Page 43 of Obsession & Oath

I can’t bear the thought that Hernando Lacruz will get to have this from me. That my first true kiss might not be gentle or kind or focused on my pleasure.

And I have, technically,kissedDante before. I know how his lips feel. I know that even though it might not mean anything beyond the satisfaction of our closeness, it will be gentle and kind.

It will come with the promise of more walks through these sunny grounds and a south-facing bedroom window.

For the first time in my life, I think I might deserve at least that. For the sacrifice I’ll have to make…now that I understand the true extent of that sacrifice.

“I need it to be you,” I whisper with a vulnerability that’s ripped straight out of my chest. “I need it to be gentle and not through the bars of a cage. I need?—”

His lips have already found mine. And I melt.

Because those are his hands unwinding from my waist to cradle my face. That’s his thumb brushing across my cheek, that’s his racing heart pressed against my chest.

It’s wonderful and sundrenched and warm. I sigh into it, letting my mouth open, letting myself swallow his affection. Feel every jolt of electricity as his tongue licks across my bottom lip.

My hands wind themselves around his neck, pulling him closer, raising myself onto my toes.

So quickly does this gentle thing become insatiable. The feeling of his tongue brushing against mine sends us both into a sort of frenzy. Fingers dig into flesh as we both scramble to get closer, to feelmore.

His hand hooks under my thigh and brings my leg to his waist. Which is good. Very very good. Closer. I groan out my pleasure.

I’m rewarded by being lifted from my toes. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as a muffled shriek escapes me, captured by his mouth as his tongue wrestles for control over mine.

The movement pushes me against him, and with a thrumming sense of achievement, I can feel the hardening of his cock pressing into my stomach.

Frenzied, I rock into it, enjoying the way something akin to a growl erupts from his throat.

He moves us to the bench, taking a seat as I fall to straddle him. The hardness of his crotch now presses perfectly into my own throbbing core.

My strangled cry is quickly muffled by a hand across my mouth.

We both freeze, suddenly feeling caught as we suddenly hear footsteps getting closer. Our eyes are both wide with panic for a moment until they fade again across the gravel path nearby.

Slowly, Dante lowers his hand.

Relief hits first. Then, the insanity of the situation.

Then, a wild burst of laughter erupts from my chest, and I have to muffle it again with my own hands.

Only Dante is laughing with me, a warm, comforting sound that I can feel rumble through his entire body. It takes a long moment for us to both settle down again.

But when we do, he pulls my hands down and offers me a chaste kiss. I chase his lips for a second. Then we meet halfway for a third.

It’s a lovely, fluttering thing. Experimental on my part, indulgent on his. Less feverish and intense than before, but I would be content with doing it for hours without it going any further than just this.

Just being. Just close. Just kissing.

My heart aches for this to be what it’s like once I’m married. The thought is enough for me to pull back with a sigh.

“I don’t think I can kiss him like this.”

The disgust on his face gives Dante away. For all his teasing about being his prisoner, there are times like this when the looks he gives me feel downrightpossessive.

“You won’t kiss him.”

“Dante.”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

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