Desire's Edge (27 page)
Dante held both her hands in his. “I want you to do something for me, Kara. For me. The others will see you, will be watching. But this is for
me
. Understood?”
me
. Understood?”
“Always for you, Dante. It’s always for you.”
Why did saying it to him make it feel more true?
“Good girl. Stand right where you are.”
He reached and pulled on the zipper holding the front of her black leather corset-style dress, sliding it upward so that it parted to reveal the tops of her thighs. Desire shimmered over her body, making her go a little dizzy.
She loved that she wasn’t quite sure what he would have her do. What he would do to her. The mystery in it. The sense that he was the one in control.
His hand slid under the edge of the dress, pushing the zipper up higher, revealing more of her body until it was open to her waist. Her thighs, her stomach, felt wonderfully naked. And he began to stroke her with his hand, brushing it over her skin.
“Spread a little for me, beautiful girl,” he told her.
She did as he asked. His palm smoothed over the insides of her thighs, making her sex go damp. He traced the edge of her black lace thong with his fingertips and she shivered. When he slipped his hand underneath the lace, finding her wet cleft, she moaned softly.
“Ah, you like that. Tell me, Kara.”
“Yes. I like it. I love it when you touch me.”
He smiled, his gaze focused on the apex of her thighs. He leaned in, pressed his lips to the quickly dampening lace, and she groaned.
“You really do like it, don’t you? But do you know what I’d like? I’d like to see you do this yourself. Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”
“Here?”
A low chuckle from him. “Yes, here. For me, Kara. For
me
.”
me
.”
He looked up at her, his dark gaze boring into her. Making her body heat with the need to please him.
“God . . .” It came out on a small, breathless sigh.
He chuckled again. “I know you’re nervous. But you’ll do it, won’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, the word sticking in her throat, which was tight with nerves and a pure, pulsing desire.
“Let’s just get rid of this.” He pulled the lace thong down in one swift motion, leaving her naked to his sharp gaze, her dress open from the waist down. “Sit, Kara,” he told her, pushing her down gently but firmly into the chair behind her.
He was watching her closely as she leaned back in the chair. He nodded his chin, and she knew exactly what he wanted. She parted her thighs.
He smiled. “Perfect, my girl. Beautiful. I can see how wet you are.” He reached out, stroked her cleft with his fingertips, brought them to his lips, his tongue flicking out to lick them. “You taste so damn good. I love the taste of you. But I want to watch you now. Come on, Kara. Show me how you like it. Show me your pleasure.”
He sat back, watching her, still. It was as if his gaze compelled her, making her move her hands down to caress the insides of her thighs, opening them wider. She watched his face, watched the pleasure soften his features as she touched her hard clitoris with one fingertip.
“Ah, that’s it,” he said quietly.
She moved her finger lower, over the folds of her pussy lips, and he groaned softly. The sound went through her like a shot of pure heat.
More
.
.
She used both hands to part those plump folds, and, holding herself open to him with one hand, she pressed two fingers inside her.
Pleasure was instant, hot and sharp. Lovely. Even lovelier was Dante’s gaze on her, the concentration there. She glanced down and saw the bulge of his erection straining against the black leather pants he wore.
Oh yes . . .
She paused there, holding perfectly still, letting her body absorb the shock of need. Then she slipped her fingers out and began to stroke, running them up and down her slit, sliding in her juices. She was teasing herself by not touching her clit, not dipping inside. Teasing him. Her hips began to pump of their own accord as she arched against her hand.
“Look at them, Kara,” he said, his voice a low, guttural tone. “The people watching you. They’re as turned on by what you’re doing as I am. I can feel it.”
She glanced up, and found several men and women watching her from different points around the room. A dozen pairs of glittering eyes. She could sense their pleasure, nearly as heavy in her body as her own.
“For
me
, Kara.”
me
, Kara.”
Dante’s hand shot out and he gripped her wrist, made her stroke herself faster, controlling the motion of her hand.
“Ah, God, Dante . . .”
“Are you going to come?”
“Yes.”
“Not yet,” he ordered, pulling his hand away and cupping her face. “Don’t stop, Kara. But look at me. Only at me, now.”
“Yes,” she whispered, the need to please him more powerful than the sensation swarming her system as she continued to stroke her aching flesh.
His gaze was burning hot on hers. “It’s just us, Kara. Just you and me. Nothing else matters.”
“Yes, Dante.”
He let her cheek go and reached between her thighs once more, thrust his fingers inside her.
“Oh!”
He pulled them out, thrust again.
“This is what I want you to do, my girl.”
He sat back, moving his hand away.
She pushed two fingers inside herself once more, bit her lip as sensation stabbed deep.
“Deeper,” he ordered.
She pressed harder, slid her fingers out, drove them in again. Her breath was a halting pant. Pleasure was liquid running hot in her veins. Dante’s gaze was even hotter, making her soft and weak all over.
“Come on, Kara. Make yourself come for me, baby. Do it.”
She thrust her fingers deep into her aching sex, and with the other hand, she pressed her clit, circled. Her climax was fast and hard, making her cry out, her hips pump wildly.
“Ah, so beautiful, baby,” Dante murmured as she shivered with wave after wave.
She was barely done when he pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He pressed his own fingers into her still-clenching sex, curving them to hit her G-spot. And another climax came thundering down, a powerful wave of pure, stark pleasure.
“Ah God!”
Dante held her tight in his arms as she shook with the force of it.
“Baby . . . that’s it . . . so good,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Dante . . .”
“What is it, beautiful girl?”
“Just you and me here . . .” She gasped.
“Yes. Just you and me.”
She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for. But he was giving it to her. Saying exactly what she needed to hear.
His arms tightened around her.
“That was perfect, Kara. Perfect,” he said, his voice full of smoke and need. “But I need more from you now.”
“Yes. Anything.”
He shifted her in his lap until she was straddling him on the wide ottoman, one thigh draped over either side of his long, leather-clad legs, her arms clasped around his neck.
“Lean into me. Good girl. I’m going to spank you now.”
All she could do was groan quietly as he pulled her dress up. One sharp smack on her bare flesh and she was writhing. His erection pressed against her naked mound and she ground into him.
He smacked her again, then again, a sharp volley of slaps on her burning flesh. It was so good, the pleasure and the pain building so quickly she was breathless again in moments.
She was writhing, wanton, needing to come again. She needed the thick length of his cock inside her. Needed his hands on her. His mouth. Everything at once.
She was wild with need, with pleasure denied, with the lovely, torturing slaps on her ass.
“Come again, baby. Come for me. You can do it.”
He kept spanking her with one hand. With the other he reached between them and into her dress, pinching her nipple hard.
“Oh!”
She ground her mound into the hard bulge in his lap, riding that rock-hard ridge, needing more. And as he twisted her nipple in his fingers, the pain burned into her, branding her. And she came once more in a hard frenzy.
“Dante!”
Again, before it was over, he shifted her, lifting her to her feet this time, then lifting her in his arms.
She was trembling. Weak in his arms.
“Have to fuck you now, my girl. Have to be inside you.”
In moments they were in one of the curtained alcoves that were in every corner of the club, and he was setting her down on a high, padded table. He reached blindly for a condom from a bowl on a high shelf, unzipped his leather pants. His cock was a hard, golden shaft of beautiful flesh, darker at the head. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside her.
He pulled her roughly to the edge of the table, parted her thighs. And in one hard stroke, he was buried deep in her soaking wet sex.
“Jesus, Kara. Baby . . .”
He held her arms over her head with one hand clasped around both her wrists. He was watching her, his chest heaving with each panting breath. Then he started to move, his hips driving hard into hers. So hard it hurt, but she needed it, needed him.
“Dante . . . please.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. She didn’t understand. All she knew was the exquisite pleasure of his body inside hers. The aching need for more, somehow.
“Dante,” she said again on a sob.
He pulled her body upright, held her tight in his arms as he pounded into her. And as he tensed, finally, shouting her name, as her body shook with yet another sharp, ravaging climax, she cried into his shoulder, cried out.
“Dante, God! Please, please . . . Dante . . .”
She was clinging to him. And he was clinging just as tightly. Her world spun, out of control. And all she knew was his body, and hers. Together. Just the two of them. The rest of the world disappeared.
She didn’t remember very clearly the ride back to his place—it was a blur of streetlights and a light rain coming down, making the colors run together on the windshield. The scent of the leather seats in Dante’s car. The lovely, dark scent of
him
, mixed with the sharp smell of spent pleasure. But as Dante got her out of the car, then half carried her to the elevator, she had a wild surge of growing panic.
him
, mixed with the sharp smell of spent pleasure. But as Dante got her out of the car, then half carried her to the elevator, she had a wild surge of growing panic.
It didn’t make any sense to her that it was happening now. But she was full of need. Full of a hard, trembling fear.
“Dante . . . please don’t go.”
“What? I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m just taking you inside. Here, one second while I get the front door open.”
She sagged against him as he closed the door of his apartment behind them. Just went weak all over. With relief, maybe.
He held on to her, his arms solid around her.
“It’s okay,” he told her, his tone soothing, calm. “You’re just having another chemical rush from the play tonight. Endorphins. Maybe a little overload. You’ll be fine. I’m going to undress you, and get us both into bed. All right?”
She nodded mutely. She couldn’t think straight. All she could think about, all she knew at that moment, was that she loved him. That after their evening at the club she felt closer to him than ever. And she didn’t know how much longer she could hold it in.
She felt dizzy with it. With love. Her need for him—a stark, absolute need she had never felt before in her life.
In moments, it seemed, she was undressed and in his bed, the sheets cool and soft against her naked skin.
“Dante?”
“Shh, baby, I’m right here.”
And he was, sliding in next to her, slipping his arm under her neck. She rolled onto her side, pressing into his big body. It wasn’t about sex. She just needed to
feel
him.
feel
him.
He stroked her hair from her face, kissed her cheek, her lips, briefly. And she melted into it. The lovely sensation of Dante cherishing her.
It was the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt. She wanted to think about it, what it might mean. To revel in it. But her eyes were so impossibly heavy.
“Dante,” she whispered, “I have to tell you something.”
Don’t do it
.
.
“What is it?”
Have to say it
. . .
. . .
“It’s important . . .”
He was quiet. Waiting for her to speak, she realized. But she couldn’t hold her eyes open. Couldn’t get her mouth to work. It was as though her body weighed a thousand pounds.
“Mmm . . .”
“Kara?”
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