I look up at him and stop mid-wipe as his hand comes up to my neck, tilting my head back slightly, and he pushes my hair off my shoulders. As it falls down my back, he leans in. My heart thumps out of my chest as my hands rest near his shoulders. I can feel my nipples peaking against his chest as his lips barely skim across the sensitive skin of my neck, and I am sure he can feel them too. He growls then, a low, deep growl that vibrates down my spine. My sex begins to throb in response, and I can’t help the small whimper that leaves my mouth, my body now completely reacting to his desire.

I don’t dare move, but my hands tremble on his shoulders, and I want so badly to dig them into his hair as his head remains buried in my neck. I feel him take deep breaths, like he is drowning in my scent, and I am grateful that I had a shower before bed tonight. Without thinking, I tilt my head farther, giving him more access, and his nose drags from behind my ear to my shoulder, making me shiver.

“Dante,” I whisper, the effect he has on me stifling. I try not to moan his name because just this small act of attention has me undeniably aroused.

“What did I tell you about saying my name like that, Little Red?” he growls into my ear, as he continues brushing his nose and lips against my neck. My mind has turned to mush, but understanding washes over me from one of our previous conversations about kissing me like a man should.

His other hand travels up my torso, feeling every curve and dip before it lands on the other side of my face, and he pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his large hands. His eyes look deep into mine, and I hold my breath as I stare back at him.

“Say my name like that again, Little Red…” he says to me in his baritone voice, and my lips part on a breath.

“Dante,” I breathe out, and barely have time to complete the word before his lips are on mine.

He is dominating, demanding, and I get lost in the passion as his tongue delves into my mouth and begins to tangle with mine. It is like nothing I have ever experienced before. I feel his need, his want for me through every touch. It is like we are drowning and neither one of us wants to come up for air.

His grip on my face remains solid, and he lifts my face farther to meet his. I hang onto his wrists tight, still not sure what part of his body is injured, so I don’t know where to touch. Even though I want to touch every inch.

He pulls away then, both of us panting, my eyes searching his.