CHAPTER SEVEN
“GOD, THIS THING IS a lot heavier than I imagined it would be,” I said as I stepped into the suite, a little tipsy from all the champagne I’d consumed throughout the evening, first at the post-awards ball, then at one of the many afterparties we’d attended in Hollywood. I should have been exhausted, considering it was after two, but I felt energized. I didn’t want the night to end.
When Dante didn’t say anything in response, I whirled around, my breath catching from the magnitude in his stormy eyes. The fun, light atmosphere I’d enjoyed as we stumbled from the limo and into the lobby of the hotel, laughing at something I can’t even remember, had vanished in a flash. It was like Dante had flipped a switch the instant we crossed the threshold into the suite. And based on everything I knew about my enigmatic, seductive, duplicitous man, that was precisely what happened.
“Eleanor…” He strode toward me as I remained locked in place, anxiously awaiting his approach.
I had the good fortune of seeing Dante in so many different scenarios… The cocky Italian who hit on the woman across the aisle from him on the plane. The sensual man who opened my mind, body, and heart to what was possible. The tortured soul who cried in my arms at the memory of his daughter. And the passionate man who kissed me in a way I’d never been kissed. But none of those compared to the way his tumultuous gaze locked on mine as he slowly stalked toward me, a hunter taunting his prey, a monster chasing his mark, a killer pursuing his next victim.
With each step he took, my heart pounded against my chest, threatening to burst through the walls keeping it trapped. I didn’t know why I was so nervous, so on edge, so jittery. Dante and I had been intimate more times than I could count. He’d been rough and commanding with me since the very beginning. But there was something drastically different about this.
The game wasn’t over yet.
When he was just a whisper away, his eyes glaring down at me like I was an errant child, he reached for the gold statue in my hand. I allowed him to take it. I wanted to look away, but couldn’t, as if his mere presence had commanded my gaze to remain on his.
He ran a finger down my cheek, my teeth chattering from the chill enveloping me. Pinching my chin, he forced my head back, his scrupulous stare seeming to analyze every inch of me.
“Tell me, Eleanor,” he began, licking his lips.
“Yes?” I breathed.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“Yes, Dante.”
His lips drew near mine, his breath sweet from the liquor he’d consumed. “What did you like most about it?”
My eyelids fluttered closed, the heat, the fire, the burn of his mouth so close to mine causing desperation to wash over me. I needed him to kiss me, to feel his hands on my flesh, to surrender to him completely — my body, my heart, my love.
“When you kissed me after they announced you were the winner.”
“Oh really?” He released his hold on my chin, his motions quick as he gripped my hip, spinning me around so I faced away from him. I wanted to turn back and peer into his eyes, so I could feel his lips on mine, so I could rake my fingers through his hair. He pressed his hand against my stomach, forcing me into him. “What did you like about it?”
“The way you didn’t try to hide me, that you weren’t ashamed of being with me, that you had no problem letting the world see how much you want me.”
“Not want, Eleanor.” His lips met the crook of my neck. “Need.” His grip on me tightened, arms pulling me even harder against him as his teeth grazed my skin. “Just like you need me.”
I smirked. “A little confident of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Perhaps.” He reached up, his hand lightly clutching my throat. The heat of his skin on mine, coupled with the slight pressure he applied, caused my pulse to soar. His hand floated from my neck, smoothing down my collarbone, then landed between the groove of my breasts. “But based on the way you’ve been eye-fucking me all night long…”
He grabbed my nipple between his fingers, tugging, forcing a yelp from me. It didn’t matter that my dress acted as a barrier between my flesh and his hands. The ache was still as pronounced as it would have been had I been naked. He lowered his mouth back to my neck, clamping down with his teeth. He made no move to be gentle, to be loving, to be merciful. He was the Dante I’d met on the plane. The Dante who slammed me against the brick building in an alley in Rome when I knew nothing about him. The Dante who recklessly fucked me in the bathroom of a museum. I loved the affectionate, doting Dante. But damn if I didn’t crave the erotic, salacious version of him.
“One thing is certain…” I could almost hear the smile in his tone.
“What’s that?” I panted, his hold on my nipple only tightening. I reached behind me, scraping my hands through his coarse hair, needing something to hold as I struggled to breathe through the welcome throbbing.
“I own you,” he snarled.
I swallowed hard, moaning. The old Ellie would have thought that was so oppressive, so barbaric, so degrading. But this new, enlightened person I’d become didn’t. I knew Dante loved me, respected me, admired me. I also knew he had a carnal need to claim me as his. I’d realized that about him from the very beginning. And I wanted to be branded by him, wanted his mark left on me, inside and out.
“Say it.” His hand shifted to my throat once more, his lips skimming my neck.
I felt lightheaded, my chest heaving as I struggled to make sense of the need filling me. I was desperate to feel Dante’s skin on mine, to kneel before this man and make him feel as admired as I had all night.
“You own me,” I murmured. When he loosened his hold on me, I used the opportunity to turn around and face him. I grabbed his hand in mine, placing it over my heart. “You own this. You have since the very beginning.”
The animalistic craving in his gaze faltered momentarily, my words cracking the armor he wore. I stepped away from him and reached behind me, slowly lowering the zipper on my gown, shrugging out of the straps and allowing it to pool at my feet. I stood in front of him, wearing nothing but the jewelry he bought me and my shoes, my panties still tucked in the breast pocket of Dante’s tuxedo jacket.
Approaching him once more, I took his hand in mine again. I moved to bring it back to my breast, then caught him by surprise when I forced it between my thighs instead. “And this… This is all yours.”
His eyes darkened with pure unmatched hunger, a greed unlike any I’d seen consuming him.
“Say it again,” he demanded as he played with my folds, spreading my wetness around.
“It’s yours.”
“What is?” He pushed a finger inside, setting off sparks as he fucked me with his finger. It wasn’t gentle or restrained by any stretch of the imagination. He was a man on a mission. A mission to make me come as fast and as hard as he could, to rip my orgasm from me, to make me surrender completely to him.
“My pussy,” I breathed, closing my eyes as my brain thought about one thing and one thing only…the way Dante had the ability to bring me so much pleasure with just a few carefully measured strokes. My insides warmed, my legs becoming weak. The only thing keeping me upright was Dante’s hand glued to my back, pinning my body to his.
“Damn straight it is,” he hissed. “I’m the only man who will ever fuck this pussy again.”
“Yes,” I moaned, the increased frenzy of his motions pushing me higher and higher.
“What were you thinking about when I finger-fucked you during the ceremony earlier?”
“How I knew it was wrong but wanted even more.” I didn’t even pause to contemplate an appropriate response. I didn’t have to. Dante never judged me, never demeaned me for giving voice to my desires, my needs. Instead, he guided and nurtured them, making me realize exactly what I wanted. “How I wished we could have a repeat of the last time I wore that dress.”
“The museum?” he asked coyly.
All I could do was nod, my body wound tight. It didn’t matter that I’d been the welcome recipient of an incredible orgasm just a few hours ago. My body hungered for its next release.
“Did you like it when I bent you over and fucked you?” His motions slowed, and I groaned, desperate to feel him harder, faster, deeper. “When I stuck my finger in your ass?”
“God, yes.” I moaned, his rhythm decreasing even more. I pulsed against him, but he tightened his grip on me, holding my orgasm captive. It was his way of reminding me who was in charge. And I was all too happy to relinquish complete control to him. If the orgasm I had earlier was any indication, I had a feeling the next one would shatter me. All because I was able to shut off and stop thinking for a minute. Nothing mattered right now. Not the unanswered questions in our past. Not the uncertainty of our future. All that mattered was the present, being here with Dante, surrendering everything else to him.
“Thinking about that just made you wetter, didn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Why? What did you like about that?”
“Everything.” His fingers lingered between my legs, but were now barely touching me. I racked my brain, trying to come up with something, anything so he’d touch me again, so he’d make me come again.
“What specifically, Eleanor? Tell me.”
“Just… Just everything, Dante.”
A chill washed over me, the warmth no longer between my legs as Dante pulled his hand back. I opened my eyes, watching as he raised his hand to his mouth, slow, torturous, agonizing. He darted his tongue out, about to taste my arousal on his fingers when he suddenly changed course, bringing them to my lips.
“Suck,” he ordered.
Holy shit.
My adrenaline spiked as I kept my eyes glued to his. I brushed my tongue against the tip of his finger, barely touching, the contact light. Then I wrapped my lips around them, tasting me and him, the combination making me burn, making me want to crawl on top of him, our two bodies fusing together, never to be parted. He forced two additional fingers into my mouth. I eagerly took them, swirling my tongue, sucking them deeply, fully, wanting every last drop.
“Enough!” his gruff voice cut through the silence as he ripped his fingers from my mouth.
“Enough?” I peered up at him through coquettish eyes. Lowering my hand to his waist, I palmed his erection, the bulge in his pants unmistakable. “I thought we were just getting started, Dante.”
He clutched my wrist, preventing me from teasing him any further, and tugged me against his hard body. Before I had a chance to catch my breath, he grabbed the back of my neck, his mouth bruising mine. His kiss was rough, jarring, turbulent, piercing my soul and penetrating my heart with the way he devoured me, the way he held me, the way he needed me.
Desperate for more of him, I tore my lips away and reached for his belt. Again, he caught my hands, stopping me.
“What do you think you’re doing, Eleanor?”
“Undressing you.” I was a mess of hormones, blind to everything else. “I need to feel you. Inside me. Above me. Below me. However you want it. I don’t care. Just let me feel you,” I pleaded. This man could make me beg without asking, make me burn without lighting the match, make me submit without demand.
“Not yet.”
I knew those words were coming, but I didn’t want to hear them. I’d never felt so reckless, so rash, so…unlike myself. Dante liked foreplay. I often wondered if he preferred it over the actual act of intercourse. But I didn’t want foreplay. This whole evening had been foreplay. My lungs burned to breathe him in, my throat ached to moan his name, my insides heated with the promise of what was to come.
“Please.” My hands landed on his wide shoulders, tugging the suit jacket down his arms. “I’ll do anything, Dante. I just…” My eyes floated to his, passing him a demure look. “I need you to fuck me, Dante.”
My fingers trailed along his bowtie, my lips sensually kissing that sweet spot between his neck and shoulder. When he seemed to lose himself to the moment, I yanked the tie from his collar before unbuttoning his shirt. I’d only gotten through three buttons before he stopped me.
“Eleanor,” he said through a tight jaw.
“Yes?”
He studied me for a prolonged moment, both of our chests heaving in near unison. “Go to the bedroom. Grab the eye mask from the nightstand and put it on. Then lie down and wait for me. Don’t get off that bed. Do you understand?” His tone was even, at complete odds with the way my heart pounded in my chest. I remained motionless for a moment, then he barked, “Answer me.”
“Yes, Dante.” I spun from him, doing as he asked, as he demanded.
Slipping into the bedroom, I found the mask, then turned down the covers and settled onto the mattress, pulling the mask over my eyes so I couldn’t see anything. Just like the other night when he had me wear this very eye mask, my other senses became heightened.
My skin ached with a dull throbbing. I found myself constantly squeezing my legs together to get some relief. A part of me thought about touching myself to dampen the pressure that was ready to explode, but I didn’t. I wanted Dante to have my orgasm, to own all of them, just like he owned me. The minutes ticked by, my racing heart a metronome keeping time as I waited. And waited. And waited.
When I was about to storm into the living room and berate Dante for being an insufferable tease, I felt the bed dip, a warm body slithering up mine. I moaned, my muscles relaxing as teeth grazed my skin, licking, sucking, admiring. I couldn’t see what he was doing. Didn’t know where he was looking. Didn’t know where he would touch me next. But I didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were cloudy with lust, his pupils dilated with anticipation.
“Good girl,” he said as I arched into him, his mouth clamping over my nipple. “You follow direction exceedingly well. I was expecting a bit of pushback from you tonight, but you played along quite nicely. Especially now.” He dragged his tongue across my breast, taking his time, savoring the taste of my skin. “Did you think I was going to make you wait for me all night?”
“The thought had begun to cross my mind,” I answered. “I was about to drag you in here.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Eleanor. That would be breaking the rules,” he said coyly. “I asked you to come into the bedroom and stay here. Not stay here until you couldn’t take it anymore, then come get me.” The heat of his breath hovered close and I craned my head, aching to feel his lips on mine. But he remained just out of reach, the pressure becoming unbearable. “Do you know what happens if you don’t follow the rules?”
“What?” I swallowed hard, my throat becoming dry.
“You’ll be punished.”
His fingers found my nipple and he squeezed, causing me to scream, more out of surprise than pain. It didn’t hurt, not like it had the first time he’d done this same thing. Now, it was incredibly pleasurable, even satisfying, as if it quenched a hidden yearning that had been suppressed for years.
“Now, Eleanor,” he continued, releasing his hold on me, leaving me a panting, unhinged web of need.
My brain had turned into complete mush. My sole motivation was to do anything I had to in order to get him to keep making me feel, to keep propelling me higher, to keep pushing the limits of how far I could take this. And I wanted to take it all the way. Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was the ambience of the evening. Maybe it was the game we’d been playing. Whatever the reason, I wanted Dante to dominate me. I wanted him to control me. I wanted him to punish me. Despite all my preconceived notions of power exchanges, giving this to him made me feel powerful, fierce, commanding.
“What do you think a good punishment would be?”
“Whatever you want to do to me,” I replied in a barely audible voice.
“Do to you?”
A lithe finger snaked from my collarbone down my sternum, stopping just above my waist. My muscles clenched, anticipation of what was to come keeping me on edge. The instant I felt him between my legs, I feared I would shatter into a million pieces, unable to find all of them to put myself back together again. Maybe I didn’t want to be put back together. Maybe I needed the missing pieces. Maybe Dante was my missing piece.
“But you haven’t misbehaved.” He lowered his mouth to my stomach, his tongue circling my navel — soft, warm, wet.
“Maybe I want it anyway.”
“That’s not the way the game’s supposed to be played.”
I arched my back, pushing my pelvis toward him as his mouth leisurely trailed a fiery path down my stomach, hovering so close to where I needed him. Blinded by lust, my need to feel ruled my actions. Reaching down, I ran my fingers through his hair, a tiny moan of appreciation rolling from his mouth.
“Do I need to tie you up, too?” he mused, firmly gripping my hand.
A rush of adrenaline coursed through me at the thought of being bound, unable to move, to see, completely at Dante’s mercy.
“I wouldn’t complain,” I said coyly, squirming as the heat of Dante’s mouth grew closer and closer to my center. I held my breath, waiting for that first flick of his tongue, that first drag of his fingers. But it never came.
“Dante…”
“Yes, amore mio?”
“What are you doing?”
“Admiring you,” his deep baritone answered, the heat of him still so close to me.
“Please, Dante.”
“Please, what?”
“You know what.”
“Yes, I do.” His hands gripped my thighs, bruising, marking, claiming. He raked them down my legs, his hold only becoming more severe, more greedy, more agonizing. Slow. Tedious. Torturous. “Eleanor…” His voice was almost a growl as he reached my feet and carefully slid them out of the heels I still wore.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to grab your hand and help you up.”
“Up? But—”
Before I could utter another syllable, his mouth was over mine, swallowing my words, capturing my protest. I stiffened momentarily, then melted into his welcome assault, deepening the exchange. His kiss stole my breath and arrested my heart.
“Remember our game,” he murmured against my lips.
“Yes, Dante,” I answered. I would agree to anything he wanted if it meant he’d kiss me like that again, leaving me soulless, motionless, thoughtless.
“Good.”
I felt the bed dip, then he grabbed my arm, helping me to my feet. My breathing increasing, he led me a few steps, then stopped. Based on what I knew of the layout of the room, unless my direction was incredibly off, we were probably standing right in front of the French doors leading to the balcony. I could almost see the twinkling lights of Los Angeles fourteen floors below us.
His hand pressed against my lower back and he crushed me to him, his body still clad in his tuxedo. A warmth danced on my lips and I held my breath, anticipating his kiss.
“Do you trust me?” he murmured, ghosting his mouth over mine.
Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes.”
“If it’s too much, just tell me. Just say game over.”
I swallowed hard. “Like a safe word?”
“I suppose.” He ran his thumb across my lips.
“Have you ever used a safe word before?” I asked, unsure what had possessed me to do so. Perhaps I was just curious about his past. We never discussed previous lovers all that much, at least not in detail. I never pressed him, probably because, for the longest time, I didn’t think it mattered. I had every intention of never seeing him again once I left Italy. Now I found myself curious as to his own history.
“I won’t lie to you, Eleanor. Before I met you, I had used them on occasion.”
“Why are you just using them with me now?” A seed of doubt planted in my brain.
“Because I knew you were different from everyone else.”
My expression fell slightly. A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest and he pulled me tighter against him. His lips found my neck, his motions delicate, gentle, loving.
“Believe me when I tell you it’s a good thing. From the minute I set my eyes on you, my heart knew you were so much more than a woman I would lose myself in for a little while in order to deal with all the things in my life I had no control over. You make the past not hurt as much.”
“Then why—”
He pressed a finger over my lips. “This is for you.”
“For me?” I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Do you trust me, Eleanor?”
“Of course.”
“Then trust me when I say this is all for you, to make you feel more powerful than anyone in your life has ever allowed you to feel.” He released his hold, a chill washing over me. Then the French doors opened, the chill becoming even more pronounced as the crisp September air hit my naked flesh.
Dante’s hand found mine and I made no move to protest when he led me onto the balcony, completely bare and exposed to the world below. Dante was right. Something about this did make me feel bold, undaunted. I could only imagine how I would feel after whatever else he had in store. In my old life, I stayed away from the unknown, preferring to have every minute of my day scheduled, having a plan for every situation I may find myself in. But here, the mystery, the unknown, the promise of what was to come only heightened my confidence.
When his lips whispered against my temple, my breathing grew ragged. “Get on your knees, Eleanor.” His voice sounded demanding once more.
Without questioning, I slowly lowered myself to my knees, Dante helping me. My legs were a little unsteady, nerves filling me. I had a million questions on the tip of my tongue, begging to be unleashed. But that was the old Ellie. She needed to know exactly what would happen. She needed to know the location of every piece of patio furniture, how many cars lined the street below, how many windows in the hotel were lit, wondering if anyone would catch a glimpse of our interlude. This new Eleanor didn’t care. This new Eleanor did something that had never come easily to her before… This new Eleanor trusted. Yes, I could come up with a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t trust Dante, but I did. I hoped it wasn’t foolhardy of me to do so.
As my knees hit the balcony, I was surprised to be met with a soft cushion instead of the cold cement. I couldn’t see, but I could visualize my surroundings from the little bit of time I spent out here. Lining the entire perimeter of the expansive suite, it was wide enough to fit an eight-seat patio table, several lounge chairs, and a couch, all with plenty of room to spare.
Dante’s fingers traced the curve of my face, and I drew in a shaky breath, every muscle in my body tightening.
“Don’t be nervous, passerotta.”
“I can’t help it.” I laughed apprehensively. “I don’t do well with the unknown.”
“Which is exactly why I want to do this with you, why I want to give this to you. You may kneel before me right now, my beautiful Eleanor…” He cupped my cheek, the feeling of his flesh on mine warming me, “but I worship at your feet, praise your very presence, lay prostrate before you. You are my queen, my goddess, my innamorata. Never forget that. All of this, what we’re about to do, is for you. You are in complete control, not me. Capisci?”
“Yes, Dante,” I breathed, darting my tongue out to moisten my lips.
“Bene.” He dragged his finger down my neck, across my collarbone. The fire in his touch lit a blazing path down my arm. He grabbed one wrist, then the other, pinning them behind my back. My heart drummed in my chest, the sound deafening, piercing, powerful. If I could hear it, surely Dante could, as well.
Instantly, he was behind me, his front to my back, his arousal noticeable against me. He must have been kneeling now, too.
“From the moment I laid eyes on you…,” he began, his voice deep and fevered. A soft silk material looped around my wrists, my breathing increasing exponentially as I pictured what I must look like right now, kneeling on a cushion on a balcony of this luxury hotel, blindfolded, bound, completely at the mercy of another person. “I knew you were dangerous.” His hand found my neck and he forced my head back, his fingers digging into my skin.
I panted, his tone a mixture of predatory and kind at the same time. “Dangerous?” I struggled to say.
“Yes. Dangerous. I knew once I heard your voice, peered deeply into your pained eyes, allowed myself to fall into you, I’d never be the same man.” He released his hold on my throat, his hand skimming down my body, growing closer to my breasts. “Like you, Eleanor, I had a plan. And you were not supposed to be a part of that plan.”
His fingers lightly squeezed one of my nipples, the pink bud pebbling under his touch. It wasn’t rough or callous as I expected it would be.
“Harder,” I pleaded.
The slightest hint of a groan rumbled from his throat, as if he was at war with himself, as if he wanted to prolong the game, but at the same time, bury himself in me, mark me, claim me, brand me, do whatever he had to in order for the world to know I belonged to him…and he me.
“This wasn’t supposed to be my life. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What?” I arched into him, throwing my head back as he ran his hand down my stomach.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”
“Then why did you?” My voice was breathy, husky, full of need.
“Because of fate. Because she knew I needed this. That I needed to love again. That I could have everything I’d ever dreamed of in you.”
“What’s that?” I swallowed hard, a hint of unease filtering into my brain, a tiny voice reminding me that I wasn’t nearly as experienced or adventurous as Dante seemed to be. Before I met him, I’d never even been on top during sex, let alone kneeling, blindfolded and tied up. What if he just wanted me now because I was new and exciting, a shiny plaything? What if he got bored? What if I couldn’t live up to what he wanted, what he needed?
“You. Now and forevermore.”
“Even if I need to end the game?” I asked in a timid voice.
With haste, he removed the mask from my face, scrambling in front of me so he could peer into my eyes, questioning, concerned. “Is it too much?” He searched my face, frantic. “I never—”
I pressed my mouth to his, ripping his words from him. His body stiffened, confused. I ran my tongue along his lips, coaxing them open. Finally, he melted into me, our kiss sweet, soft, tender.
I pulled away so he could see the determination in my gaze. “Put it back on, Dante.” Then I lowered my eyes, portraying a more subservient version of myself. When he made no move to slip the mask back over my face, I lifted my gaze to his. “Please, sir,” I added, then lowered my head even more.
With a groan, he raised the mask, returning it to my face, my world dark again. It was quiet on the balcony, the only sound that of my breathing pierced with the occasional car whistling by at the late hour.
Emboldened by his love, concern, and my desire to be able to live up to what he needed, I murmured, “I want to taste you.” My muscles tightened as I licked my lips, desperate to please Dante, to make him experience the same high I did every time he drove into me.
He cupped my cheek in his rough hand. I melted into the contact, the warmth like a comforting bath, easing all my worry, washing away my sins.
“I pray to God every day and thank him for you, mia bella passerotta.” His thumb ghosted against my lips and I opened eagerly, my tongue darting out to taste his skin. I heard him draw in a shaky breath, even the muscle in his finger tightening as I sensually sucked on it, giving him a preview of what he could expect. “I thank him for your love…” I heard the faint rustling of clothes, a zipper lowering, causing my heart to soar in my chest. Then he removed his thumb from my mouth, leaving me greedy for more, an addict ready to claw at her skin for her next fix. “For your devotion to me…” The sound of fabric hitting the balcony made its way to my ears. “And for this beautiful fucking mouth.”
He pressed his erection against my lips. I was all too eager to open for him. When I did, his hips thrust with a fevered rhythm. The sudden motion caught me off guard, my body stiffening as I struggled to keep pace.
He ran his finger down my cheek and jaw. “Relax your muscles, passerotta. I want you to taste all of me.”
I drew as deep a breath as I could, doing my best to follow his instructions. He wrapped his hand around my hair, guiding me.
“Yes,” he hissed. I could almost picture the bliss and ecstasy rolling over his face, his eyes closed, his jaw clenched. “Just like that.”
He continued pushing into me, driving a little deeper each time. I relaxed my fists, the rest of the muscles in my body following suit. With his next thrust, he hit the back of my throat, the growl coming from him making me feel more alluring, more alive, more complete than anything else in my life.
“Shit, Eleanor,” he groaned, his erection becoming rigid. He slowed his motions, but I continued, finding my rhythm, relaxing my throat with each drive to take even more of him as he grew bigger and harder, veins bulging, muscles throbbing.
He released a strangled cry, then quickly let go of me, stepping back. A chill washed over me.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked softly, lowering my head. I was desperate to feel him, to taste him, to please him.
Apart from his labored breathing, it was silent. Then I felt his lips on mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth, exploring with haste, with need, with unmatched hunger.
He pulled away, panting. “Quite the opposite. I was about to lose it, Eleanor. And as much as I want to shoot my cum down your throat…” There was a brief pause, “I’d rather shoot it in here.” His hand rested on my stomach, then traveled past my hipbone, my muscles clenching as he lifted my folds, spreading my wetness around.
Licking my lips, I gingerly shifted my legs farther apart. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my elbow and helped me to my feet. He quickly loosened the silk material binding my wrists behind me, then re-secured them in front of me. He raised my arms, hooking them around his neck, and lifted me, carrying me. I counted his steps. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. I couldn’t tell which direction we had walked. All I knew was we were still outside.
With me enclosed in his secure embrace, he nuzzled my neck, inhaling a long breath. “Do you trust me?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“It’s very important that I keep hearing you do. That’s the only way this will work.”
“I trust you, Dante.”
He carefully lowered my feet before gripping my hips and placing me on a smooth surface. I would have given anything to be able to feel around to see where I was. I could have been on the dining table. The built-in wet bar. One of the side tables. The wide ledge of the balcony. God, I hoped I wasn’t on the ledge. My heart rate picked up, my entire body tightening.
“Don’t let go, no matter what.”
“Dante…” I couldn’t mask my panic.
“I love you, Eleanor. I would never do anything you couldn’t handle, anything that would put you in harm’s way. I need you to understand that everything I’ve done since you walked onto that plane back in June, every decision I’ve made, has all been to keep you safe.”
I opened my mouth to respond, his words laced with a thousand hidden meanings.
“It’s all been to keep you safe,” he murmured, pushing into me before I could voice any further hesitation. All concern about what his words could refer to disappeared almost instantly, my brain and mind consumed with only one thought, with feeling, with experiencing.
One hand palmed my back, his other tangled in my hair. I had no idea where I was, whether I was somewhere safe and secure or dangling precariously off a fourteenth-floor balcony. But even if I were poised on that ledge, I knew I was safe and secure. I would always be safe and secure as long as I had Dante.
I arched into him, pulsing against him with more intensity, more urgency, more everything. I was close…so close. My muscles clenched. My toes curled. A heat burned low in my stomach. A match struck, flaming my need. I didn’t think I’d ever get my fill of this man. It didn’t matter how much he gave. I would take and take, greedy, needy, ravenous.
Able to read my body, he clamped his mouth on mine, stealing a kiss, a thief swindling an abiding victim. “Come for me, Eleanor. Now,” he growled. At the same instant, he removed the mask from my face, my eyes widening as my fear became a reality. My grip on him tightened, pulse skyrocketing as I struggled not to watch the eye mask leisurely float fourteen floors below me.
Dante grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes back to his. “Don’t look at anything else. Just look at me. Only see me.” He drove into me with hunger, need, everything, waves cresting and crashing inside me. My body catapulted higher, any fear I’d momentarily felt leaving me as I came hard, fast, violently, my legs tightening around his waist, wanting more, wanting all of him. Moaning. Screaming. Shattering.
“That’s right, baby,” Dante grunted, chasing his own orgasm.
I met his eyes, noticing the tie around my wrists had loosened from all the friction. My heart racing, I broke free from my bindings, keeping my gaze trained on Dante as I clutched onto his biceps, gingerly using his arms to steady me as I leaned back.
“Eleanor, what are you—”
“I trust you,” I interrupted. “You gave me my wings.” My words came out breathy as I placed my hands behind me on the wide ledge. It felt like I was in another world, another time, another universe. “Now I want to fly.”
He muttered something in Italian, his rhythm relentless as he fucked me on the balcony of a luxury hotel in Los Angeles, the stars fighting to be seen among the twinkling lights of the city.
“You. Are. Mine.” His voice was strained, grunting a word with each thrust. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“I. Own. You.”
God, it was so barbaric, so demeaning, but so satisfying to hear those words leaving his mouth. It was true. This man owned my body. My heart. My soul.
“Say it!”
I closed my eyes, leaning even farther back, my body on the precipice of falling over the edge with him.
“You own me, Dante.”
His body tightened as he cried out my name, a warmth spreading through me. I clenched around him again, this orgasm even more intense, more powerful, more violent. Instantly, he pulled me into his arms and away from the ledge, out of harm’s way, pausing to catch his breath. I rested my head against his chest, my heart drumming in time with his.
Neither one of us said a word as he held me, taking a moment to allow us to come down from our high. Then he carried me back into the suite and placed me on what had become my side of the bed, pulling the luxurious duvet over me. My body still tingled with the aftershocks of my orgasm, but I was exhausted, my eyes struggling to stay open.
The other side of the bed dipped and Dante’s arms were around me once more, enveloping my small body. His fingers grazed my nape, unfastening my necklace before delicately removing my bracelet and earrings, as well.
“I adore you, amore mio.” He brushed my hair behind my ear, leaving a soft kiss on my neck.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I murmured in a tired voice, a satisfied grin pulling on my lips as I melted into the mattress, sleep just a blink away.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
It was quiet for a moment before I said, “Dante?”
“Hmm?”
“Can we play that game again sometime? I really liked that game.”
I felt him harden against me. “Of course, my beautiful Eleanor. Now sleep, my queen, my goddess.” He pulled me even closer, his lips lingering on my nape. “I’ll be your knight in shining armor and slay all the dragons that find you in your sleep.”
I briefly stilled, wanting to ask him what he meant by that, but my brain refused to tell my mouth to open, my voice box to say the words. I drifted off, spiraling far away from the glitz and glamour of this fake life I’d been living with Dante as dreams I wouldn’t realize I’d been having for several more weeks tormented me, making me cry out, scaring Dante more than anything else…more than walking in on the mother of his child with a needle in her arm, more than holding his mother’s hand as she drew her last breath, more than watching a child-sized casket be lowered into the ground.
Maybe if he had said something, if someone had, I would have figured out the truth long ago.
Then again, maybe that was precisely why no one had told me.