Chapter Six

“Where are we going?” I asked Dante after we finished our tea. I struggled to keep up with his long strides as he led me past the Spanish Steps.

“To my place.” He gazed upon me with an almost predatory stare.

My heart slammed against my chest, anticipation bubbling in my veins. I didn’t think I’d been this on edge when Brock and I had sex for the first time, which we’d planned beforehand. Afterward, all I could remember thinking was how I didn’t see what the big deal was. I had felt nothing, other than a dull ache…and not in a good way.

Dante continued down a narrow street away from the Piazza di Spagna, then stopped outside an arched door. Withdrawing a set of keys from his pocket, he unlocked the door, opening it, allowing me to enter in front of him. His dark eyes raked over every inch of me, every dip and valley, every curve, every freckle. I felt raw and vulnerable, but at the same time more protected and cared for than I ever had.

Licking his lips as we stood in the small lobby of what appeared to be a luxury apartment building, he stepped toward me. I remained frozen in place, a tingle spreading through me from the wanton and shameless way he looked at me.

“You can still back out if you’re having second thoughts.” He brushed a strand of my wavy hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my face.

“I’m not having second thoughts,” I answered in a small voice, lacking the confidence I wanted to exude.

He pulled my body into his, somewhat forcefully. I could feel his need for me. “Good,” his lips whispered against mine, the contact sending a spark from my mouth to my fingers and everywhere else.

Too soon, he released me from his warm embrace, then grabbed my hand, leading me past an elevator with an Out of Order sign.

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” he said as he opened the door to a stairwell. “Hopefully, the elevator will be repaired soon.”

“I don’t mind,” I insisted, following him up the stairs. “I was hoping you’d help me work up a sweat. I just thought it would be in the bedroom.” I winked.

“Oh, Eleanor. It will most certainly be in the bedroom. I hope you’re in good shape because I plan on pushing your limits.”

“Don’t forget,” I countered. “I was about to get married. Part of my pre-wedding routine the past six months had been working out with a trainer on a daily basis, all courtesy of my lovely mother.” I rolled my eyes. “She insisted on ordering a size two wedding dress for me, although I was a size four at the time. Last night was the first real meal I’ve had in ages.”

Dante stopped in his tracks. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I were.”

“Aren’t parents supposed to love their children no matter what?”

“Therein lies the problem. I doubt my parents ever loved me. They only had me out of obligation.” I turned from the stunned look on his face and continued up the stairs, unsure what floor to stop on. I just didn’t want to look into Dante’s compassionate eyes right now. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. It was all I ever knew.

As I rounded another set of stairs, I heard Dante’s footsteps coming up behind me. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think you’re perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“Thank you.” I offered him a small smile.

“And you’ve certainly come to the right place.”

“What do you mean?”

We topped the final set of stairs and I followed Dante down a long corridor. I’d lost count of how many floors we’d climbed. It had to be at least five or six.

“You’ve been starved for too long, in more ways than one.” He came to a stop outside a wooden door with an iron handle. It looked heavy. “Lucky you decided to proposition a chef, isn’t it?”

“What can I say?” I shrugged as he inserted a key into the lock, opening the door and holding it for me to walk in ahead of him. “I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. I’ll be well fed and well fucked…unless you’re entirely full of shit and are complete rubbish in bed.” As I walked inside, I gave him a sly grin, then abruptly stopped in my tracks, blown away by the beauty surrounding me.

The far wall was made up almost entirely of glass, the obelisk of the Spanish Steps prominent. In awe, I continued into his apartment, although this was so much more than just an apartment. It was luxury to the max. The open living area boasted high ceilings with exposed beams. The walls were a crisp white, natural light from large windows flooding in and filling the enormous space. Tasteful art pieces adorned the walls on either side of the windows, everything modern and stylistic.

I wandered farther inside, past a set of oversized gray sofas. Dropping my purse on a glass coffee table, I continued toward the French doors. I felt Dante approach. He reached in front of me, unlatching one of the doors and opening it.

I stepped onto a large veranda, the sun warming my skin. “Wow,” I exhaled, soaking in the opulence, even in this outdoor space. To the left was a ten-seat table, along with a built-in barbecue area. To the right was a raised deck containing several cushioned lounge chairs and outdoor sofas. If I lived here, I’d spend all my free time reading on one of those chairs. “This place is incredible.”

“I’m glad you like it. I travel about two hundred days out of the year. When I’m home, I like to be comfortable. It may be a bit much for just one person, but I work hard.”

I turned around to face him, placing my hands on my hips. “So you can play even harder?”

“Precisely, Eleanor. Do you like to play…hard?” He cocked a brow at me.

“I don’t know, but I hope to find out.”

With heat in his eyes, he pulled me against him, wrapping my hair around his hand and forcing my head back. I swallowed hard, blissfully trapped in place. My heartbeat echoed in my ears, and I felt lightheaded. My skin buzzed with anticipation as I braced myself for whatever Dante had planned.

“Are you sure?” He lowered his mouth toward mine, his breath heating my lips.

“Why do you keep asking me that? If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t have shown up today.”

His grip on my hair tightened. “Tell me you want me,” he growled.

I blinked repeatedly, my mouth becoming dry. No one had ever spoken to me like this before. He was demanding, bold, powerful. The authority in his voice made my need for him heighten. Something about the harshness in his tone awoke a yearning inside me I never knew existed.

“I want you,” I murmured softly.

A smile tugged on his lips and he covered my mouth, kissing me with more fire and longing than I thought possible for a man who was unknown to me yesterday. His kiss was thrilling, reverent, sincere, at complete odds with the way he gripped my hair. His tongue tangled with mine, the dull throbbing between my legs growing more pronounced. I’d never been so affected by another man’s kiss before.

When Brock kissed me, even when he forced his tongue down my throat in a way that made me think he was trying to gag me, I didn’t feel anything close to this. No word in the English language could adequately describe what Dante’s kisses did to me. They made me forget everything, made me feel as if I’d get through this time in my life and finally become the person I was meant to be. I didn’t know who that was quite yet, but I couldn’t help but feel this one night with Dante could play a part in helping me figure that out.

He pulled away from me, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. Deep pools of lust stared back at me. He clutched my hand, bringing me back inside.

“As much as I’d love to fuck you out here, I won’t do it in broad daylight. You’re mine right now, nobody else’s, including anyone catching a glimpse from one of the nearby windows.” He tugged me through the living area and toward a set of wrought iron stairs in the far corner. “Nighttime, however, is a completely different story, Eleanor,” he added with a lascivious grin, leading me up the stairs and down a long hallway.

He slowed as we approached the last door on the left, then pushed it open. He stepped back and I walked in. A large king-sized bed sat in the center of a lavish bedroom. The décor seemed to fit the style of the rest of his apartment. Clean, airy, modern, bathed in natural light.

Releasing my hand, he strode to the windows and closed the shutters, shrouding the room in near darkness, apart from a bit of light peeking through the slats. He paused briefly, then turned around to face me once more. This time, there was a sort of animalistic need in his eyes as he ran his gaze over me. It didn’t matter that I was fully dressed. He had already stripped me bare.

My chest rose and fell in a quicker pattern as he strode toward me. This was it. This was what I’d been fantasizing about since I’d met him. This was my chance to finally find out what intimacy was really about, what it was like to be with someone who cared about my needs as much as his own.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Without blinking, I followed his command. He approached from behind, brushing my hair over my shoulders, leaving my nape exposed. A chill ran through me, the unknown making me hyperalert. His hand grazed over my shoulder blades, finding the zipper of my sundress. I held my breath as he slowly lowered it, pushing it off my shoulders, the dress falling to my feet. My legs felt like they were about to give out under the weight of everything I’d been carrying for years.

As if Dante could sense what I was feeling, he pressed his palm against my exposed stomach, supporting me as he gently rocked his hips against me.

“Your skin is so soft, Eleanor,” he murmured. I began to move with the rhythm he set. “So creamy. So pure.”

I leaned my head back against him, succumbing to his touch. His hand roamed from my waist up to my chest, gingerly brushing against my breast. His touch was as subtle as a breeze. Every muscle in my body clenched with promise.

When he rolled my nipple between his fingers, I moaned, a slave to the sensation.

“So perky,” he bit out, then squeezed my nipple.

The sudden pain taking me by surprise, I yelped, my chest heaving as a thousand emotions ran through me.

“Do you like that?” he asked with a growl, a complete one-eighty from the gentle lover he was less than a minute ago.

My brain searched for an answer. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that yes, I loved it, that it was the most satisfying thing I’d ever felt. How could I possibly admit that something so painful gave me more pleasure than I thought possible? Was there something wrong with me? Why did I want him to do it again, but harder? Why did I want to see how far I could take this? Had I been so sheltered my entire life that I was now having depraved thoughts?

“Tell me, Eleanor,” his voice cut through. “This is about finding out how we can give each other what we want and need. I need to know what you like, what you don’t.” He continued rocking his hips against me. It was like a dance…a very sensual, erotic dance. “Having sex is just like a negotiation. We each have needs and wants. There may be a little give and take, some tugging and pulling…” His fingers found my nipple again and pulled it, the shock forcing me to scream out. The ecstasy from the shooting ache was so intense, I thought I would turn to dust. “Perhaps even some screaming and begging.” I could hear the smile in his voice as I stood there, panting, desperate for more…desperate for him. “In the end, I’m confident we’ll both be more than satisfied with the process and final result. Now, Eleanor.” His teeth scraped against my neck. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

“What did you like about it?”

“The pain,” I answered without even pausing to think about the proper response. That didn’t matter anymore. I was motivated by one thing alone…incredible pleasure.

“Ah, really now?”

“Yes.”

His fingers grazed my nipple again. I squirmed under his touch, bracing myself for him to squeeze again. I wanted it. Needed it. More brutal. More callous. More painful.

“Well, well, well,” he murmured in a provocative voice. His hand roamed from my breast, down my stomach, lingering around the waistline of my panties. “This is an unexpected surprise. Pleasant, yet unexpected. If you’re agreeable, I’d like to explore this with you a bit more.”

His teeth clamped onto my neck, sending a shockwave directly to my core. “Yes,” I moaned, closing my eyes as I focused on the exhilaration flowing through me. I felt like I’d been asleep for years and had finally been awoken by a prince’s kiss…a very erotic, salacious kiss.

He gripped my hip and spun me around. Before I could react, his lips crushed against mine. He lifted me with ease, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, our kiss becoming frenzied. There was so much excitement, so much fever, so much need, as if he’d no longer be able to breathe or go on living without my lips on his.

He carried me to the bed and carefully lowered me onto the mattress, our lips never parting. Kicking off my shoes, I fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin on mine.

He tore his lips from mine, catching my wrists in his large hands as he loomed over me. “Whoa, whoa, Eleanor. Slow down. We have all night. Where’s the fire?”

“Everywhere,” I breathed out, frustrated. “I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t fuck me right now.” I’d never spoken so crass before, but it felt right. Everything with Dante just felt right.

“You’re not ready yet. Better yet, I’m not. I like to take my time and enjoy the woman I’m with.”

A pang of disappointment squeezed at my chest at the thought that I was probably just another notch in this guy’s belt. Wasn’t that what I wanted? I was an American in Rome for a little over a week. It was ridiculous to be upset with the knowledge that he’d invite another woman into this very same apartment, seducing her using the very same words he used on me. Still, I couldn’t help but feel somewhat downcast at the notion.

He released his grip on my wrists and lowered his head to my breast as I pushed down any hint of disappointment at the thought of him with someone else. He’d warned me he was just going to use me. I was just using him, too, wasn’t I?

“I love the way your skin tastes,” he commented, his tongue tracing delicate circles around my breast.

I moaned as he continued his relentless teasing, his teeth grazing my nipple. He knew precisely what I wanted, yet stopped just shy of giving it to me. I ran my hands through his thick, dark hair, my fingernails digging into his scalp. I bucked my hips, trying to tell him what I was so desperate for.

“Is there something I can help you with, Eleanor?” he asked coyly.

“You know there is,” I answered between heavy breaths. Every inch of my body was on high alert, a wildfire rushing over me.

He lightly clamped his teeth on my breast, my breath catching. My body tensed momentarily before I relaxed into the contact. I tightened my legs around his waist, my breathing growing heavier and heavier. The more it hurt, the more pleasure flowed through me, the more I wanted to see how much further I could push this.

Too soon, he let go of my nipple and sat back, staring at me. He ran a lone finger from my sternum down toward my belly button, his pace languid, torturous. My skin ached for him. The closer he got to the waistband of my panties, the hotter the fire burned inside me.

His finger continued past my waist, smoothing over the silky material of my panties. Fireworks erupted when he thumbed my wetness, my underwear a rather unwelcome barrier. His fingers teased the inside of my thighs, so close to the material of my panties, delicately brushing underneath, then retreating. I squirmed, unsure how much more of this I could take without falling apart.

“I want to watch,” he declared, licking his lips.

“What?”

He brought his mouth back to mine, his hand cupping me between my legs. “I want to watch you play with this soaking wet pussy.”

“I…” I began, biting my lower lip. His steady gaze unnerved me. I shifted my eyes from his.

“Eleanor, look at me.”

I obeyed his command.

“I want to see what you like. I would never judge you for exploring your sexuality. That’s what this is about. I want to explore what you’ve been forced to bury. You’ve masturbated before, correct?”

I subtly nodded.

“That’s all this is.”

He hooked his fingers into my panties and slid them down my legs, leaving me completely exposed to him. The thought didn’t frighten me like I thought it would. I felt like I was meant to be here with him, in this moment, to do this, to open my eyes to something new.

He grasped one of my wrists, lowering my hand down my body. Releasing his hold, he toyed with my folds with light fingers. Lost in the sensation, needing more, I followed his lead, my fingers running over my wetness.

Dante drew in a shaky breath. I met his eyes, my gaze locked with his. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and lose myself in how unbelievably turned on I was at the notion I was doing this in front of another person, but something about watching the hunger in his expression grow more and more fevered with each stroke made me burn even hotter for him.

My muscles tightened, and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. My chest heaved, my body flamed, my mind succumbed to my deepest desires. I didn’t care about anything else. My sole motivation was to feel. And Dante made me feel more than I had in years, even though he wasn’t even touching me.

Sensing how close I was, he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “Enough,” he growled, his eyes on fire as his jaw clenched.

He stood from the bed and quickly shrugged out of his shirt and pants, but not quickly enough. Every second that passed, the more the flame in my core grew dull. I panted and squirmed, desperate for an orgasm that had remained just out of reach for too long now.

Finally rid of his clothes, he crawled back onto the bed, his strong body hovering over mine. I ran my hands across his broad shoulders, down his sculpted arms, relishing in the feeling of his warm, olive-toned skin under my fingers. I didn’t know what I’d done in my life to be lucky enough to end up here with a man as breathtakingly beautiful as Dante, but I no longer cared.

He lowered his head to mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist, his arousal pulsing against my sensitized clit. I raked my hands down his muscular back, desperate to feel even more of him.

Groaning, he pulled out of the kiss and, in one swift move, flipped me onto my stomach. He snaked his arm around my waist, propping me on my hands and knees. This was completely new to me. Brock had never experimented with different positions. He never even let me be on top.

I stared at the art hanging over the bed, my skin aching for Dante’s touch. I couldn’t tell what it was. There were lots of reds and pinks. Maybe a flower of some sort. Regardless, there was something incredibly erotic about it.

The sound of a packet opening echoed through the room. I glanced over my shoulder to see Dante smoothing a condom onto his rather large erection.

“Face forward, Eleanor,” he ordered. The harshness and severity in his tone sent my heart racing.

Butterflies flitting in my stomach, I followed his command, staring at the wrought iron headboard. I couldn’t help but think this was the perfect headboard to be tied to. I’d never been exposed to any sort of light bondage in my life, but the idea of Dante restraining me and having his way with me sent a delicious shiver down my spine. His words from a few minutes ago came rushing back. How he wanted to help me explore my sexuality. Maybe this was what I liked. Maybe I liked the pain, the thought of the unknown, the anticipation, the ability to just stop thinking for a brief period of time and surrender control to someone who would use it for our mutual pleasure.

Dante’s hands lighted against the skin of my ass and I squirmed, bracing myself for him to enter me. Without warning, he landed a hard blow on my backside. I grunted in pain.

He folded himself over me, biting my neck. “Did you like that?” He rammed a finger inside me, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, feeling more aroused than I thought possible. I no longer worried that there was something depraved about finding so much pleasure in this act. Maybe this was the reason Dante had entered my world…to open my eyes and breathe life back into me.

“Harder,” I begged, my mouth dry.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

He removed his finger and landed an even more powerful blow to the other cheek. I screamed out, “Harder!”

I buried my head into the pillow, clutching onto the headboard so tightly, my knuckles turned white.

He reeled his hand back again, delivering an even more brutal blow. Instantly, he slammed into me from behind, filling me in a way I didn’t think possible. He gripped my hips, his motions relentless. I tightened my hold on the headboard, every muscle in my body taut as Dante fucked me. He’d awoken something deep inside me, a craving I never knew existed, but one that was now nearly impossible to satisfy.

I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but Dante forced me back down, pushing my head into the pillow. “Stay just like that,” he breathed through his teeth. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are in this position, completely exposed and at my mercy?” He drove into me harder, faster, with more fury.

“Dante,” I moaned, so close to falling over the edge. My limbs began to shake, my muscles trembling.

“You feel better than I imagined.” He leaned down, nibbling on my shoulder blades as he hooked his arm around my waist, forcing me upright. His motions slowed, becoming more relaxed and deliberate as we kneeled on his bed, my back glued to his front.

“I imagined it, too,” I confessed, lost in the sensation.

“Tell me.” His hand roamed across my stomach, making its way to my breast.

“After I landed yesterday, I took a nap. I had a dream, and you were in it.”

“Oh, really?” he mused, lightly squeezing my nipple.

“Yes.”

“What were we doing in this dream?” His hips rocked against me gently, as if he knew I was close, but was prolonging my pleasure.

“You were fucking me.”

His lips grazed my shoulder blades as he wrapped my hair in his hand, yanking my head back.

“Is it everything you fantasized it would be?”

“No.”

He pulled my hair harder. I yelped from the pain, but he didn’t loosen his grip. This was precisely the response I’d hoped for.

“It’s better.”

“Good girl.” His motions gradually increased once more. “Hold on to the headboard with one hand. Touch yourself with the other.”

This time, there was absolutely no hesitation on my part. Leaning on my elbow, I gripped the iron headboard, using it to brace myself, and ran my other hand down my stomach, finding my swollen clit.

I moaned, overwhelmed with sensation as Dante increased his pace, his movements becoming frenzied and erratic. Within seconds, I fell apart, waves of gratification washing over me, my orgasm hard and drawn out.

“That’s right,” Dante breathed. “That’s how it should be, Eleanor.”

He grabbed my hips and pulled out. In one swift move, he flipped me onto my back and slammed into me once more. I’d barely come down from my first orgasm, but my body was already on the precipice of shattering all over again. Dante slowed his rhythm, rocking his hips into mine. With each drive, he pushed me closer and closer.

He leaned on his elbows, hovering over me, his motions gentle, deep, perfect. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“God, I love how you feel,” he murmured. “The fact your ex only wanted to do this once a week boggles my mind. I just…” He shook his head, his eyes growing heavy with desire…and something else I couldn’t quite explain. “I want to just crawl inside you.” He pushed even deeper into me, then withdrew, repeating the pattern over and over again. Each invasion brought me higher and higher until I came undone, trembling around him again, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He pressed his lips back to mine as he shook and jerked, grunting through his own release.

We remained completely still for several long moments, our bodies connected. The only sound in the cavernous room was that of our heavy breathing. When I couldn’t take the pressure anymore, I loosened the grip my legs had around his waist, my muscles limp. I had a feeling I’d be sore tomorrow morning, but in the best way possible.

Dante buried his head in my neck, peppering soft kisses down it. His gentleness was at complete odds with the way he just fucked me, but it was exactly what I needed. It was as if he had an Ellie Crenshaw handbook and had studied each word of it ahead of time.

Once our breathing was under control, he rolled off me and removed the condom, tossing it in a nearby trash bin. I hesitated, wondering if this was my cue to leave. I wasn’t exactly sure of the etiquette here. Then he returned to the bed, pulling me against him, my back to his front. He covered our bodies with his luxurious duvet and I closed my eyes, reveling in the comfort he provided me, regardless of how short-lived it was.

“I like this,” I murmured, my voice lazy with exhaustion.

“What’s that?” he hummed.

“Post-fucking snuggling.”

“It’s my favorite part, as well.”

“I’ve never done it before,” I admitted drowsily. I closed my heavy eyelids, struggling to keep them open.

“That’s because you’ve been with the wrong man, Eleanor. And I intend to make it my mission to prove that to you while you’re in Roma.”

“I have a feeling I’m really going to like Italy.”