A mixture of hormones, all that pent-up passion and frustration, had been swirling around inside me, as if waiting just for this moment, and they burst to life, racing through my bloodstream, making my stomach feel hollowed out. I really did want to swoon.
The stubble from his unshaven beard moved across my jaw and my cheek, stinging as he went, but I loved the way it felt. He smelled so good that I took the chance to press kisses to his strong neck, breathing his cologne in deeply. Yummy. His skin tasted like faint salt and . . . Dante. I moved up to his earlobe, and it was like pouring kerosene on a fire.
He made a noise like a combination of a growl and a groan—right before his mouth ravaged mine, escalating the already intense kissing that had been going on. I started shaking, overwhelmed, clinging to him like a raft in a storm. He was the only solid thing in a world that had gone hazy. His lips enveloped my lips, like he owned them. And me.
My stupid hoop skirt kept getting in the way of me getting closer to him. It was all I wanted, to be as close to him as possible, in every way imaginable. He had possessed me with his hands and his mouth, and I wanted more.
We kissed and kissed as the blood roared through my ears, as I dissolved from his tantalizing promises, worried that I might never feel satisfied again, that it wasn’t enough—it could never be enough.
Then he somehow managed to make the kiss deeper and more intense, and tremors rocked my entire body. I felt like I might suffocate from the lack of oxygen, but I didn’t care.
When he kissed my throat, down to my collarbone, I finally said in a strained voice, “I can’t remember how to breathe.”
“You’re not supposed to,” he said before his mouth returned to mine.
All those girls in my sorority who had talked time and time again about the earth moving and time stopping had annoyed me. I had never understood what they were trying to explain, until that very moment. Because the earth most definitely moved, and time most definitely stopped.
There was only me and Dante.
He broke off the kiss, and I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. We were both breathing hard as we looked at each other. Why had he stopped? My body urged me forward, wanting me to keep kissing him. My lips literally tingled in anticipation.
“Limone, come upstairs with me.”
Chapter 12
Had a dirty dream about you last night. You got stuck in the castle moat and were tracking mud everywhere. What? What did you think I meant?
There was no mistaking what he meant, or what he wanted. My heart beat even faster, and more intently.
It was what I wanted, too.
“Yes.”
It was all he needed. He stood up and then pulled me to my feet. He kissed me again, his hands flat against my back, holding me close. I held on to his shoulders, excited and happy.
He stopped long enough to take me over to one of the elevators. He pushed the button a bunch of times. “Come on, come on,” he muttered.
I giggled and couldn’t help but kiss his shoulder. That made him hoist me up, holding me so that our faces were level. He kissed me again and I loved his strength and masculinity and I wanted to thank whoever had taught him to kiss like that.
Laughter came from somewhere behind us, and I turned to see a group of costumed men pointing and laughing.
At us.
I realized how ridiculous we must have looked, in our costumes, my hoop skirt flipped up in the back as he held me.
When I saw myself the way others could see me, my mouth filled with a sourness and disgust.
I had just finished making plans and promises to change, and here I was. Doing the exact same thing I always did.
Again.
“Stop.”
Confusion on his face. “What is it?’
I pushed against him. “Put me down. Now.”
Stepping away from him, I buried my face in my hands. I was a mess. I was always going to be a mess if I didn’t stop the pattern. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep making the same mistake over and over again.”
I felt bad, I would find someone who would make me feel good, and then I would feel even worse when it was over. I would feel numb and hollow. Something had to change. Something had to give.
That something was me.