Page 136 of Dante

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My tongue presses against the underside of his cock. I take him deeper. Feel him hit the back of my throat.

My eyes water.

I don't care.

"Cazzo." His hand tightens in my hair. "Marina?—"

I moan around him.

His hips jerk.

I gag slightly. Pull back. Take him again.

The rhythm is clumsy. Unpracticed. My jaw burns with every stroke.

But his groans.

God, his groans.

They're worth every ache.

I hollow my cheeks. Suck harder.

"Fuck." His voice cracks. "Just like that. Just?—"

He doesn't finish.

His whole body goes rigid.

Not the good kind of rigid.

Something changes.

One second I'm on my knees with his cock in my mouth.

The next?—

Dante's hands are under my arms. Lifting me. Throwing me.

I don't even have time to gasp.

My back hits the cushions behind the couch. The impact knocks the air from my lungs.

"Stay down!"

His voice is different.

Not the rough, pleasure-drunk rasp from seconds ago.

This is cold. Sharp. Lethal.

I don't understand.

I don't?—

Dante drops behind the couch.

His body covers mine.