Craving (11 page)

“Hold still, Kitten.” Cool fingers brushed my neck as he freed my hair, then hauled the sweatshirt away and liberated me. “Is this your boyfriend’s?” He stood, bare inches from me, holding the bunched hoodie against his stomach. I shook my head, my mouth dry and tongue useless. His head cocked to one side, silver eyes darting back and forth over my face. “I can’t resist you.” A whisper. My racing heart stepped up another gear as he raised one hand and slowly cupped it around my nape. A possessive gesture. I’d take offence if it were anyone else. Instead, I leaned forward to meet his lips with a vicious running commentary inside my head.

Was it really only two days since I’d met him?

I hungered for Dante in a way I’d never known before. If our lips had ignited last time…this was nuclear meltdown.
He’s not relationship material
. All my senses sang out. I burrowed against his muscled chest, my fingers curled into his faded sweat top, and I held on as though I would never let go. He groaned, a rumble deep inside his throat that I felt through my lips. My knees wobbled with the sheer giddiness of the kiss.
My father will be furious.
And all the time, one constant in this shifting vortex of sensations: Dante’s mouth on mine.

He might break my heart
. This alone made me pause… But, I’d rather have a broken heart than never risk love.

Bold now, I released his hoodie and tangled my hands in his hair. I felt a swift movement—he pushed Josh’s top onto the chair and caught me with his other hand, slipping it just under my T-shirt at the back. I shuddered, a jagged shockwave rippling up my spine as his calloused palm burned into my skin. A few inches lower and he’d be inside my panties. I tried to press my body against his, wanting to be even closer.

“You have too many clothes on.” I’d already skimmed one hand down his back and felt several layers. A hoodie. A shirt. A T-shirt underneath.

“Some chick borrowed my leather.” His muffled voice made me snort with laughter. It dissolved into a moan when his lips, soft and warm, began to explore my jawline. His tongue licked the hollow in my throat.
God
. No matter what else happened, I had to have him.

The sound of distant voices broke into my thoughts. I didn’t think it would be my father, but even if it was only the staff, kissing Dante in the kitchen wasn’t my most sensible idea. “Let’s go somewhere more private.” His slow, sexy smile was all the answer I needed. I grabbed his hand and led him out of the kitchen, to the back stairs, and up to my bedroom.

Breathless and half giddy with desire, I led him into my room and kicked the door closed, leaning against it as I gazed at Dante. His eyes hooded, his focus entirely on me. Lifting his hands to gently cup my cheeks, his thumbs caressed my face. “Are you sure about this, Kitten?”

In reply, I hooked my fingers over the chain on his jeans and tugged him closer. “I know what I want.”

His breath hissed as one fingertip brushed his taut stomach.

I swallowed down my nerves. “Why? Are you having second thoughts?”

The intensity of his kiss reassured me. Raw hunger and burning desire all bundled into one very sexy package—and for the moment he was mine.

“Baby, I want to lick you all over.” He pressed a hot kiss at the base of my throat. “I want to see if you have any more freckles.” Another kiss on my shoulder as he pushed the T-shirt away, exposing my bra strap. I jerked at his hoodie. He paused and took a moment to strip the sweat top, and then dragged away his shirt. Just a black T-shirt left. “Now you,” he whispered, as his fingers danced along the hem of my T-shirt. “Can I undress you?”

I gave a small nod, and he removed my T-shirt with a delicate touch, sighing when he saw my breasts. I wore a plain white cotton bra, but the way Dante ate me up with his eyes, I felt as though I wore the finest lingerie. He swallowed as he curved his hands around them, cupping them before dropping his mouth to suckle one nipple through the fabric.
God
. I gasped at the electric shocks arcing through my body, the moist heat of his mouth like a drug to my system. A noise in the background jogged my attention for a nanosecond, but Dante’s fingers were sliding the bra straps down my arms, and my brain gave up trying to think sensibly.

When his lips closed around my nipple, I wailed. Pleasure flooded through me as a surge of moisture erupted between my legs. Another hot, slow lap of my sensitive swollen nipple as I clenched my hands in his T-shirt. Car doors slammed outside, and I paused, half-listening, even while I moaned for Dante. It was probably just the cleaning staff. What was I getting so worried for? My father wouldn’t be home for ages.

5.9 Dante

There were a dozen reasons I shouldn’t be here with Kitten.

I didn’t care about any of them.

From the moment she’d kissed me outside the café, I was hell-bent on this course. Every touch, every shared moment all led up to this point. Kitten and me. Nothing else mattered.

I felt like a poet as I undressed her. I wanted to write sonnets and beautiful words. I wanted to be a better person, for her. I wanted Kitten in ways I couldn’t begin to describe.

We fell on the bed together, arms and legs tangled, with her glorious, magnificent breasts free at last. I feasted on them. A lick here, a nibble there. Rose pink nipples begged for my mouth and Kitten whimpered beneath me as I divided my attention between them both. She retaliated by closing her hand around my cock, already straining painfully inside my jeans.
Jesus
.

“I told you,” I whispered against her stomach, “I want to take my time. You feel so fucking fantastic, I want to kiss every inch of you.”

“I want to see your tattoos. Take off your T-shirt.”

I had to smile. Even in the throes of passion, my Kitten wanted to be in charge. I complied. Tugging the T-shirt over my head, I straddled her thighs and sat still, waiting while she examined me. I sucked in my breath as she traced the spiral of ivy leaves with her fingertips; whisper soft, they explored my skin in a way no woman had ever done before.

Her fingers rippled across my stomach next and then circled the piercing in my nipple. I’d chosen a silver hoop, simple and stylish. I tensed under her exploration and she paused.

“Does it hurt if I touch it?”

“No,” I breathed. “It makes everything more intense.”

She sat up, leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss onto the piercing. I nearly came in my pants. I’d never felt anything so erotic before. I gasped for breath, trying for some semblance of control. “Kitten—baby—that feels too good.”

I palmed her breasts, cupping their generous curves and flicking my thumbs over the pert nipples.

“Dante,” she breathed as she tunneled her hands into my hair. With her head thrown back, she looked wanton and so hot. I blinked. Such a beautiful sight. I didn’t deserve to have someone as perfect as Kitten. I eased forward and buried my nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent and licking up the curve of her throat.
Christ
. She felt good. I fought the urge to take her fast and hard. She deserved better.

I reached for her, wanting to find her mouth, needing to slow things down, and she stilled in my arms. Cupping her face, I moved in for a deep kiss—shocked when she clamped one hand across my mouth. “
Wait
.” She cocked her head and listened.

“I’ll be quiet.” I nipped at her palm. “It’s not as though your husband’s due back.” I grinned at my joke. The look of abject horror in her eyes made me freeze.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyes darting left and right. “Don’t say a word. Don’t. Do. Anything.”

Footsteps approached her room. “Oh shit,
no
.” Shrinking back, she fumbled for her T-shirt, finding mine instead. “Oh
God
, he
can’t
find you here, Dante.”

“Who—” before I could say any more, she covered my mouth again. “You have to go. Now.
Right now
.”

“
What
?”

“My father’s home.” I grabbed her hand and pulled it away from my face.

“Kitten, what the fuck is the matter?”

A deep voice called through the closed door. “Katherine, you need to come downstairs. George is on his way.”

Gone was the confident, bossy young woman. In her place sat a trembling girl, ashen-faced and wide-eyed. What the fuck did her father do to her? She looked terrified.

Her voice came out faint. “I’ll just be a minute.” Amber eyes beseeched me as she clung to my arms, gripping as tightly as she’d done on the bike. I went to speak but stopped when she shook her head.

“No,” she mouthed.

The man spoke again. “Bring the wedding plans down with you. George wants to go over the guest list to make sure we even up the numbers on both sides. We have more on your side at the moment.”

What the fuck?

“Don’t keep me waiting, Katherine.” I stared at the door, unsure if I’d heard him right.

As the footsteps receded, I found my voice. “Your father?” She nodded, her eyes fixed on mine. I swallowed hard. “And who’s George?”

In reply she covered her bright red cheeks with both hands and ducked her head.

My stomach clenched. I swallowed hard and pressed on. “He’s talking about a wedding.”

She nodded, still with her eyes averted. I sucked in my breath.

“Yours.” My voice came out flat.
Please don’t say yes, please don’t
…

“Yes.”

Kitten’s hands fumbled as she tried to refasten her bra, then abandoned it to the floor and yanked on the T-shirt in her hands.
Mine
.

My brain churned in slow circles as I watched. I felt remote, disconnected from the panic that surrounded her.

She’s getting married.

Wriggling out from beneath me in a flurry of movement, my shirt and hoodie dumped in my lap. “You’re going.
Now
.” Her voice high and anxious.

Stupid fucker.

Bitterness filled my mouth as I stood up and met her eyes. Standing there, half naked, I should have felt vulnerable. Contempt came to the rescue. “This isn’t funny, Kitten.”

She ignored me and opened her door a crack, peering through the gap.

I dragged my shirt back on and glared at her, my temper barely leashed. “Kitten—
Katherine—
this is not. Fucking. Funny.”

“Believe me,” she tossed over her shoulder, hair swirling in a russet cloud as she moved. “It’ll be even less funny if my father sees you here. This is one battle I’m not ready for.” She hesitated. “Not yet anyway.”

“So what was this all about? Just a quick fuck before you tie the knot?” I didn’t bother to fasten the shirt. “Fancied a bit of rough, eh?”

A flash of pain in her eyes. I’d obviously hit the mark.

More fool me
.

She caught my arm as I snatched up the hoodie. Her voice urgent. “Dante, you don’t understand–”

“I understand perfectly.” It may feel as though she was ripping out my guts with a rusty knife, but I’d never let her know that. Nan’s warning rang in my head.
The best you’d get would be a major head fuck.
How right was that.

“You
don’t
.” Her eyes darkened and little spots of color rose on her cheeks. Damn, she looked gorgeous. “Just give me a couple of days.”

I almost laughed. A couple of days and then she’d try to pussy-whip me again?
Yeah right
.

“I’ll ring you, Dante.” A whisper.

My fingers clenched tight, I stepped toward her, face to face. So close I could have kissed her. “Fuck you, Katherine.” Summoning every ounce of bravado I possessed, I yanked the door open and sauntered into the corridor.
Icy
and
control
could be my middle names. I had to push past her. The feel of her skin almost broke me.

“
This way
.” She pushed me toward a narrow staircase and hurried me back down to the kitchen, her hand on my shoulder.

“I need my helmet and my leather.” Shaking free, I stalked to the chair where I’d dumped them earlier. They were gone. “Where’s my fucking gear?”

“
Hell’s teeth
.” Her face was pale, mouth a tight line, and as I scowled she raked both hands through her hair. “I don’t know. I’ll go and look.”

“Fuckin’ A.” This was all I needed. I glared at the vacant chair and cast my eyes around, hoping it would materialize.

The kitchen was huge, bigger than most people’s living rooms and decked out with shiny, expensive looking equipment. The work surface nearest to me was liberally strewn with small, gleaming objects, and I paused to take a closer look. It must have been there earlier and I hadn’t noticed. Silverware, small ornaments and an empty bottle of metal polish. A job half done. Indecision warred inside me. Kitten’s father was loaded. I could take something small, and they’d never miss it. My hand hovered over the silver teaspoons…and then I saw it. A ribbon with a series of medals dangling. Small enough to fit in my pocket and payback for the shitty way Kitten treated me.