Page 110 of Made for Sinners

Her eyes sparkled, lips curving into that wicked smile I’d come to crave. “Isn’t it?”

I reached over, my hand sliding up her thigh, slow and deliberate. The slit in her dress made it easy—too easy—and I didn’t stop until my fingers brushed the edge of her lace panties.

She sucked in a breath, her back pressing slightly into the seat.

“You looked so good tonight,” I murmured, my fingers tracing the edge of the lace. “That dress. Those heels. The way you walked into that room like you owned it.”

Her breath hitched as I slipped my fingers beneath the fabric, finding her already warm, already wet.

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” I said, my voice rough now. “Driving me fucking insane.”

“Dante,” she whispered, her hand gripping the edge of the seat.

“Shh,” I said, my fingers moving in slow, teasing circles. “Let me make it up to you.”

She moaned softly, her legs shifting apart just enough to give me more room. The car was dark, the windows tinted, the road ahead empty. We were ghosts in the city, moving through the night like we didn’t belong to it.

I kept my eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other between her thighs, coaxing soft, breathy sounds from her lips.

“You’re mine,” I said, my voice low, possessive. “Every inch of you.”

Her head fell back against the seat, her eyes fluttering shut as my fingers slid deeper, curling just right.

She whimpered, her hips lifting slightly, chasing the pressure.

“I think about it all the time,” I growled. “About you. About this. About how good you taste when you come on my tongue.”

“Dante—” Her voice broke, breathless and desperate.

I leaned closer, my mouth brushing her ear. “You want to come for me, baby?”

She nodded, her breath catching.

“Say it.”

“I want to come,” she whispered. “Please.”

I groaned, my fingers moving faster, harder, until she was gasping, her body trembling beneath my touch. She bit her lip, trying to stay quiet, but I heard it—the soft, broken moan that slipped past her lips as she came, her thighs clenching around my hand.

I didn’t stop until she was shaking, until she was panting, until her hand gripped my wrist and pulled me gently away.

I brought my fingers to my lips, tasting her, savoring her.

She watched me, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

“You’re insane,” she whispered.

I smirked. “Only for you.”

She laughed, low and breathless, and leaned over to press a kiss to my jaw.

I kept driving, my hand returning to the wheel, but the air between us had shifted. It wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just hunger.

It was something deeper.

Something dangerous.

Something that felt a hell of a lot like love.

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