I didn’t hesitate. The air in his office felt cool against my heated flesh but it did nothing to alleviate the burning need. Dante unfastened his gun holster without hurry, never taking his eyes off me. “Touch yourself.”
My eyes widened, but again I complied. When he used that voice, I had a hard time resisting. I slid my hand down my body and between my legs. Part of me was embarrassed. That definitely wasn’t something a respectable wife did according to my mother. But the bigger part enjoyed the way Dante’s eyes darkened as he watched my fingers slip between my folds and the way his lips parted. He let the gun holster drop to the floor with a clunk. He was growing hard again as he watched my fingers draw small circles over my clit.
“Put a finger into your *.”
I shook with arousal as I followed his order. I dipped my index finger into my hot core. A muscle in Dante’s cheek flexed and his cock was straining against its prison again. I could see how much he wanted to touch me, to fuck me, but Dante was nothing if not in control of himself and others. He stepped between my legs, gripped my wrists, and I slid my finger out of my tight channel, hoping he’d do it for me now.
“No,” he growled. “Keep fucking yourself with your finger.”
How could he sound so dangerous and sexy at the same time? How could that cold man say such naughty things with utmost authority? I pushed my finger back into myself, even though my clit practically screamed for attention. Dante stared down at me, his jaw tense. He pushed the top of my nightgown down, revealing my breasts. My nipples hardened from the cold and Dante’s piercing gaze. He took my nipples between his forefingers and thumb, and started rolling them back and forth. I arched my back, but didn’t stop fingering myself.
I reached for Dante’s shirt, but he pinched my nipples in warning. “No,” he rasped. I bucked my hips at the sensations rocking through my body, the sensual pain I started to enjoy more than I ever thought I could. Dante’s fingers twisted and rolled my nipples relentlessly. My core quivered with the need to come. “Dante, please.”
He fixed me with a stare, then he released one of my breasts and gripped my arm, stopping me from touching myself further. He pulled my hand away and put it beside me on the desk. He pushed my nightgown up so my * was bare to his eyes. “Don’t come,” he warned.
“What?” I gasped, but the sound turned into a moan when he slid his two middle fingers into me. My muscles clenched around him, gripping his fingers in an iron grip. He started fucking me slowly, his warning gaze on me. “Don’t, Valentina.”
I dug my nails into my palms, trying to fight off the climax. Dante pushed his fingers deep into me and kept them in place while his thumb brushed my clit. I gritted my teeth, my body starting to spasm.
“Do not come,” Dante said huskily.
“Dante…” I shook my head back and forth, sure I was going to burst any moment. Dante curled his fingers in me and pressed down hard on my clit. “Now,” he ordered harshly, and my release crashed down on me with blinding force. My butt arched off the desk as I cried out my release. My hands slid over the smooth surface of the desk, searching for something to hold onto.
“That’s right,” Dante said, his eyes on me. I stilled, feeling drained and sated. Dante slowly pulled his fingers out of me, sending another spike of pleasure through me. He unbuckled his belt, the only thing keeping his open pants in place, and let them drop to the floor. His cock was hard and red and glistening. “Turn around.” I slid off the desk, and stood on unsteady legs for a moment before facing the other way and bending forward. I braced myself on my elbows and jutted my butt out. Risking a peek over my shoulder, I found Dante taking in the sight of me. He kneaded my butt cheeks before gripping his cock and guiding it to my entrance. In one swift movement, he buried himself deep in me. I exhaled and curled my fingers around the edge of the desk, trying to steady myself as Dante started pounding into me. I gasped as he drove himself deeper and deeper into me, making my nipples rub against the cold, smooth desk.
“Am I forgiven?” I gasped out.
Dante growled. He leaned over me, his fingers finding my nub. “I shouldn’t forgive you,” he said between grunts, accentuating every word with a hard thrust. “But for some reason, I can’t stay mad at you.”
A grin tugged at my lips but dropped off my face when Dante hit my g-spot and made me shatter under the force of my climax. Dante tensed behind me as his own release overcame him. My legs were seconds away from collapsing and my chest was probably sore from rubbing over the desk. Dante wrapped his arm around my chest, pulling our bodies flush together and still pumping into me as he left a trail of kisses up my shoulder. He shuddered again and licked my ear. We stayed like that for a couple of moments before Dante stepped back. I pushed myself to my feet. “Will you come upstairs with me?” I asked as I gathered my clothes.