that I’m looking down the barrel of a long, painful future.
The only thing that matters are his hands on my waist, his lips on mine, and the growing need in the pit of my stomach.
Thoughts disappear from my mind. Tension evaporates in my body, and the only thing that exists is the pleasure that Dante promises.
Pleasure that I haven’t experienced in a long time.
Pleasure that I’ve even denied giving myself.
Taking my hand, the Prince leads me over to the big four-poster bed. He lays me on top of the goose down blanket, his eyes running down the length of my body.
Everywhere he looks, little bursts of electricity erupt over my skin. Goosebumps sweep over me from head to toe. The Prince slides his hand over the silky fabric of my pajamas, groaning as he feels my pebbled nipple.
Pulling the neckline down to reveal my breast, he drops his mouth to taste it. As soon as his warm tongue swipes over my nipple, a gasp escapes my lips.
Fire rushes down my spine, swirling around my stomach and teasing between my thighs. It only takes one touch for Dante to make me feel alive again.
Maybe I’ve denied myself pleasure because I knew he would come into my life. Maybe, deep down, I knew there would be a Prince to come save me from this life I’ve been imprisoned in. All these years that I’ve avoided pleasure happened to make this moment all the sweeter.
All this time, I’ve been waiting for him. My Dante.
Laying kisses down over my breasts, my chest, my collarbone, the Prince moves back up to kiss my lips. He claims them, his small bit of stubble scratching my skin as he peppers me with kisses. Every sense is heightened. Every nerve ending is screaming for his touch, his lips, his everything.
I run my fingers over his shoulders and down his sides, pulling his shirt off over his head. Trailing my hands over his body, I exhale as I feel the warm, hard muscles his clothes have been hiding.
Even the sight of his chest makes my pulse hammer. I gulp, my mouth watering at the bulge in his pants.
When I reach for his belt buckle, Dante chuckles. He pushes my hand away, dragging my own camisole off over my head. Pinning my arms above my head, he crushes his lips to mine. He lays claim to my mouth, and I love every second of it.
Spreading my knees, I roll my hips to feel the hardness of his shaft.
An ache grows between my legs. An emptiness that only he can fill.
With both my wrists held in one of his hands over my head, the Prince sweeps his other hand down my body. I gasp when he tugs my nipple, sending another wave of shivers tumbling down my body. Heat sparks between my thighs as my need grows more intense.
When the Prince slips his hand under my silk pajama shorts, I sink my teeth into his shoulder. He groans when he feels my wetness, not hesitating to slip his fingers inside me.
Gasping, I arch my back.
Pinning me to the bed, the Prince teases me with his fingers. I say he teases me, because I already know that fingers won’t be enough for me tonight.
Even when heat builds in the pit of my stomach, and he moves to pleasure my clit. Even when his fingers dance like magic between my legs, and when his hot breath washes over my skin. Even when he bites my earlobe, driving his fingers deep inside me and touching a spot inside me I didn’t even know existed.
When my body trembles and an orgasm crashes into me, leaving me limp and broken on the bed, I still know it won’t be enough.
Dante slips his fingers out of me and drags them across my lips.
“Taste yourself,” he commands in a hoarse whisper.
I suck his fingers inside my mouth, tasting my own orgasm on them. I swirl my tongue around as the need inside me crests.
As soon as he releases my wrists from his grasp, I flip Dante onto his back. I’m shaking as I unhook his belt and shimmy his pants down his legs.
Tearing my own shorts off, I straddle the Prince. His hard, gorgeous shaft pulses against me.
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, looking up at Dante’s face. Hooded, dark eyes stare back at me. With my hands braced on his chest, I can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. I rock my hips, gasping