Desire's Edge (16 page)
She could hear his rasping breath in her ear. Could feel his erect cock against her stomach. And she was absolutely soaked.
He moved his hand down over her ass, pinching, pinching.
“Spread for me,” he ordered.
She parted her thighs. Gasped when his fingers pinched the lips of her sex. It was too good. Pleasure and pain battling, taking her under. Her nipples were two hard nubs against the lace of her bra. She wanted to feel them against his chest, wanted his punishing fingers pinching them hard.
“Dante, please . . .”
“I love it when you beg,” he told her, giving her another hard twist of his fingers on her flesh.
“Touch me, Dante. I need you. I need to come.”
“You think coming is an appropriate punishment?” he asked her. But she heard the teasing tone in his voice.
“Yes.”
He laughed, moving with her still clasped tightly to his big body. He pushed her down roughly onto the couch. And she loved it, that he handled her this way. Then he was on her, pressing her down into the sofa cushions, the leather cool against her naked bottom. He spread her thighs and dove right in, using his hands to hold her wide-open while he licked her cleft in long, lovely strokes.
“Ah, God, Dante . . .”
He drove two fingers into her, making her gasp. She arched up off the couch, and he answered by thrusting deeper into her body. By sucking her hard clitoris into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. And she came in a shiver of pure pleasure. It was brilliant, burning hot. She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming his name.
He sat up and looked at her.
Watched
her, as he so often did. There was something a little different about the way he was looking at her. Something dark in his eyes, as if he was really
thinking
about something. Considering something. As she looked at him, she could swear she saw something shift, a flash of emotion, but it was gone too quickly for her to be certain. And she was too distracted by the last of her climax humming in her system. By his male beauty.
Watched
her, as he so often did. There was something a little different about the way he was looking at her. Something dark in his eyes, as if he was really
thinking
about something. Considering something. As she looked at him, she could swear she saw something shift, a flash of emotion, but it was gone too quickly for her to be certain. And she was too distracted by the last of her climax humming in her system. By his male beauty.
He was so beautiful she could hardly stand it. But as much as she wanted to reach for him, she knew to keep her arms still at her sides. To let him set the pace. And even that thrilled her.
“You’re ready, Kara.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I need to feel you inside me, Dante.”
“For that, too. But I meant you’re ready for more. You’re ready for the club. I’m taking you to the Pleasure Dome this weekend.”
“Oh.”
Her mind churned, full of flashing images of what the club might be like. Naked bodies, the crack of whips, sensual anticipation heavy in the air.
“Do you like that idea? Because your face just flushed. Gorgeously. The same way you blush when I slip my hands between your thighs. Like this.”
He did just that, his fingers feathering over her still-pulsing cleft. He smiled. “Christ, I love to see you like this. I could stay here and torture you all night. But I need to eat dinner first. Then I need to fuck you. Spank you again. But right now we’ll go to a restaurant. Have some food. And while we have our dinner, you’ll think about the club. About the things I’m going to do to you there.”
“Yes, Dante.” She could barely think. But every thought was about the club, the Pleasure Dome. Being there with Dante. Submitting to him in a way she never had before.
“And, Kara . . .”
“Yes?” she breathed. She was trembling all over. With the last of her climax. With the need to do it again.
“No panties at dinner. I may need you to be naked under that pretty dress.” He pulled it down over her hips and stood, holding his hand out to help her up. “Shall we go?”
The restaurant was a big Italian place close to the water. Good food, excellent wine selection. But Dante didn’t want to drink tonight. He wanted to stay focused on Kara. On what he had in mind for their evening.
They were seated at the back in a quiet corner, as he’d requested. It was one of those curving, red leatherette booths with a long white tablecloth. Perfect.
Kara was leaning into him a little. Loose from her orgasm still. He loved to see her this way. Devoid of her usual reserve. Relaxed.
He ordered their dinner—a light pasta dish for them both—then pulled her closer.
“How are you, beautiful girl?” he asked her.
“Wonderful.”
“You seem a little tense.”
“No. Well. I’m just wondering what you have up your sleeve.” She smiled at him. Stunning. Gorgeous smile. Gorgeous face.
“Ah. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“You like to make me wait. For anything and everything.”
“There’s something about waiting that builds anticipation like nothing else.”
“Is everything you do so well thought out?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes. As a matter of fact, it is.”
“You have such control issues, Dante.”
“You like that about me.”
“I do.”
She was really grinning now. So was he. He liked this easy banter between them. That she took the teasing so well. Dished it back once in a while herself.
“So, what’s going on in that wicked mind tonight?” she asked him, curling into him a little. Her body was warm next to his, her scent in the air, which was something fresh and floral and in direct contrast to the strength of her persona—the one she showed to the outside world.
He leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to get you off right here at the table. And I want you to come before our dinner arrives.”
“Dante!”
“An argument?”
He heard her draw in a long breath. “No.”
He pulled back and smiled at her. She didn’t return the smile. But he could see the desire glimmering in her eyes. In the red fullness of her mouth. He kept smiling at her as he reached under the tablecloth, beneath the hem of her dress. And found the damp heat between her thighs.
“Ah, perfect,” he whispered to her. “Spread for me, Kara. Good.”
She opened her thighs, her eyes going wide as he slid his fingers inside her. Then her lashes fluttered, her gaze glazing as he began to pump gently.
“Keep your eyes on mine,” he told her quietly. “I don’t need to tell you not to let your expression betray what’s going on here.”
“No, Dante,” she answered, arching her hips a little into his hand.
“Not even now,” he instructed, pressing her clit with his thumb.
She bit her lip. His smile widened. He was hard as steel for her. But that could wait.
The waiter brought their drinks and Dante paused for a moment, nodded his head. And began again the moment the waiter turned his back.
“Does this excite you, Kara? To be touched this way in front of all these people?”
“Yes. God . . .”
“Can you come here, in front of all these people? Or is it too much for you?”
“I don’t know . . . Yes. It’s perfect.”
He laughed. “
You’re
perfect,” he told her, thrusting deeper with his fingers, pressing harder and circling with his thumb.
You’re
perfect,” he told her, thrusting deeper with his fingers, pressing harder and circling with his thumb.
She was trying not to writhe. He felt the tension in her muscles. He felt her sex tightening. Those first pre-climax spasms. He moved a little faster. Kept his head close to hers.
“Keep it quiet, beautiful girl,” he commanded. “You can turn your face into my shoulder while you come. Do it now.”
Nothing more than a soft gasp from her as she pressed her face into his shoulder, just as he’d instructed. But he could feel it in her body, that hard shiver, that tight clasp of her sex around his fingers as she climaxed.
Christ, he was hard as rock. His cock ached as she came into his hand. He kept working her until he was certain she was finished. Then he withdrew his fingers from her and tilted her chin so he could see her. Her cheeks were blazing, her eyes glossy, her pupils wide. And as she watched, he pressed the tip of his finger to his lips and licked.
“You taste better than anything they could serve here,” he told her quietly. “You know how I love the taste of you. I can’t get enough.”
She smiled, dropped her head onto his shoulder.
It was true. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her taste. Her sleek skin. Everything.
Crazy.
He was going crazy. Crazy for this girl. As crazy as he’d ever been for her back in high school. Much worse now that he knew the taste of her. Knew her body. Had felt her tremble in his arms with desire. Shattering with pleasure.
He had to get it under control. Certainly before he took her to the Pleasure Dome. Having her there would be like some wild fantasy come true. So much more than it would be with any other woman. Because it was
Kara
.
Kara
.
Oh yes. He was going crazy. Losing it, with her. He didn’t know where it was going to end. He couldn’t even think about it now. All he could think of was Kara. Having her. Tonight. This weekend at the club.
He had to pull himself together. And he would do it. He just had to fuck her first . . .
Control was the name of the game for him. Always had been. Always would be.
She tilted her head to look up at him, those metallic eyes—gold and silver and green—glossy and gleaming in the low light. Christ, she was beautiful. Smart. Elegant.
And he was so full of shit. Because for the first time in his life, something was happening that he didn’t entirely have control over. And that something was Kara Crawford.
nine
Kara was back at her desk the next day, almost as if her night with Dante had never happened. Except for the welts on her ass and thighs that made her smile. That sense of being well used deep in her sex. She loved it.
Why, then, did she feel so agitated today?
She realized she was tapping her nails on the edge of her keyboard and made herself stop. She’d been at work for only an hour, but she’d gotten nothing done. Hadn’t even answered e-mails yet. All she’d done was sit and brood.
She spun her chair to look out the window behind her. The sky was dark, the rain coming down in a gentle sprinkle that promised to get heavier as the day wore on. Usually the clouds and the falling rain made her feel cozy. But today they only made her feel . . . alone. Lonely.
What was going on with her? She’d had another wonderful night with Dante. In his office, at the restaurant, then at his apartment. They hadn’t played too hard—he said he wanted to save her strength for the club Saturday night. And she was excited about going. The idea was thrilling. So why was she so out of sorts?
She’d woken up this way, an hour before Dante’s alarm went off. As usual, he’d dropped her off at home so she could get ready for work. And as she often did when they got together during the week, she’d left her car parked in the garage across from the office, then taken a cab in this morning. But, riding through the gray, damp streets, she’d been moody.
If she thought about it, she’d felt moody the moment she’d woken up. Dante had still been asleep beside her, his big body so still and quiet. She’d leaned closer just to hear him breathe. And she’d felt a little sad.
Maybe this was just some extended bottoming out?
She shook her head, moving her chair back around to face her desk. She had to stop thinking, put these strange feelings aside, and get some work done. She’d never been one to sit around brooding about a man, and she wasn’t about to start now. If this was some bottoming-out thing, she could handle it, just as she handled everything else life had thrown at her. Being submissive didn’t have to mean she was weak. Dante had told her that himself.
Maybe she should call him, ask him about this? She went to reach for the phone, let her hand hover there.
She sighed, and dropped her hand.
Dante. Everything circled back to him these days. And she didn’t like it.
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