Page 113 of Made for Sinners

He looked like sin personified.

And I wanted him.

The elevator dinged softly as we reached the top floor, and the doors slid open to reveal the penthouse—quiet, dimly lit, and far too large for just the two of us. I stepped out first, my heels echoing softly against the polished floors, but Dante was right behind me, his presence pressing into my back like a second skin.

I didn’t make it more than a few steps before his hand wrapped around my wrist.

“Wait,” he said, his voice low and rough.

I turned, and before I could speak, he pulled me to him, his mouth crashing against mine.

The kiss was hard, desperate, all teeth and tongue and heat. His hands slid into my hair, tangling there, holding me in place as he kissed me like he was trying to erase every mistake he’d ever made.

I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers tugging at his jacket, pulling him closer, needing more.

He broke the kiss first, his forehead resting against mine, both of us panting.

“I need you,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Now.”

“Then take me,” I whispered.

That was all it took.

The moment his hands wrapped around me, I was weightless, a fucking feather in his grip. He lifted me like I was nothing, and my gasp was swallowed by the heat of his breath against my neck. My arms instinctively coiled around his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscle of his back as he carried me through the penthouse. His eyes, dark and hungry,never left my face, and I could feel the raw need radiating off him like a furnace.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t speak, didn’t even blink until we reached the bedroom. He kicked the door open with a force that made me moan, the sound echoing off the walls. The room smelled like him, like sex and power and something primal that made my pussy clench in anticipation. He didn’t just lay me on the bed—he dropped me, letting me bounce once on the mattress before he was on me, his hands everywhere, his lips claiming mine in a kiss so filthy it made my toes curl.

And then he ripped my dress.

The sound of fabric tearing was like a gunshot, and I gasped, half-faking outrage, half-melting into the way his eyes burned as he looked at me. “You’re such an asshole,” I breathed, my voice trembling as he tore the rest of it off, leaving me bare except for the lace panties that clung to my soaked pussy.

“I’ll buy you a hundred more,” he growled, his voice low and rough, each word dripping with promise. “In every fucking color. Just so I can rip them off you again and again.”

His hands were on me before I could respond—rough, demanding, tracing every curve and dip of my body like he was committing it to memory. He kissed me again, and I caught the faint taste of myself on his lips, warm and heady, a reminder of how he’d devoured me in the car like a man starved. The memory alone sent a shiver through me, my thighs clenching as heat bloomed low in my belly. I moaned into his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer, deeper, needing more.

I wanted to return the favor, wanted to show him how much he’d wrecked me. My hands slid down his chest, the heat of his skin searing against my palms, fingers fumbling with his belt. My heart pounded in my ears as I worked the buckle loose, my determination fueled by the hunger in his eyes. When Ifinally freed his cock, it sprang out, thick and throbbing, the tip glistening with precum. My breath hitched at the sight of him, my mouth watering as I wrapped my fingers around his length, feeling the heat and weight of him in my hand.

I didn’t hesitate. I sank down to my knees, my lips parting as I took him into my mouth with a moan that vibrated against his length. The salty taste of him hit my tongue, and I swirled around the head, savoring every inch as I slid him deeper. He let out a guttural groan, his hips jerking forward as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked him like my life depended on it.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice thick with need. His hands buried themselves in my hair, tightening as I took him all the way down my throat, the head of his cock brushing the back of it. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t care. I wanted this. I wanted him to come undone for me, to lose control the way he made me lose it.

“You’re so fucking good at that, baby,” he rasped, his hips rocking forward, pushing just a little deeper. Every thrust sent a shiver through me, my nails digging into his thighs as I worked him with my mouth, my tongue swirling and teasing, my lips taut around him. “But I need more.”

Before I could protest, he tugged me off him with a sharp pull, a string of saliva connecting my lips to the tip of his cock. I barely had time to catch my breath before he grabbed me, flipping me onto my stomach with a force that made me whimper. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me up onto my knees, the air cool against my exposed skin as he positioned me exactly how he wanted.

And then he was inside me.

In one brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, stretching and filling me so completely that I screamed, the sound muffled by the sheets beneath me. My fingers clawed at the fabric, the sensation almost too much as he pulled back and slammed intome again, harder this time, setting a punishing rhythm that left me breathless.

“You have no idea,” he growled, his voice ragged with need, each word punctuated by the force of his thrusts. “No fucking idea how much I wanted you at that gala. Wanted to bend you over the fucking table and take you right there, in front of everyone.”

His words were a wrecking ball to my sanity, shattering every last shred of restraint I had left. A shiver ran down my spine, and I moaned into the sheets, his filthy confession igniting me from the inside out. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, his cock hitting every perfect spot inside me, the sheer force of his thrusts making my body tremble.

“Dante,” I gasped, my voice breaking as the pressure inside me built to an unbearable peak. “Oh God—don’t stop.”

“That’s it,” he growled, his hand sliding around my body to find my clit. His fingers rubbed tight, deliberate circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and I cried out, the sensation tipping me closer and closer to the edge. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

I couldn’t hold back. The tension snapped, and my orgasm exploded through me, a white-hot wave of pleasure that ripped a scream from my throat. My body clenched around him, my walls pulsing as he fucked me through it, his cock driving deep, dragging out every last aftershock until I was shaking beneath him.

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