Page 31 of The Rival's Obsession
He flips his—nine of spades.
I exhale through my nose, more amused than disappointed.
Dante offers his hand, helping me slide off the table. He doesn't look at my face now—his eyes have dipped lower, drawn to the sway of my hips and the hem of my dress clinging to the tops of my thighs.
I’m already guessing what direction we’re headed. And I’m right.
“Clothes off,” he murmurs. “Heels stay on.”
Of course.
I smirk, turning around in front of him with an exaggerated arch of my back as I take a seat on his lap, deep and slow. I feel his cock—already hard—pressing up into me through his slacks.
Ooh. Big boy.
His hands go straight to my hips, fingers tightening in a grip that promises he’s been thinking about this since I first perched on the table.
“Having a hard time, Mr. Moretti?” I tease, voice brushing the shell of his ear as I lean back and whisper.
His grip tightens.
“I was,” he mutters, low and rough. “Still am.”
“Mind helping with my zipper?”
I move my hair to one side, exposing my bare back to him.
His hands slide up—deliberate, reverent. Palms dragging up the curve of my spine, fingers brushing bare skin until they find the zipper. He takes his time, lowering it inch by inch until the dress loosens around me, held only by gravity and posture.
I rise from his lap and turn around slowly, catching his eye as I push the dress off my shoulders and let it fall. The fabric slips down my body, pooling at my feet like silk spilled from a secret.I step out of it with one heel, nudging it aside with the other as I stand there, bare and unapologetic.
His eyes move.
They start at my feet—my tall, black heels he told me to keep on—then slowly, hungrily, they climb. He drinks in my legs, the slick heat between them. He lingers there. His gaze sharpens.
Then it moves higher.
My breasts lift with each slow breath. Nipples pebbling under his heated gaze.
They're high, bouncy, natural—just the right size for attention but not too much to be mistaken for an offering.
One of the best surgeons in the world is a longtime Ledger client, and mine are some of his best work.
Dante licks his mouth. Doesn’t even try to hide it.
I watch his throat bob with a swallow, his fingers flexing against his thighs like he’s holding himself back.
His eyes are locked on my chest now, and I know exactly what he’s thinking about.
Sucking.
Biting.
Teasing them until I’m gasping under his mouth.
His voice drops, velvet-dry. “Are you often without your panties?”
I grin, unabashed. “Usually.”
