Page 55 of The Sterling Acquisition

Orion blinked, taken aback by the request. “What?”

“You heard me. Kiss me.”

“No.” The response was automatic, defensive.

Dante feigned a pout. “I’ve had your delicious cock in my mouth, and you won’t give me a kiss?”

The crude reminder made Orion flush deeper, his scent spiking with embarrassment and arousal. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

“Scared?” Dante’s voice was teasing, challenging.

“Of kissing you? Hardly. I just don’t want my first kiss to be with some Gensyn corporate thug.”

The words hit Dante in his chest.Firstkiss. He was a virgin in every sense, then—not just sexually, but in all the small intimacies that most people took for granted. The revelation made something possessive and protective in equal measure bubble up like an ache.

“Your first kiss,” he repeated.

“Don’t make it weird,” Orion snapped, but Dante could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was trying to hide behind aggression.

“Not weird. Just...” Dante studied his face, seeing him differently now. “Important.”

“It’s not important. It’s just a kiss.”

“No,” Dante said firmly. “It’s not just anything. Not when it’s your first.”

He could see Orion processing that response, not expecting the sudden shift to gentleness. “It’s not.”

“Then prove it.” Dante waited.

Orion stared up at him for a long moment, looking torn between stubbornness and curiosity. Finally, with obvious reluctance and a hint of nervousness he was trying to hide, he lifted his head.

Dante met his lips and felt something shift, not just between them, but like the very foundations of the Earth clicked into place. The kiss started hesitant, inexperienced—the careful, uncertain touch of someone who’d never done this before. Orion made a small sound of surprise, like a sigh against Dante’s lips, and suddenly he was pressing closer, his lips parting quickly, like he was trying to figure out what to do with his mouth.

Dante expected resistance, maybe a quick, defiant peck. He hadn’t expected this. Orion kissed like he was trying to memorize the sensation with small, confused sounds he made as he discovered what kissing felt like. His hands twisted in Dante’s shirt like he was afraid of drowning.

It was unpolished, unpracticed, and absolutely devastating.

When they broke apart, Orion looked undone—pupils blown wide, lips swollen, breathing uneven. There was wonder in his expression, mixed with something that might have been panic. His entire worldview seemed to be recalibrating.

“That was...” Orion started, then stopped, struggling to process what had just happened. His fingers touched his lips in disbelief, as if trying to capture the sensation before it faded. The gesture carried a vulnerability that all his previous defiance had never revealed—a glimpse of the person beneaththe fighter.

“What have you done to me?” The question was soft, more to himself than to Dante, carrying equal parts accusation and wonder.

“Your first,” Dante said softly, unable to keep the satisfaction out of his voice. “And you were perfect.”

Fear flickered across Orion’s expression—not fear of Dante, but of something deeper. For some reason, despite that flicker, Orion’s response was to try to pull him down for another kiss,

Dante pulled back with a knowing smile, watching the conflict play out across Orion’s face. “Greedy,” he observed, enjoying the frustrated sound Orion made. “Already addicted?”

“Shut up,” Orion breathed, but there was no real heat in it—just confusion and want.

“We have planning to finish,” Dante said, straightening his clothes though his hands weren’t steady. “And you need to save some energy for being Leo’s perfect pet tonight.”

“Bastard,” Orion said, but his voice was soft, distracted. He was touching his own lips again with wondering fingers, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.