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Authors: Madeline Pryce

BOOK: DarkInnocence
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I found a silky tank and slipped it over my head before
settling on a lace thong to match. Then I collapsed. In the middle of Dante’s
room, I sat with my bare legs pulled to my chest and my arms wrapped around my
calves. Around me, the crumpled contents of my backpack littered the floor. It
reminded me of my life, disheveled and all over the place.

The overall sense of disorder worked its way inside and
destroyed the carefully constructed mental filing system I’d created to cope with
the lingering images. I closed my eyes. My mother’s pale, lifeless face
appeared behind my lids. Her glazed white eyes faded and were replaced with my
father’s. So much thick, dipping liquid.

My thoughts spun, tighter and tighter, circling me, backing
me into a suffocating corner. My chest was tight and my breaths were too
shallow. Sweat slicked my skin and made the thin camisole stick to my flesh. Lizbeth
drew her small pink tongue over her lips, lapping up my blood. Her moan
reverberated through me.

Somehow, and I didn’t remember retrieving it, the lid to the
round pill bottle I clutched dug into my palm, the sting breaking me free from
my thoughts. How many would I need to take to push away the rising anxiety? I
struggled with the child safety cap.

The bedroom door creaked open and I turned my head as Dante
stalked silently into the room. He crouched in front of me and wiped away the
tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed. Resigned, I handed him the bottle of magic
medicine.

“I couldn’t get it open,” I whispered.

“Do you need one?” he asked gently. The tone of his voice
said that even if I’d asked for five he wouldn’t have judged me.

I turned my head so my cheek rested on my knee and sniffled.
“Yes, but I don’t really want to take it. I’ve been drug free since you picked
me up the other night and I threw up in your bathroom.”

Dante sat next to me on the floor, close enough for our
shoulders to touch. He brought the see-through orange bottle in front of his
face. “Ativan,” he read. “What is it?”

“You might know it as lorazepam. It’s an anti-anxiety
medication that slows your central nervous system. If you take enough of them,
it makes you numb.”

He trailed a finger down my cheek. “Is that what you want?
To be numb?”

I shivered at his touch, at the tenor of his voice. “No.”

When Dante touched me, I wanted to feel it. Needed to feel
it.

He flicked his gaze from my eyes to my mouth. I darted my tongue
out to dampen my suddenly dry lips.

“When I was sick—did you sing to me?”

The faintest of blushes colored his cheeks. He grinned a
little boy’s grin. “Didn’t think you’d remember that.”

I laid my head on his sturdy shoulder and closed my eyes. “I
don’t remember the words, only the sound of your voice.”

My mother used to sing to me when I was little, songs I
could still hear when I focused on the sound of her voice. Tears pricked the
backs of my eyes.

He cleared his throat. “My ma used to sing to me all the
time. Bed time, bath time, dinner time. You name it, she sang it.”

I lifted my lids and met his gaze. “Is she still alive?”

Sadness filled his eyes. “Passed away a few years ago to
cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Happens every day. I miss her, but at least
she’s not suffering anymore.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope, just me. Ma always said she took one look at me and
knew I’d be enough to make her happy.”

Funny, I looked at him and thought something remarkably
similar. Maybe he was all I needed too. I uncurled my arms from around my
calves and pivoted to face him. I rose to my knees and leaned into him. His
arms automatically came around me to pull me closer.

“You’re an amazing man, do you know that?” I wound my hands
around the back of his, closed the distance between us and traced my tongue
over his lower lip.

He made a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat and
opened to take full control. He cupped my butt with one hand and the back of my
head with the other as I crawled into his lap. He fisted the back of my silky
top in his hand, pulling the material tight against my breasts.

Between my legs, his cock was a hard ridge I rocked against.
My clit pulsed with pleasure and made me greedy for more. In one swift move,
too graceful for a man his size, he laid me back on the floor and settled above
me. Lizbeth’s face flashed before my eyes and I shoved the image away. Instead,
I concentrated on the golden hue of Dante’s irises and the lust that shone in
their depths.

The breaths I’d had such a hard time finding came a little
easier. He fitted himself between my spread legs, keeping only an inch of space
between us. The heat of his body teased me and I rubbed my bare leg against the
soft material of his jeans. I wanted him naked. I wanted him panting above me
and whispering naughty things in my ear.

“Tell me what you want, Hannah.”

Everything.
I wanted him to possess me, to dominate
me. To make love to me until it was the only memory in my head.

I lifted my head, closed the distance between us and met his
lips. Under the skilled stroke of his tongue, my insecurities melted away.
Right here, right now, no one else mattered.

“I want you to make me come.”

His lids lowered. “What else?”

“I want your heat, your weight on top of me. I want to know
what it feels like to have your cock in my mouth, to make you lose control.”

At my words, he thrust his erection against my center and
sent a wave of pure bliss spiraling through me. He ran a hand down the center
of my chest, over my pounding heart and curved it along my hip.

“I can do that.” He spread his palm and used one finger to
trace a line down my thigh. When he reached my knee, I parted my legs farther
and he reversed direction, stopping only when his knuckles brushed the crotch
of my wet panties. I sucked in a breath.

He mouth brushed my ear. “First, I’m going to make you come
using my fingers.” He nipped the lobe. “Then I’ll use my mouth on your pussy
until you scream.”

My sex clenched. He laved my neck with his tongue and teeth,
each new spot he found ratcheting up my desire for him. A little at a time, he
lowered his body on top of mine. His weight pressed me into the soft carpet and
I drew comfort from his warmth and his strength.

Dante didn’t bother moving my panties aside, he simply
pulled, and the lace ripped under his strength. The thud-thud of my heart
galloped. He traced the lips of my sex with the tip of his finger and I wiggled
beneath him, trying to get closer.

“You’re so wet and warm,” he said softly. “I can smell how
hot you are for me, how much you want me to sink inside you.”

I moaned against him, his husky words a huge turn-on. The
flesh between my legs was wet and dripping with arousal. He teased my pussy
before slowly pushing inside. My muscles clenched around the invasion and I
tilted my hips up for more.

“So fucking tight.” He thrust in, twisted, drew out. When he
pressed back inside, he added another finger to stretch me. He curved his
digits and found my G-spot. On the outside, he rubbed his thumb over the
sensitive pearl of my clit.

The pressure, almost uncomfortable at first, turned to
pleasure when he stroked and rubbed.

“Oh my God,” I moaned and clutched the breadth of his
shoulders.

He lifted his torso off mine and pushed the hem of my tank
top up my belly, over my breasts. Cool air tightened my nipples and I arched my
back, begging him silently to play with the tight nubs. As if he read my mind,
he flicked first one areola and then the other. Bolts of sensation travelled
straight to my core and my inner muscles clamped around his fingers.

A moan fought free, an involuntary reaction.

“That’s it baby, let go for me,” he said and traced my puckered
nipple with his tongue before sucking the peak into the heat of his mouth.

I gripped his hair and held him against my breast.

“Harder,” I moaned and came up off the floor when his teeth
clamped around my flesh. “Yes, oh god, yes.”

He did it again, and again, the sharp bites of pain bringing
me into the first spasms of orgasm. My moans escalated, each coming louder than
the last. It was going to happen. Shock warred with the burning pleasure and I
tensed, willing the release to come. He curved his fingers inside me, flicking
the tight bundle of nerves deep within. So close. So very close.

I could see it. Almost touch it. I squirmed beneath the
onslaught of impending pleasure and waited for a miracle. Then the thought hit
me. Would Dante give up like every other guy I’d let try? Hell, what if my body
wasn’t capable of reaching that final pinnacle? I mean, I knew I
could
orgasm. I’d masturbated before and gotten off, but nothing had ever felt this
intense.

I’d never wanted it this badly.

Dante tongued my nipple, a sexy curling rasp and my gasp was
so sharp it sucked in my stomach. I opened my eyes and met his aroused gaze.

He curved his lips up in a soft, gentle smile while he
slowly fucked me with his fingers. “You’re thinking too hard, babe. Relax and
trust that I’ll see you through this. You feel me?”

Oh, I felt him. He added a third finger and twisted. I
nodded as quickly as I could, terrified he’d give up on me and prove he wasn’t
the sex god I’d made him out to be. I wasn’t sure I could stand the disappointment.

“I’m almost there,” I panted and hoped it wasn’t a lie.
Maybe I should just fake it?

Dante shook his head. “You get there and then you tense up
and retreat into that head of yours. Stay here, with me.”

I bit my lip and focused on the potent sexual hunger
emanating from him. He used the pad of his thumb to press against my clit and
my pulse sped. He massaged me inside, outside, up, down, all around. When he
closed his teeth around the pebbled tip of my areola and tugged, something
within pulsed. The pleasure gathered into a heat so intense it burned.

I tensed, instinctually fought the almost paralyzing
sensation.

It wasn’t going to happen. I shook my head and panted
through a sob of frustration. “This was a bad idea. I don’t think I can.”

Dante withdrew his fingers and moved up my body until his
chest pressed to mine and we were eye to eye. Disappointment washed over me and
I turned my head away, ashamed and frustrated when he tried to catch my gaze
with his. One more failure to add to my growing pile.

He took my chin between his fingers and brought my face
straight so I had no choice but to look at him.

“Talk to me.” His voice was husky yet soft.

I shrugged and wished I wasn’t naked. Where he touched my
skin, his fingers were damp with my arousal. Proof that one of us had failed.

“Hannah.” My name from his lips was a demand I couldn’t
deny.

“No one’s ever made me come before.”

Knowledge filled his gaze as if knew exactly how to solve
the problem.

“You trust me?” he asked.

I drew my lower lip between my teeth, bit down. Did I? He’d
saved me, stood by me. He’d shown me nothing except patience.

“I do,” I said after a long pause.

“Good. Stop worrying about how long it takes and just let
yourself feel. Focus on the sensation, let it build and when you reach the
point where you tense up, trust that I’ll be there on the other side to catch
you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Patient and calm, he slid his fingers between my thighs and
into my swollen pussy. I gazed into his eyes, took his strength and gave myself
over to him. In and out, he played my body better than I could have. With his
free hand, he cupped my breast and teased my nipple with flicks and pinches
that kept my thoughts at bay.

“That’s it baby, you’re so wet and ready.”

His voice, more than the words, kept me grounded through the
approaching chaos. Pleasure climbed higher and higher, peaking as my climax
stole over me. Instead of pulling back, I pushed. My entire body tensed,
muscles clenching from the contractions deep within me. I couldn’t breathe. I
couldn’t scream. I could do nothing but clamp down around his fingers and ride
out the waves of electrifying sensation.

I came back to earth with tears in my eyes and a warm,
blissful lethargy weighing my limbs. Holy hell, he’d actually given me an
orgasm.

Voice husky and rough, eyes feral and hot with desire, he
said, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, you coming apart on my fingers like that,
knowing I’m the first man to ever make you come. Now I’m going to do that with
my mouth.”

Dante lifted off me only long enough to pull my camisole
over my head, and then attack his own shirt and throw it behind him. With a
hand pressed to either side of my head, he bent. The muscles in his arms bulged
and sent my heart racing. Lowering himself, he stopped a mere centimeter from
pressing our bodies together. His stomach aligned with mine, close enough for
the hair on his body to brush my sensitive flesh. His chest hovered over my
aching breasts, but he didn’t close the distance. Heat and electricity mounted.

He slanted his mouth over mine in a deep, desperate kiss.
His teeth scraped my lip and forced my mouth open. He pressed his tongue
inside, conquered. I could imagine the same rough, wet pressure against my
clit, inside my pussy until I came once more.

Dante skimmed a hand down my arm, and then along the side of
my breast in a barely there caress. He rounded his calloused fingers over my
hip and delved them between my thighs. Sensitive from my orgasm, I gasped into
his mouth. With teasing, deliberate strokes he played in the new arousal
leaking from my slit.

He ripped his mouth away from mine and drew a deep, ragged
breath. Hunger danced in his eyes. Just beyond his need, I caught the
glimmering sheen of his lion, separated from the man by a thin veil. I’d never
experienced the otherness this close before. The press of it was a little
scary. He pressed his thumb against my clit and drew a needy cry from my lips.
Pleasure spiked, and my hips moved against his hand.

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