Page 27 of Obsession & Oath

When did I start mentally cursing in Italian?

Mierda.

Fuck.

etter.

Dante’s hand is on the back of my neck. When did that happen?

His lips are just…son of a bitch.

Everything. It’s everything. More, actually.

In these silent days of relentlessly trying not to think about this very scenario, I could have never imagined this. Howgoodthis feels. The way desire courses through my body, the hardening of my nipples, the squirming feeling between my legs.

He holds me steady as I experiment with pressure against every corner of his mouth, chasing the feeling of pure, unbridled want. Greedy for it.

Then.

Oh.

His tongue dips out across my bottom lip.

The jolt of desire is so strong my eyes snap open.

Which is very, very bad. Because now I’m very, very aware of my surroundings.

And…

I’mkissingDante Grasso.

My hand reacts before my brain can catch up.

SLAP.

The sound of my palm on flesh reverberates around the dungeon with a ferocity that makes me cringe back away from the bars.

Dante stares at me in a daze. The hand that had held my neck moments ago now cradles the side of his face.

“I…” my voice cracks. Too low. “I’m sorry.”

“Youkissedme.”

“Yes, well. I was momentarily overwhelmed.”

I can feel my breath coming out in embarrassing pants, but there’s nothing I can do to compose myself—beyond putting as much distance as I can between us. But this is futile, really, because there are only thirty steps to the back wall of this cell.

Also, my traitorous body simply doesn’t want to. It wants to reach out and tug at thosereally, very nicearms and pull him close. Pull him, impossibly, through the iron bars and trap him in here with me, just so I can feel his tongue against my mouth again.

Unfortunately, this intention seems to be crystal clear in my expression.

Dante is pressed so far into the bars they will likely leave an imprint if he steps away. And those dark eyes…God. He looks like a manstarved.

“Momentarily?” His voice is charged with something dangerous.

I swallow down my lust. “It was a long moment.”

Because this is insane. And maybe I am going crazy from being locked up down here, finally succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome, exacerbated by my embarrassing lack of experience with anything romantic.

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