Page 43 of The Woman in the Hollow
His hand squeezed.
His finger circled.
Then his thumb and forefinger rolled.
My hips rocked restlessly, the ache I’d been denying since the night in the office coming back and compounding.
Suddenly, Dante’s hands were moving, grabbing my hips, turning me, and pulling my back flush against his chest.
There was no hesitation before his hand slid down the front of my pants, into my panties, and teased up the center of me.
“So wet already,” he murmured against my ear, his tongue tracing the shell, then his teeth nipping the lobe.
There was no denying it.
Besides, I could feel his desire stabbing me through his slacks.
I may or may not have rocked my ass back against him.
I felt rather than heard the groan move through him.
His fingers slid down, teasing against the entrance to my body until I was rocking restlessly. Only then did his fingers slip inside me.
My walls tightened around him, making him groan. And thanks to the lapse in the soundtrack, this time I got to hear it.
The sound made my belly wobble as my hips did a little circle, desperate for friction, for an end to the clawing need deep inside me.
His fingers started to thrust then, and all thoughts left my mind. All that was left was touch, sensation, need.
Dante’s free hand slid up to gently curl around my throat as his teeth nipped my earlobe.
I could feel the movement of his lips against my ear but couldn’t make out the words he was saying as he drove me steadily up.
My hips rocked with his touch as my whimpers grew to moans that were quickly swallowed up by the sounds of the haunted house.
As my body arched and my walls tensed, Dante’s hand tightened around my throat.
There was a second of panic as my face felt a little fuzzy and warm, but then the orgasm crashed through me—intensified by the lack of oxygen to my brain.
My body shuddered, rocked, and shook.
I came back down slowly as Dante’s hand slid from my neck.
My heartbeat hammered against my ribs, my skin overheated, and my legs tingled.
Just as my mind started to remember why hooking up with Dante was a terrible idea, light filled the space as someone opened the door.
I sprang away from Dante, rushing forward toward my cleaning supplies on wobbly legs.
When I turned back after grabbing the cart, I found Dante’s gaze on me. As soon as he saw he had my attention, his fingers slowly slipped into his mouth, tasting me.
I swear I nearly came again right then and there.
The only thing saving me from completely humiliating myself was the fact that two of the workers came in, all loud voices and bright eyes.
I rushed past Dante, careful not to touch him again.
Because, really, what was wrong with me?
