26
Nicole
The bedroom squeaks open, stirring me from slumber. I roll over on the mattress, my eyes sore and dry. I’m tired. Who is coming into my room?
Shadows dance over his darkened features.
I’d recognize that body anywhere. What is he doing sneaking into my bedroom?
“Dante?” I rub the sleep from my eyes. “What are you doing?” I sit up in bed and pull the covers up tight around myself.
He’s quiet and stalking me like I’m his prey. Dante climbs atop the bed, hovering over me, forcing me to lie back down.
“You—”
“What?” I ask. The glint of sadness in his eyes makes my stomach churn.
The hospital had affirmed that the baby was healthy with an ultrasound.
There’s something behind those dark eyes that has my heart aching, wanting to know what’s wrong.
He leans down, his lips capture mine in a searing hot kiss. With one hand, his fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, tighter as he lowers himself against me, trapping me between him and the bed.
“Tell me what it is,” I whisper between kisses.
My body instantly responds to his touch, his warmth and his desire poking at me. A moan slips past my lips, and he takes it as further encouragement, pushing the sheets down, his hips lifting long enough to climb under the covers with me.
“I want you,” Dante says.
Straddling my hips, he shucks his shirt and removes my t-shirt. I lift my hips to allow him to slide my pajama bottoms and panties down. It’s hard to deny him anything when his kisses ignite a fire inside of me.
It’s probably the hormones raging through my body making me crave his touch.
His breath teases a path down my neck, and he nips at my skin, marking me.
I am his.
He wants everyone to know that I belong to him.
Isn’t that why I’m locked in this castle?
“Roll over,” he demands into my ear, and he swiftly flips me over, his hands strong against my hips. “On all fours.”
Even in sex, he commands with authority. A shiver courses down my spine as I crawl onto my knees.
He guides my legs farther apart, and his touch between my thighs sends a ripple of heat surging to my core.
“You’re wet for me. Good, Kitten,” he whispers into my ear.
“Yes, Master,” I say, playing the part that he must so deliberately want of me. Why else give me a pet name and command me at his will to do as he demands?
He rewards me. Dante’s fingers glide between my folds and then circle my clit.
I rock my hips back and forth, his fingers putting the perfect amount of pressure on my aching bead.
“I know you want to come,” Dante whispers into my ear.
I whimper in agreement. He is right. I do want to experience that sweet release that he can offer me. Will he continue to tease me or grant me what I desire?