Page 57 of Wicked

I pull off the wet top but freeze. Dante lifts a brow, and I force myself to remove my bra.

I feel shy as Dante looks at me, and I try to cover my breasts. Slowly, he holds my face in his hands, and they are warm like his eyes.

“Lower your arms, Raven. And do not cover your breasts. You’re a perfect young woman, do you understand me?”

It takes me several seconds, but I decide to nod.

“And if you can’t take off your clothes, you won’t be able to handle what’s coming next.”

“What… what’s coming next?” I ask, getting nervous.

Dante kisses me, and he slides his thick tongue inside my mouth. I cannot believe how amazing it feels, and I weave mine around his.

He is an incredible kisser, and it suddenly feels like he’s fucking my mouth. As I start to lose my breath, he pulls back, startling me.

I feel on edge. I’m needy, desperate and this is dangerous. Here and now, I’d do anything he wants. Anything at all.

“If you really want to know what will happen, Raven, I’ll tell you. First, you will come, and hard. Violently hard. Then after you, I will come.” I stare up at him, wide-eyed, nervous, wet, and turned on. How can he be so confident? It’s as if he has done this a hundred times.

And he is this…A master.

24

RAVEN

I shiver as thunder booms, and Dante passes me a hot drink from the side table. “Whiskey, lemon, and honey. Drink.” I nod and sip as he says, “Nice riding!”

The drink instantly heats me, and it also calms me. “I can only ride one way,” I say, my energy returning.

“Me too,” Dante says huskily. His eyes are dark, and it’s almost scary.

He unclips the wardrobe bag from the back of Olive before getting the wings and my day pack. As I pull off my wet trainers, I stand dripping and confused.

Dante walks ahead, and he turns back to me in my puddle. “Come on. You do want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

I cannot believe the question, and again, it’s as if the universe is messing with me.

This will either go horribly wrong, or it will be the best sex of all time.

As we climb the wide stairs, I look left and right. It’s an incredible building, and we head higher into the grand building all alone.

As thunder rumbles, Dante looks back to me. “Once you’re dry, I will take the horse to the stables. First, we need to get your pants off.”

“What?”

“You need to dry.”

“Oh!” I say, losing it for a second.

We finish climbing the two sets of wide stairs, and we enter a large warm chamber where Dante has set up camp. The large stone chamber has an ancient four-poster bed in a corner, and an old bath has been placed near a huge roaring fire.

The large room has views of the coast, and its ceiling is high. Persian rugs cover the stone floor, and tapestries and oil paintings cover the walls.

A long oak table with eight chairs is in the middle of the chamber, and swords and shields line the walls.

The room is near the edge of the cliff, and large windows and a glass door open onto a turret-style balcony that overlooks the coast and sea.

As we walk to the roaring fire that pumps heat and light, Dante commands me to stay. “Here,” he says, his tone strict.

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