re not allowed to have a single drop of alcohol when I’m not around.”
The very thought of her—drunk, falling into another man’s arms, touching him, doing to him what she did tohim—made rage burn through Dante’s veins like wildfire. Just the image of it made his fists clench.