She took Dante’s hand on her wrist as a warning and slid hers up to his chest, fingers sweeping over his collarbone to the curve of his neck. The other moved upward, making it no further than his upper arm when her nails dug into his skin for leverage against a full body spasm, a ripple of nerves flaring up her spine. An untamed cry tipped her head back as his fingers worked against the tension on the verge of being unbearable. She gently kneaded the back of his head where her fingers had tangled up in his hair and pulled and looked up at him; whatever it had been that flickered across his face retreated back into the abyss of his stare to an unreachable place and he kissed her before she could follow.
Violeta lifted her head and met him halfway, her mouth moving eagerly against his, another moan mangled between their lips. He would hear the smirk in her voice. “Having fun yet?” It was becoming increasingly more difficult to formulate a thought, let alone voice it, and she only barely managed this time. Her hips continued to speak for her rolling against his tempo as he worked her into a frenzy, urging him to give her that delicious release.