Dante’s POV
My fingers circled the waistline of her lacy panties, dipping just a little, teasing her until she couldn’t think straight. Until she broke for me. “Use your words.”
“Your touch,” she breathed, voice thin and shaky. “I need your touch.”
“Where?” I pulled my hand back just enough for her eyes to snap open, wide and desperate. “Tell me.”
Her cheeks flushed deep, color rushing down her throat. Her thighs pressed together like she could stop the ache building between them. “Everywhere.”
A low sound slipped out of me. “Not even close to good enough.”
I stepped back completely and let go of her wrists. They fell uselessly at her sides as she stared at me, her chest rising fast, her body begging even without her mouth.
“If you want something from me,” I drawled, letting my eyes drag over her naked skin, “you’re going to earn it.”
Her breath hitched. “Earn it? H..how?”
I moved in close enough that my breath brushed her lips, but not close enough to touch her.
“Beg.”
Her eyes went wide with outrage. “What?”
“You heard me.” I crossed my arms, pretending to be relaxed even though my cock was pounding, begging to be inside her. But dragging this out, watching her fight herself, watching that pride crumble, that was almost as good as touching her. “Beg me to touch you.”
She bit her lip, stubborn fire still burning in her eyes. She hated giving an inch.
Finally, she breathed it out. “No.”
A slow smile pulled at my mouth. Of course she wouldn’t make it easy.
“So you’re playing stubborn.” My gaze traveled down her body with deliberate slowness, lingering on the rise and fall of her chest, the flush creeping down her neck, before settling between her thighs. “Interesting choice.”
“I’m fine with it,” she said, too quickly.
“You’re fine?” I chuckled, low and dark. “When I know you’re dying for me to touch your clit. It’s throbbing for it?”
Her breath hitched. “I’m… not.”
“Not what, baby?” I pressed closer, letting the heat from my body press against hers. “Not wet? Not aching? Not clenching around nothing, wishing it was my fingers inside you?”
“Stop….”
“Stop telling the truth?” I tilted my head, watching her flushed face, the heat radiating off her. “Look at yourself. You’re squeezing your thighs together so tight I’m surprised you can even stand.”
Her eyes dropped involuntarily, and I watched the realization dawn on her face. She tried to relax, tried to hide the evidence of her need, but her legs trembled with the effort. Every muscle in her body was wound tight as a bowstring
“Can’t help it, can you?” I murmured, letting my breath brush her skin. “Your body knows what it wants, even if that stubborn mouth of yours won’t admit it.”
Chapter 123 She Chose Pride Over Pleasure
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She shot me a look, defiant, though the desire in her eyes betrayed her. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“And you’re so full of lies.” My lips latched onto her earlobes. “But I’m patient. I can wait… I can wait for you to break.”
“I won’t…”
“You will.” My voice left no room for argument. “But since you’re so determined to refuse me, so committed to this little act…” reached for her hand, curling my fingers around her delicate wrist. “You’ll have to settle for your own.”
Confusion flashed across her face. “What are you talking about?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I guided her hand down slowly, giving her every opportunity to stop me, to protest. She didn’t. Her breathing grew shallower with every inch, anticipation and uncertainty etched in her expression.
When her fingers slipped in between her thighs, she whispered, “Dante, what are you…”
The words died on her lips as I pressed her palm against herself, right over the thin fabric covering her pussy. Even through the material, I could feel the heat of her.
“Oh…,” she breathed.
“Oh what?” I pressed her hand a little harder, forcing her to feel exactly how worked up she already was. “Do you know what I’m feeling right now?”
She couldn’t answer. She only stared up at me, her eyes darker, deeper, hungry.
“Heat. So much heat.” I guided her hand in a slow circle. “You’re burning up for me, aren’t you?”
“This is you learning what happens when you lie to me.” I slipped her hand beneath her panties, and the instant her fingers touched her bare skin, a groan tore from both of us.
“Fuck,” I growled, feeling her slickness coat her fingers. “You’re soaked. Absolutely drenched.” I dragged her fingers through her wetness, coating them again. “And you had the nerve to tell me you weren’t desperate for me?”
“I didn’t…oh…”
“Didn’t what? Didn’t get wet through your panties thinking about my hands on you? Didn’t start dripping the second I told you to beg?”
I held her wrist firm, guiding her fingers in slow, delicious strokes. “Your pussy is telling me a very different story than your mouth, sweetheart.”
She whimpered, her free hand gripping my shoulder for balance.
Every instinct in me clawed to take over, push her hand away, slide my fingers into that heat, feel that slick softness for myself. I wanted to be the one inside her, filling her, driving her straight into a scream. My cock was so hard it hurt, straining against my pants, demanding relief. 1.
But no.
This was about control. About making her understand exactly who she belonged to. About teaching her that her pleasure was mine to give, mine to deny, and never hers to take on her own. She needed to feel that, down to the last trembling breath.
So I swallowed down the burning need and kept my focus on her hand, on torturing us both.
“Feel how wet you are,” I murmured against her neck, my lips brushing her racing pulse. “Feel what you do to yourself when
you think about me.”
“Dante…”
“Dante what?” I dragged her fingers upward, painfully slow, slow enough to make her shake, “Touch you properly? Give you
Chapter 123. She chose Pride Over Pleasure
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what you need?”
“Yes…no…I don’t know…”
“You don’t know?” I finally let her fingers reach her clit. The second they touched, her whole body jolted, knees giving out.
I caught her easily, keeping her upright as I guided her band in tight, slow circles. “I think you know exactly what you want. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
“Oh God, oh God…”
“That’s it, baby. Feel that?” I pressed her fingers harder, just enough to send a shock through her. Her mouth fell open, eyes barely able to stay focused. “That little point that’s screaming for more? I could make you come from nothing but this. Could keep you here all day, rubbing this spot until you’re shaking so hard you can’t even speak.”
Her hips surged forward, desperate, chasing pressure she wasn’t getting.
“But we’re not there yet, are we?” I loosened my hold, making the touch light, almost teasing, just enough to keep her panting Because you still haven’t begged.”
“This isn’t fair,” she gasped.
“Fair?” I actually laughed. “Nothing about this is fair, sweetheart. Fair would be me bending you over and fucking you until you couldn’t stand straight. Fair would be making you come so many times you’d beg me to stop instead of start.”
I circled her clit again, slow enough to drive a sane person wild. “But you chose this. You chose pride over pleasure.”
no
“I hate you,” she whimpered, voice shaking, real fight behind it.
“No, you don’t.” I kissed just below her ear, feeling her pulse jump. “You hate that I’m right. You hate that your body listens to me even when your mouth keeps pretending it won’t.”
I guided her fingers down, away from her clit, and the sound she made, frustrated, needy, helpless, went straight to my cock.
“Patience,” I murmured. “We’re just getting started.”
I dragged her fingers through her wetness again, coating them completely. She was getting wetter by the second, her body coiling tighter, desperate for something I wasn’t going to give her yet.
“Do you feel how your pussy is clenching?” I murmured, circling her entrance with her own fingers, slow, teasing, never dipping inside. “It’s trying to pull you in. Trying to be filled.”
“You know what I need…”
“Oh, there’s a lot you need.”
Circle. Tease. Circle. Stroke. Slow pump.
“So which one are you trying to ask for?”
Her breath shuddered. “…Everything.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
