His gaze moved over me hungrily, like he couldn’t decide what part of me he wanted first.
My breath caught when he lifted me onto the auction table.
Every shadow moving outside the dome made my pulse spike, but he seemed completely unfazed.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom, but this time the movement felt seamless—like an extension of the heat between us instead of an interruption.
His gaze never left mine while he rolled it on.
“You’re the only woman I’ve wanted near me in years,” he said again, like he needed me to understand that. “The only one.”
I swallowed hard.
Then he pulled me closer to the edge of the table and slowly slid his cock into me inch by inch.
I moaned as he buried himself deep inside me, hoping he would give me a second to breathe.
He didn’t.
He groaned low in his throat and without warning, he started thrusting inside me at a hard and punishing pace—like he was trying to fuck every ounce of jealousy and frustration out of both of us.
“Oh my God?—”
“I do want you,” he said, thrusting deeper. “I wanted you from the first fucking day.”
I clawed at his shoulders as he kept driving into me, the table trembling beneath us.
“Tell me you felt it too.”
I nodded.
“No.” He grabbed my jaw, forcing my eyes back to his. “Tell me.”
“Yes,” I gasped. “I felt it too.”
“Good fucking girl.”
The praise hit me harder than the next thrust.
My thighs tightened around his waist before I could stop them.
He bent lower, sucking one nipple into his mouth while his hand slid between my legs.
I couldn’t keep up, couldn’t think.
Couldn’t do anything except take him.
“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he groaned against my skin. “Look at you…”
The filthy approval in his voice nearly pushed me over the edge right then.
“I tried staying away from you,” he admitted, thrusting deeper. “Tried being smart about this.”
Another thrust.
“It didn’t fucking work.” His thumb pressed against my clit while his strokes turned rougher, deeper, and suddenly my entire body locked up around him.
“Oh my God—Dante?—”