A King's Weakness (Book 1)

Chapter 32

DANTE MAY BE CRUEL, POWERFUL, AND CUNNING, BUT he is not slow. There is no hesitation on his part, which I am all too thankful for.

His mouth crashes into mine with unerring accuracy, somehow finding my lips in the darkness that even my shifter eyesight can't breach. One hand traces a path up my bare back, following the trail of my spine as the other grabs the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

Fuck, he tastes good—all honeyed wine and spice. When he nips at my lower lip, tugging it between his teeth hard enough that the metallic taste of my own blood rolls across my tongue, I gasp, opening for him. It stings, but the pain sets my blood ablaze, heat and butterflies pooling in my stomach.

My body takes over, shoving what few brain cells I have in the back seat, and I roll my hips, scooting further up his body. A slight buzzing sensation tells me that my lip has already healed, and then I forget all about it because—sweet Jesus, his tongue. He tangles it up with my own, tightening his grip on the nape of my neck, twisting his fingers in my hair.

My hips grind down again, rolling against the hardness below me. Dante's own hips push up, pressing against the softest part of me. I gasp, all the air escaping my lungs, and then those wicked teeth of his bite down on my tongue—just a tease, but it makes my entire body shiver.

A tingle ripples across my gums, my fangs sliding free without my meaning to. Dante's tongue is back, gliding against mine, when he finds the razor sharp tip of one of them. He groans into my mouth, tracing the shape of them, and I'm lost.

"Take it off," I hiss, my hands grasping at his shirt as I desperately try to untuck it.

The prince's answering smirk tastes like pure sin, and silky material disintegrates, literally turning to ash. My palms are on his bare chest, one hand tracing the delicious curves of his abs, the other sliding up and over his shoulder.

This time, I'm the one to find his mouth in the dark, tracing the outline of his lips with the tip of my tongue until he's breathing heavily.

The hand between my shoulder blades blazes a trail of fire along my ribs, the backs of his fingers skimming the underside of my breast. And then he uses his grip on my hair to pull my head back to the point of painful bliss.

"Is this what you wanted?" Dante growls in a voice of pure smoke, his lips making me jump when he plants a small kiss in the hollow of my throat.

I can barely speak with the way he's tugging my head back, but the animalistic snarl that escapes me is answer enough.

"No?" he murmurs against my skin, leaving small kisses down my sternum until I'm panting again.

I've never been touched like this, never had anyone set me ablaze like this.

Another kiss, this one just to the side of my nipple.

"I'd like an answer, Calamity," he purrs.

Anger flares brightly for a moment, reminding me of all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. "Fuck y—" I snap, beginning to fight against his grip on my hair.

His tongue flicks out, licking the peak of one breast, and I lose my fucking mind. The breathless moan that leaves my lips isn't a sound I've ever heard myself make before.

He yanks on my hair harder, making me bow backwards even further, but I don't care.

"Mmm, such fire, little hellcat."

Another shiver passes over me, and I roll my hips against his again, enjoying his sharp intake of breath.

Dante's mouth closes over the other nipple, hot and wet against my skin, and now I'm the one gasping. His hold on my hair releases, and I shoot forward, both hands going to press his shoulders back so he smacks against the wall.