Page 77 of Shadows of Steel
“You did that on purpose!” I accuse, sitting up abruptly, a shiver running through me as the cold water clings to my skin.
Dante’s smirk is slow and wicked in its intent. “You looked like you were getting far too comfortable, leonessa.” His voice is smooth, laced with something dark, almost cruel, like he enjoys unsettling me. “Consider it a favour.” Mattia cackles as he swims around the yacht, and I shake my head, muttering under my breath as I stretch back out.
Minutes pass as I bask in the sun, listening to the laughter and the rhythmic splashing of water. I’ve never seen this side of Dante, unguarded, entirely present. He’s always ruthless, composed, bound by the weight of his world. But here, in the water with his son, he’s different.
Warmer. Lighter.
And it does something to me.
I exhale slowly, reaching for my bag as the heat settles deeper into my skin. Without looking up, I call out, “Come here, Mattia. You need another layer.”
He groans loudly but swims over, climbing onto the deck again. He flops onto the sunbed like it’s an immense inconvenience, but he lets me rub more lotion over his arms and back.
Once I’m done, I glance up, and find Dante watching us again.
He’s out of the water now, standing at the edge of the deck, seawater still clinging to his skin, dripping down the rigid planes of his stomach. He’s wearing his swim shorts, his body goldenand glistening under the sun, droplets catching against the hard lines of muscle.
Heat pools low in my stomach. I swallow, trying to tamp down the rush of something dangerous.
“You should put some on too.” I say, keeping my tone casual as I extend the bottle toward him.
Dante doesn’t take it. Instead, he holds my gaze, eyes narrowing slightly. “Do it for me.”
I hesitate for a second before getting up and stepping toward him. I hear another splash as Mattia dives back into the water, his laughter ringing through the open air.
Dante doesn’t move as I press my palms to his skin. My hands glide over his shoulders, down his arms, smoothing sunscreen over the firm ridges of muscle. He’s solid beneath my touch, radiating warmth, his skin tinged with salt.
I swallow hard.
We’re too close.
His scent mixed with the smell of sea and sun wraps around me, making my pulse unsteady. This feels intimate.
My voice barely comes out when I whisper, “Turn around.”
Dante obeys, shifting so I can smooth lotion across his back, my hands moving over his broad shoulders, down his spine.
“All done.” I murmur, stepping back.
Dante turns to face me, his expression hard to decipher. He extends a hand wordlessly.
I place the bottle into his palm before turning away, reclining onto my stomach to bask in the sun once more.
A moment later, I sense him.
Dante sits beside me, close enough that our skin touches. His palm settles against my back, fingers gliding along my spine as he spreads the lotion over my bare skin, touch maddeningly smooth.
All of a sudden a sharp smack lands on my ass.
I gasp, spinning around. “Dante!”
He doesn’t look apologetic. If anything, he looks pleased. “Had to make sure it was all rubbed in.” He says, smirking.
I glare at him, but my skin tingles where he touched me. My pussy clenches, a pulse of need rushing through me.
He chuckles darkly and leans back onto his stomach beside me, stretching out as if nothing happened. Silence settles between us for a while, the only sounds being the waves and Mattia’s laughter in the water.
After a few minutes, Dante stands and retrieves his laptop, settling into a shaded spot on the yacht. I close my eyes again, letting the warmth lull me into a hazy relaxation.
