Page 54 of The Sterling Acquisition
“The question is whether you can maintain your compliance performance until we’re ready to move.”
“I’ll manage.” But Orion’s words caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, the movement drawing Dante’s attention to the pulse point at his neck, visibly quickening beneath flushed skin. “How longuntil—”
He cut himself off as Dante reached over to brush a strand of hair away from his face, the casual touch making both of them freeze. The suppressants that had maintained their professional distance were failing, their effectiveness eroding with each passing minute of proximity.
“How long until what?” Dante asked, his hand still resting against Orion’s cheek.
“Until you stop pretending this is just about the mission.” Orion’s voice was barely above a whisper, but his eyes were blazing with challenge.
“I stopped pretending a while ago,” Dante replied, his thumb tracing the line of Orion’s jaw. “The question is whether you’re ready to admit you’re doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what?”
“Testing me. Pushing buttons to see what happens.” Dante’s voice dropped to something rougher. “Leaning close enough that I can smell how good you’d taste. Looking at me like you’re wondering what I’d do if you pushed just a little harder.”
Orion’s scent spiked, but his expression remained defiant. “Maybe I’m just trying to focus on escape plans.”
“Bullshit.” Dante’s grip tightened on his jaw. “You’re playing with fire because you want to see me burn.”
“And if I am?”
“Then you’re about to find out what happens when you succeed.”
“We should focus on the timeline,” Orion insisted, but he didn’t pull away.
“It’s very hard to focus when you keep looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re wondering what I taste like, too. Like you’re thinking about all those filthy things I whispered in your ear.”I’m going to needto ask that sketchy clinic for my money back. “Like you want me to pin you down and finish what we started yesterday.”
Orion’s breath caught. “You’re the one who can’t concentrate.”
“Because you’re making it impossible.” Dante could feel his own control starting to fray, his own suppressants, implants, and blockers no match for prolonged exposure to Orion’s pheromones. “Do you have any idea what you smell like right now? What you’re doing to me?”
“Tell me.”
The challenge in those two words was unmistakable. Orion wanted to see him lose control, wanted to push until something gave way.
“You smell like sex and defiance and everything I want to corrupt.” Dante’s other hand moved to Orion’s throat, not squeezing but just resting there. “You smell like you’re ready for me to spread you open and make you scream my name.”
Orion’s pulse jumped under his fingers, but his expression remained stubborn. “Big talk for someone who’s shaking.”
Dante looked down and realized Orion was right—his hands were trembling with the effort of restraint, the back of his neck glowed with heat up to his ears, and his pants had been at half-mast for at least ten minutes. “That’s your fault,” he said roughly.
“Bullshit.”
That was the final straw. Before Orion could react, Dante was moving, pinning him back against the bed with enough force to make him gasp. The position pressed them together from chest to hip, and Dante could feel Orion’s response—the sharp intake of breath, the way his body went pliant for just a moment before tensing again.
“Feel that?” Dante ground his hips forward, letting Orion feel how aroused he was. “That’s what you do to me. That’s what happens when you push.”
Orion’s eyes were wide, his breathing uneven. “I’ll bite your fucking nose off if you try something again.”
For a moment, Dante considered all the things he could do. All the ways he could make Orion fall apart, all the sounds he could draw from those lips, all the ways he could claim what they both knew he wanted.
Instead, he decided on something different.
“Kiss me,” he said.
