Page 183 of Dante

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"Marina—" My voice is wrecked. "I'm going to?—"

I pull out and grip my cock. Stroke once. Twice.

Then I come.

Hot ropes of cum paint her stomach. Her breasts. I groan through it. My whole body shakes. The pleasure is blinding.

I stroke myself through every pulse. Watch my release mark her skin.

Mine.

The word echoes in my head.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

When it's over, I collapse beside her. Careful of my wound. Careful of her.

We lie there.

Breathing hard.

The room smells like sex. Like sweat. Like us.

Marina turns her head. Looks at me. Her hair is a mess. Her lips are swollen. Her eyes are glazed.

She's never looked more beautiful.

"That—" She pauses. Catches her breath. "That was the best sex I've ever had."

I laugh.

The sound surprises me. I can't remember the last time I laughed. Really laughed.

"Cara." I roll onto my side. Ignore the fire in my wound. Reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. "That was a sample."

Her eyes widen.

"A sample?"

"Mmm." I trace my finger down her cheek. Her jaw. Her throat. "I'm wounded. Operating at maybe sixty percent."

"That was sixty percent?"

"Maybe seventy." I lean in. Press a kiss to her shoulder. "When I'm healed, I'm going to fuck you properly."

She shivers.

"Define properly."

I smile against her skin.

"I'm going to take my time." I kiss her collarbone. "Worship every inch of you." I kiss the swell of her breast. "Make you come so many times you lose count."

"Dante—"

"I'm going to bend you over every surface." I look up at her. Hold her gaze. "The couch. The kitchen counter. The shower. Against the windows."

Her breath catches.

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