Page 119 of Salvation

Axel was the first to fall asleep, followed by Kitty. Bee did her best to fight the wave of sleep, but one final, big yawn had her curling up and closing her eyes. Dante carried his mother into her room, and we each took a child and lifted them upstairs to their beds.

The tension between me and Dante was palpable. After all the drama of the past few days, the time spent together, the closeness growing between us… The air was thick with longing, neither one of us able to resist, neither one of us wanting to be the first one to break.

This was so strange to me. I was used to being able to grab Dante and have him whenever I wanted him. Our sex life had been fiery and wild. It grounded me, calmed me, when the rest of my life seemed so chaotic.

And I’d give just about anything for him to dull all my other senses and fill me with nothing but pleasure.

As we entered our bedroom, the easy banter between us from earlier slipped away. The air was so thick I could almost touch it.

My body ached for him. I wanted him, even if all logic and rational thought screamed at me that it was a bad idea.

I fuckingneededhim.

As he closed the bedroom door behind him with a soft click, I looked at him, his face tight, his body tense.

Come on, Rachel! Take what you want. Stop being so fucking afraid.

Fuck it.

I made my mind up in a flash, striding towards Dante with purpose. I grabbed hold of his cut and pulled him towards me, raising up on my tip-toes to capture his lips with my own.

Dante’s response was instant. He grabbed my ass and hauled me into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and held me close to him, deepening the kiss.

“Thank fuck you made the first move,” he murmured against my lips. “I was this fucking close to—”

“Me too,” I whispered back, knowing exactly what he meant.

From then on, our actions were frenzied. We tore at each other’s clothes, our kisses brutal and painful. He bit my lips, my neck, his tongue following, licking and teasing.

Our breaths came in fitful, moaning pants. My hands were everywhere. His hair, tugging tightly. Under his shirt, pulling it over his head, greedily tracing every bit of bare skin that was revealed.

He walked us over to the bed, dropping down with me, cradling my body as his weight covered mine.

His hands pushed down my trousers, my feet hooked in his waistband to help shove his down, too. His tongue danced with my own, his name on my lips.

Jesus Christ, I’d missed this.

He pulled back from me, grinning wickedly.

Ridding himself of the last of his clothes, he stood naked before me, his cock hard and leaking. I swallowed deeply andshuffled up to the top of the bed, pushing down my underwear as I did so I was just as naked as he was.

His eyes followed me, travelling from my bare tits, down my naked stomach, all the way to my glistening pussy that was as soaked for him as it always was.

I planted my feet on the bed and spread my knees, opening myself for him, keeping my eyes locked on his.

He groaned deeply, his hand moving to his cock as he began to pump up and down, watching my hand move to between my legs, spreading my pussy open.

“You’re not going to leave me to play on my own this time, are you?” I asked him, slipping my fingers between my pussy lips and circling my clit.

He grinned and climbed on the bed, shuffling towards me until he was in front of me. He sat opposite me, pulling me forward, his legs on either side of my body. He pulled my thighs over his so that his cock was pushed against my pussy.

“Keep going,” he whispered, rubbing the head of his cock over my wetness.

My fingers continued circling my clit as I watched him stroke his cock with slow movements, the head of it dangerously close to where I wanted him the most.

I could feel the heat of him pulsing against me, the head of his cock slipping over my folds in a slow, deliberate drag. My whole body jolted with the contact—so fucking close, but not inside. It was maddening.

My fingers didn’t stop moving, circling my clit with practiced pressure, my eyes locked on his. I loved the way he watched me—like he was starving, like every twitch of my body fed some desperate need in him.

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