Page 17 of Wicked

“Oh God, that’s nice, Dante. Don’t ever stop.”

Do not fucking say that.

I continue washing her face with the delicate cloth around her chin, jaw, and neck. I can’t help myself. It’s divine…

Like her.

7

RAVEN

My eyes flutter open, and I look up. The dark stranger stares down, and our faces and lips are dangerously close. We stare at each other, and I gulp. Dante does not stop washing my face, and he caresses my neck. I smile, and I hear a growl.

Dante looks like he wants to do bad things to me, or he is angry. I watch his lips as my breasts heave.

As he washes me, his eyes travel the length of my body and the dirty parts of me.

Inside, I beg him and the universe to forget the little patches of mud. Inside, I have real needs. I also feel dirty. I ache for his touch, and I think of him sliding three fingers inside me and hooking them up. Of him then grinding his thumb against my clit.

I gulp to get rid of my saliva build up, and I bite my lip. I wonder how big his cock is, and as I find his eyes, our eyes lock and hold.

They do not move for seconds, and it’s electric, like his touch. As Dante washes the water higher around my face, he suddenly nudges a bump, as if distracted.

“Ouch!” I jump.

Water splashes and the moment is gone.

“Sorry, distracted.”

“What were you thinking about?” I ask, calming and laying back down. Dante appears disturbed and even more grumpy.

He does not answer, and it’s as if he is lecturing himself. But about what?

I lay down in the bath, and I lay extra low this time. The energy calms, and as I settle back in, our eyes meet again. As his hands rub around my neck and throat, I feel my nipples pebble.

It’s so hot, and I’m getting wet.

Our eyes hold for a long time, and his darkening eyes are alluring. I am getting way too turned on, and I am now losing control.

Just when I sense Dante will make his move and slide a hand into my bra or crouch next to the bath and slide a finger inside me, he walks quickly away to the window.

As he looks out, I watch him in the moonlight. He is in perfect shape, with a large chest and slim waist. Pulling off his boots, he stretches his neck near the window.

Why not? Say it. Say something. Maybe it’s destiny.

“Dante, I’m from America.” He stares back but says nothing. “I’m sick of dating, and I… I may even die a virgin!” The word virgin makes him lift his chin, and he looks back at me, his eyes dark. “How about you?”

Dante says nothing and I don’t like it. “Dante? Are you…”

“No,” Dante says husky.

“So, what’s it like?” I ask, sitting up. “Is it worth the hype? The tales, the books, and songs?” Again, he says nothing, as if not wanting to discuss sex at all. “Dante?”

“It’s better,” he says as if just to shut me up.

“Hmmm!” I sigh, sitting half-naked in the bath, intrigued. “So is sex better when you’re in love with the person?”

I watch the hot stranger and his eyes flinch. Woah! “Wow,” I say. “You’re unsure! You’re also a type of virgin.”

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