Page 28 of The Dead Don’t Scream

I check my body. My breathing. The certainty that he will stop the second I ask.

“Green.”

“Slow?”

“Yes.”

He kneels again. This time, there are no jokes. No taunting. He presses soft kisses along my inner thighs, deliberately avoiding the places still throbbing from too much sensation. My body gradually relaxes.

His mouth returns with exquisite care. Slow strokes. Gentle pressure. A single finger moving inside me. He rebuilds my pleasure from the beginning, paying attention to every breath and twitch. Whenever my thighs tighten, he eases back. Whenever my hands loosen on his mask, he gives me more.

The second climax doesn’t crash through me. It rolls. Deep, warm, and endless. Dante keeps his promise. He doesn’t overwhelm me. He guides me through it, holding my hips while my body shudders beneath his mouth. When it ends, I sag against the mirror.

Dante stands. His mouth glistens. I reach for him. He catches my wrist. One red ribbon remains beside Callum’s gold. Dante lowers his head and takes the end of his ribbon between his teeth. He pulls the knot loose. The silk slides across my skin. He straightens with the ribbon hanging from his mouth like a victorious animal.

“That was unnecessarily dramatic.”

“There is no other kind.”

“Am I allowed to leave?”

“Allowed?” His head tilts. “Yes.”

“And if I stay?”

“Then I’ll make you come again.”

Tempting. Far too tempting. But only one ribbon remains. Gold. I look toward the door.

“Callum.”

The playfulness vanishes from Dante’s posture.

“Callum,” he confirms.

“What is his problem?”

“That depends on how much time you have.”

“I have until sunrise.”

“It might not be enough.”

Dante lowers my dress and helps me down from the counter. My knees buckle when my boots touch the floor.

He catches my waist.

“Easy.”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course.”

“I am.”

“You can’t stand.”

“That sounds like your fault.”