Page 81 of The Woman in the Hollow
Of course I would climb him like a tree in my sleep, chasing his warmth like some kind of damn reptile.
Okay.
Alright.
I just had to slowly inch my way off of him, crawl back to my side of the bed, and act like nothing happened.
Beneath me, Dante’s breath was slow and steady. He clearly hadn’t noticed me climbing on top of him.
I sucked in a slow, deep breath then started to ease my weight up.
A strong arm wrapped tightly around me.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Hazel
My heart stammered.
My body froze.
My belly melted.
“Sorry. I think I, uh, was drawn to your warmth,” I said, forcing myself to lift up some more, only to have Dante’s arm tighten, pulling me back down.
“My warmth, huh?”
His voice was a rough, sleep-sexy sound that sent a shiver sliding down my spine.
“It’s cool in here,” I insisted, even as my body started to burn. “And you’re a furnace.”
Dante’s fingers drifted down over my ribs, my waist, and hip. My damn body stretched like a cat at the sensation, desperate for more of it.
His hand slid down over my thigh before tracking back up, this time moving higher, his fingertips brushing the side of my breast, then moving up toward my neck.
Then, in one smooth motion, he rolled me onto my back, his body half coming over mine, and his lips sealed to mine,silencing my surprised gasp as the heat of his kiss seared into me.
My whole body went liquid as his lips slanted over mine again and again, slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world, like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing.
I sank into the sensation, into him, into the warmth flooding through me.
His hand went to my jaw, gently framing my face as the kiss turned deeper, more passionate, borderline needy.
Dante’s teeth grazed, then nipped, pulling until my lips fell open on a soft moan.
Then his tongue teased mine, lighting more fires, letting them catch and spread.
Reaching for him, I pulled him more fully on top of me, my legs spreading around his hips, my arms slipping around his back.
My hands were greedy then, sliding over his wide shoulders, moving over the corded muscles of his arms, and down the slope of his back.
Dante’s tongue retreated, my own chased, desperate for more, for everything he had to offer. His lips took my tongue, sucking in a strobe-like pattern that I swore I felt between my thighs.
He broke the kiss first, pressing up to look down at me as he shifted his hips, then ground his hard length against me.
My moan was long and ragged, my back arching, my head falling back.
