Sweetest Sorrow (Forbidden #2) - J.M. Darhower Page 0,127

confused, dejected, until she noticed his strained expression.

"Do you?" he asked.

"Do I what?"

"Do you like it rough?"

Oh. "Maybe."

"Don't maybe me. It's got to be one way or the other. True or false, Gabriella."

"Well, then… true."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know."

"You should've told me."

She looked from him down to his lap. "Did you really stop me so we could talk? We're seriously going to talk while I'm, like… holding it?"

"You're not fucking with me, are you?" he asked, ignoring her question. "You're not just telling me what you think I want to hear?"

"Of course not."

Before Gabriella could say another word, Dante pulled her completely off of him, nearly knocking her down as he stalked out of the bedroom. What the freak?

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

"Hold on," he yelled. "Don't move."

She ignored that, standing up to follow him.

Dante stepped out of the bathroom, eyebrows raised. "Didn't I just tell you to not move?"

"My boyfriend," she said, pointing at him. "Not my boss."

He held up a condom. "Had to get one of these."

"Oh."

"Because, you see," he said, stepping to her, not stopping, backing her up into the bedroom again. "I've been dying to fuck you senseless—that back-breaking, heart-stopping, pussy-aching kind of fucking that makes you forget how to speak, how to think, how to breathe…"

"Oh," she said again, this time breathless, heat rushing through her, flushing her cheeks and pooling in her gut, an ache stirring up. "You want to…?"

"I've been taking it easy," he said, "and if you're telling me I don't have to, that I can fuck you the way I've been yearning to fuck you, then you're goddamn right I want to."

The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed. He stood right in front of her, eye-level while still in her heels.

"I can take it," she whispered. "If you can dish it."

The second those words were from her lips, Dante grabbed her, dragging her onto the bed. Gone was the soft grip, the slowly tracing fingertips, the gentle lips, replaced by strong hands and a rough kiss. She'd seen little glimpses of his passion all along, but he'd kept it locked up for the most part. Maybe he hadn't wanted to scare her. Maybe he'd been afraid to hurt her. But she wasn't afraid, and unless the ache between her thighs counted, she wasn't in agony, either.

This was the Dante that faced death and survived, the Dante that had been tortured and persevered. The Dante that fought, that endured. The Dante that never buckled, no matter what.

She longed for that Dante.

She longed for all of him.

Dante flipped her over onto her stomach, the condom wrapper crinkling as he ripped it open, rolling it on. An arm snaked beneath her, snatching her hips up off the bed as he shoved her dress up.

"Fuck." His voice was a strained whisper as his hand ran over her bare cheek, roughly squeezing it. "I forgot you weren't wearing underwear."

Tingles coursed through Gabriella, rippling down her spine as she arched her back, letting out a soft moan when he pushed inside of her. He gripped onto her, holding her in place as he slid in and out, moving excruciatingly slow, pausing with just the tip touching before pushing back in. Over and over, again and again, until she was in agony, until she squirmed, desperate for more, on the verge of begging. "What are you doing?"

"Watching."

"Watching what?"

"Myself disappearing inside of that gorgeous pussy."

"Can you watch yourself do it a little harder?"

"I could."

He kept his tormenting pace—if anything, moving slower, lingering longer before pushing back in. She tried to shove back against him but he kept his grip on her, controlling the pace. "Dante…"

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"You," she said. "More of you."

"You've already got all of me."

"Ugh, please," she whined. "Harder. Faster. You're supposed to be, ugh…"

"Fucking you? Is that what you mean?"

"Yes!"

"Tell me you want me to fuck you and I will."

"I want you to."

"Want me to what?"

She realized what he was doing, what he was trying to get her to say. He pulled out, pausing again, toying with her. She could even hear the amusement in his voice, the light laughter in his words, as he teased her.

Two can play that game.

"I swear, Dante Galante, if you don't give it to me like I want, I'll go find someone else who—uh!"

He drove into her so hard it knocked the words out of her, the air leaving her lungs in a gasp, his grip so hard

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