Page 34 of Thorns of Silence

My eyes drooped. The scent of deep woods, leather, and pines swam all around us. Dante Leone was the source of my every fascination.

My hands clawed at any part of him I could reach. I needed to feel his flesh under the pads of my fingers.

His mouth was on my neck, sucking on my fluttering pulse with the savagery of a wild animal.

The stormy blues of his eyes turned a shade darker, and I knew what that meant. He’d throw me down and fuck me any moment now. His free hand touched me everywhere—my breasts, my neck, my mouth—leaving pleasure in its wake.

He tilted his head down until his lips nearly touched mine, my reflection staring back at me in his beautiful eyes.

I dripped all over his fingers, rocking my hips against him, chasing my pleasure.

Dante paused, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing the hard planes of his abs and stomach that I’d grown addicted to touching. His front was clear of tattoos, but he had a single one on his back. The Omertà tattoo.

He proceeded to remove his jeans and boxers with ease, taking his time while my pussy dripped with arousal.

He stepped toward me with the grace of a panther. I placed a shaky hand on his chest, smoothing my fingers over his abdomen and sculpted muscles.

He was caressing my nipples again, sending more pleasure than pain through me. Then, in one move, he hauled me up, lifting my leg higher to thrust inside me in one ruthless go.

My breath hitched as I hooked my ankles behind him. I wanted him with twisted depravity, and I now saw that same emotion staring back at me.

“This is my pussy.” Thrust. “My property.” Thrust. “Fucking mine.” A strangled gasp spilled from my throat as my core tipped toward release. His fingers grabbed my chin and he forced me to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me when I fuck you.”

My eyes shot wide open, clashing with his.

“Fuck,” he grunted. Tears slid down my cheeks as the most intense pleasure pooled between my legs.

We lowered both our gazes, watching the in and out of his cock covered with arousal as he rammed into me. His intensity increased with each passing second. His strength made me quiver, the rocking of his hips harder with each thrust.

He touched me with such dominance that the only thing I could do—wanted to do—was to surrender to him. Just like I always did.

With each thrust, he went deeper, harder. The erotic friction built higher and higher. Then he hit a secret spot, once, twice. My mouth opened in a wordless cry before the world tumbled.

He pounded into me through my orgasm, my walls clenching his cock. The beat of my heart jumped and raced. I panted, trying to keep up with his rhythm.

I closed the distance between us, my lips brushing against his. It always surprised me to find them so soft. His lips trapped mine, sucking and bruising them. He grunted as his hips jerked, then his cock was twitching and twitching, releasing inside of me.

My head fell back. The world faded. The breeze caressed my heated skin, enveloping us in an invisible hug. Two lovers looking forward to the future.

He carried me back to his cabin, closed the door, and then ran a bath for me. He washed the cum off my body, and then he washed my hair. When he was done, he kissed me under the spray of the water until I was begging him for more.

More of everything.

That was the last time I saw him before he ghosted me.

His hands on my shoulders startled me. “Ready?”

I jerked, closing my eyes. His skin on mine burned, the raw power that emanated off him tying my core into knots.

I stared as fire engines passed us by, their final destination the raging inferno of the restaurant that wouldn’t be salvaged, judging by the flames.

“You okay?” he asked, his fingers still curled around my elbow. Who would be okay after the disaster he’d just caused? Fucking nobody.

I shook off his touch like it was the plague, then rushed away from him. The seconds ticked by, and my pulse began to thud even harder, a sheen of sweat glistening on my back. I could blame the summer heat in Paris, but I feared it had more to do with the man who always seemed to be there.

He caught up to me. His big hand took mine and I closed my eyes, taking a slow breath. God, how I loved when he held my hand.Don’t go there,I told myself and yanked my hand out of his grip.

I had to fortify my walls or else this psychopathic sadist, however gorgeous, would destroy me the next time around. Dante was a monster who liked to toy with women and then leave them in the lurch.