Page 36 of Obsession & Oath

“Dickhead.”

With a dull click, the door to my cell swings open for the first time since I arrived with a low groan.

And for the first time since I arrived, I see Dante, unobscured by iron bars.

He shouldn’t look any different, yet I feel oddly emotional at the sight of him standing there. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

He’s all muscle and casual stance, tattoos that peek out from his shirt and up his neck. His dark eyes, closely shaved beard along that strong jaw, and that damn dimple are so familiar to me now I could draw them from memory.

He meets me where I’m at, standing in the middle of the cell. His steps are hesitant initially, then more hurried as he gets closer. I know why. I can feel the tug toward him, too.

I half expect him to stop and tease fun at me for just staring at him. There’s already an Italian insult on the end of my tongue.

But then his arms wrap around me.

And oh.

Fuck.

I melt into his embrace, unable to stop myself, especially when the sting of emotion threatens to well up in my eyes.

When was the last time someone touched me like this? So gently and yet so entirely consumingly that I never wanted to break away again. Definitely not the boys I’d rejected along the way.

Red.Mia Natali had held me like this once. Back when I thought she was my friend.

“Hi,” Dante whispers as he slowly pulls away. I momentarily mourn the loss of his touch, but he leans his forehead against mine, and that’s somehow better.

“Hi,” I reply.

If he feels my body shaking beneath his, he doesn’t comment on it. I blame my inexperience for why this suddenly feels so intense. It’s just a hug. He’s just breathing me in. I’m just surrendering myself to the embrace like the touch-starved virgin I am.

Because this is how I always imagined lovers might hold each other in a world where I got to make that kind of decision for myself.

And isn’t that a very dangerous thought?

“You can’t kiss me,” I breathe, scrambling to throw down a safety net below my wayward thoughts.

Dante frowns slightly. “Anywhere?”

I feel the flush in my cheeks. “Where else is there?”

Dante pulls away with a smirk before ducking his head by my shoulder. I’m about to protest, but then…

“Oh,” I gasp as his lips brush just behind my ear.

“Here,” he breathes. Then his lips begin to trail down my neck, mouthing at the skin in reverence as my toes begin to curl. “Here.”

He reaches the neckline of my shirt and peppers kisses across my exposed collarbone. Every single movement sets something within me alight. My hands find his hair, tangling my fingers through his curls in encouragement.

When he reaches my jaw, it’s the gentle press of teeth against my skin that jolts me back into reality, granting me just enough wherewithal to place a hand over his mouth before he can reach my lips.

His dark eyes bore into mine, amusement crinkling in the corners.

“Not on the lips,” I tell him, my voice only wavering slightly.

“You sure about that, princess?”

No.

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