Page 26 of Wicked Takeover
Chapter Four
This was beyond foolish, totally stupid, and so damn needed, Lauren didn’t want to consider the consequences.
She snuggled into Dante, craving his heat, scent, and mouth. His lips were ungodly soft, his cheeks so bristly the stubble scoured her skin, intensifying his masculinity and heightening everything female about her. For the first time in her life, Lauren felt dainty. She cupped his head and drove her tongue deep into his mouth.
Dante growled. He not only participated in their kiss, he fucking claimed her, his arm around her waist, his caress tight enough to prove she wasn’t going anywhere.
She’d have to be crazy to want to escape. She kissed him with wild abandon.
His tongue pushed hers aside so his could fill her mouth. A faint coffee scent lingered on his breath. His skin smelled clean and musky.
Heat poured through her, curled in her stomach, and dipped lower, weakening her legs. She sagged into him.
Protective and possessive, he supported her weight, his passion matching hers. There was no hesitation, only hunger. He squeezed her breast and thumbed her nipple.
The tip tightened enough to hurt. The ache felt good. Needed. Her tongue danced with his, and she ground against his cock.
He made eager, shameless sounds that fueled her desire. Their kiss evolved from out of control to beyond anything Lauren had ever known. She stroked his shoulders, biceps, and back, greedy to experience as much of him as she could.
Dante touched her everywhere.
On a strained groan, he pulled his mouth free and lifted his face to the ceiling, gulping air. His chest bumped hers.
Lauren was transfixed by his Adam’s apple. She loved how it bobbed from his hard swallow. The stubble on his throat was hotter than sin. She licked those short, dark hairs and suckled his neck.
A lewd noise rumbled from Dante and mingled with the music. The Spanish guitars were gone, replaced by a sultry Cuban beat that spoke of tropical nights, fevered kisses, and balmy air scented with sex.
Lauren’s ears buzzed. She nestled closer.
Dante whispered something in Spanish that she didn’t understand. Didn’t matter. His actions spoke volumes.
He cupped her ass and pulled her into his rock-hard cock. His hair brushed her neck, tickling her.
How she adored that.
He trailed kisses from her cheek to her temple, then to her ear. After licking her lobe, he worked his tongue inside.
The wet warmth undid her, stealing her breath and thoughts. She wilted against him, wanting every intimate and carnal act that he’d be willing to share with her.
He suckled her throat.
His mouth and tongue left heated bursts in their wake.
She gasped in pleasure, gripped his tee, and twisted the stretchy fabric, wanting to tear it from him.
He pressed his mouth to her ear. “You all right?”
Too lost in the moment to speak, she nodded.
“Good.” He pulled her away from the wall and slung her over his shoulder.
Lauren yelped and gripped his ass for support. His solid muscles flexed beneath her fingers. If she could have vocalized her delight, she would have let out a crude, wanton moan.
Despite her weight, Dante easily strode down the hall toward the back room. Visions of melting Dove Bars filled Lauren’s brain. Maybe he’d had the same fantasy about her. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” He ran his hand over her ass, his thumb on her cleft. “Yet.”
If she got any wetter, she’d embarrass herself. She dropped her head. His tee smelled nice but was no match for the thrilling male fragrance beneath.
