I collapsed to the ground and curled into a ball, unable to stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks. The floor reeked of urine, but I was too upset to care. It would have hurt less if Dante had filleted me open, splayed my ribs, and ripped my heart from my chest.
I was a fool. A naive, little girl who had allowed her schoolgirl fantasies to overtake reality. All of the times I had envisioned this event, it had never ended quite so disastrously. Dante had squashed all of my adolescent daydreams in a matter of seconds.
And it stung.
"Erica, open the door." The muffled sound of Dante's voice startled me.
"Go away," I said, sucking back my sniffles.
"Let me in."
"No." I snatched some toilet paper and blotted at the smeared mascara under my eyes.
"Open the fucking door, or I'll break it down, Erica."
"Leave me alone. Please." I dragged myself off the ground and went to the sink to splash some water on my face. Several of his muttered curses drifted through the door. There was no way he was coming in. It would take him and several of his teammates to break down that solid, wood door.
The doorknob rattled. I almost laughed until I heard the ping of the lock giving way. The door swung open to reveal Dante in the doorway with a flatbed key in one hand. The grim look on his face betrayed his irritation, but I didn't care.
I crossed my arms over my chest, ignoring the fact my dress was still bunched at my waist. "Get out."
"Not until we figure this out," he said, taking a step closer.
"There's nothing to talk about. You made it pretty clear. You don't want me."
"It's not that. I don't want you to have any regrets, especially since I can't give you what you really want. And I don't want Damian to hate me."
"Can't I decide on this one thing? Have it be about me and not my brother?" Dante's eyes softened with his sigh.
"Erica..."
"Go, Dante." The pressure was starting to build again, and tears pricked my eyes.
"Please don't cry." He stalked forward, crowding me backward until my butt hit the porcelain sink. "I do want you."
Warmth, honey sweet, seeped into every pore of my body. Our labored breathing filled the air and Dante's eyes were dark pools of oil that threatened to swallow me whole. He leaned over and pressed his lips to the outer edge of my eye, the coarse stubble of his chin rubbing the delicate flesh raw.
With tender sweeps of his tongue, he sopped up the few tears that remained. He moved to the other side and performed the same ritual. I stood stock-still, staring at the breadth of his chest, afraid that if I moved he might stop. When he hovered over my lips, I drew in a sharp breath. The moment I had been dreaming about for the last four years was about to become a reality, but he merely placed soft kisses on the outer edge of my mouth, missing where I craved him most.
My nails dug into the nape of his neck as I forced his mouth against mine. Those soft, plush lips did not disappoint, but Dante stood rigid, refusing to touch me. I ran my tongue along his bottom lip and with a rumbling moan, he allowed me entry. The beer on his tongue intermingled with an intoxicating taste all his own and I grew heady with the need to ingest every last drop.
"Dante, please," I panted.
He pulled back and gazed down at me, the muscles in his shoulders tensed under my fingertips like he was on the brink of losing control. "What do you want? You want me to fuck you right here on the floor like an animal? Or maybe up against the wall, my cock buried so deep you scream?"
Holy shit. My stomach did a sweet somersault. "Whatever you want," I said, licking my lips.
He cursed and shook his head. "This isn't a fucking movie. The first time hurts. I'm good, but I'm not that good."
He was purposely trying to scare me and had a valid point, but all he had managed to do was turn me on. I was already soaked, and he hadn't even touched me. His eyes searched mine, while I tried to formulate a rational thought.
"Or would you like me to lift that dress and bury my face between your legs? Has anyone ever licked that pretty little pussy?"
I didn't know which aroused me more, his wicked words or the way he delivered them. He had rendered me speechless. "Erica, I asked you a question." He leaned down and nuzzled my ear, nibbling the tip until shivers cascaded down my spine. "Has anyone ever tasted you?"
"No," I whispered.
His eyes fluttered shut and he dragged in a deep breath, reopening them to pierce me with a possessiveness that surprised me. "Good. Because I've been thinking about it ever since I saw you in this dress. Do you want that?"
It was as if he had read my mind, but all I could manage was an incoherent mumble. With a chuckle, he lifted me up onto the counter pressing me back against the cold mirror.
His eyes landed on my breasts, and I swore my heart skipped a beat. He reached behind me and unfastened my bra, pulling the straps down until I was naked from the waist up. I gulped down any self-consciousness, because his eyes widened with appreciation, making me feel like the most well-endowed woman in the world.
"So, perfect," he said as he palmed one mound in his large hand. The tip, already rigid, grew even more so under the rough pad of his thumb. I arched upward and he leaned down, sucking and circling the tip with his hungry mouth, our movements in seemingly perfect synchronicity. The slickness of his mouth drove me crazy as he moved from side to side teasing each tip until they were so sensitive I cried out his name.
He dropped to his knees and forced my dress up. Licking his top lip, he stared between my legs like he was a wolf about to feast on his prey. He pulled my drenched panties down and discarded them on the floor.
"You're so beautiful."
He worshiped me with his eyes, his chest heaving as he stared at something no man had seen before. Before my nerves overtook me, he pressed his mouth over my slick seam. I bucked under him, consumed by the liquid hot sensation erupting between my legs. He grabbed my hips and held me in place, giving me a devilish grin from between my legs. He ran his tongue over my clit and flicked it repeatedly, his eyes never leaving mine.
"So, good," he moaned between tastes.
The sensations were so new and unbelievable that I couldn't keep my eyes open. My body felt suspended above itself, like I was about to take off on a magic carpet ride. Dante was the genie in the bottle and all three of my wishes came true when my violent orgasm ripped through me.
My hips flew off the counter, but he didn't stop teasing me, his tongue delving deeper, as spasm after spasm pulsed through me. It was the most intense orgasm of my life. I yelled out his name, writhing on the hard counter as he continued to torment me.
The couple next door pounded on the wall, their muffled shouts bringing me back down to earth. I grabbed Dante's head, holding it hostage between my legs, while I tried to regather my wits. His soft chuckle vibrated against my sensitive flesh, and I jolted under him.
"Oh, my God, they heard me scream your name."
"It's probably not the first time they've heard my name yelled in this house," Dante said with a smirk.
I punched his shoulder, but he just laughed. I was well aware of his reputation. It was one of the reasons I'd wanted him to be my first, but I didn't need him to throw it in my face.
Dante stood up and took in my disheveled state. The hard press of his cock was evident in his jeans, but when I reached out to touch him, he stepped back.
"Aren't you going to let me return the favor?"
"No," he said with a pained moan.
"Why not?"
"Have you ever given a blow job before?"
"No, but I've watched a few pornos," I said.
He laughed. "God, you're too perfect. As much as I'd like to see what you've learned, I'm not going to let you suck my dick."
"Do you want to get it over with, then?"
"I never said I was going to fuck you, Erica. Our first time is not going to be in this dirty bathroom with people listening next door."
"Then, let's go back to your place."
"No," he said with a shake of his head.
"You're a tease, Dante."
"If I were a tease, I would have brought you to the brink and then left you hanging. From what I could tell, you enjoyed that more than just a little."
I wanted to deny it, but I had never been a good liar. I slipped off the counter and yanked my underwear off the ground, forcing them up my legs. I tried to ignore the moisture coating them, while I scrambled to refasten my bra.
He watched me with a conflicted expression as I slipped the straps of my dress back into place. I needed privacy, and he didn't seem intent on leaving. I tried to push past him. "Move, Dante."
"Don't be mad. I know it hurts right now, but in the long run, you're going to thank me. I hope you don't regret what just happened."
"I don't," I whispered. And it was true. "Promise me you won't tell Damian."
"I promise."
I squeezed past him and walked out, doing my best not to stumble under the weight of my disappointment.