To Capture a Thorn (The Society 2)
Page 16
“Sian?”
Cupping Dante’s jaw, I drew him down to me, and he kissed me back.
I didn’t know if it started to rain in protest to what I was doing, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to feel Dante’s mouth on mine. To make my own choices. To live by them. Not to be told when I should or shouldn’t care. I was in control of my body.
With the rain coming down, there was still warmth within the air. I pushed at the jacket Dante wore, and it fell to the ground.
Next, I attacked his shirt, wanting it off him. I didn’t want anything between us.
Dante broke the kiss. “Sian?”
“Please.”
“I don’t want you to regret this.”
I palmed his rock-hard cock. “I won’t regret this. This is what I want.” I whispered the words against his ear before stepping back. With my gaze on his, I grabbed the hem of my dress, then lifted it up over my head and threw it to the ground.
His gaze roamed over my body, going to my tits, then to my pussy, and finally back to my face.
Within seconds, he had me shoved against the tree. His hands all over my body, touching my hips, my breasts, around to my ass. He drew me close so his dick was flush to my stomach.
On a moan, I pressed against him.
I didn’t know how it happened, but I landed on his jacket, legs spread, and Dante between them. His kisses lighting a fire within me.
He’d removed his clothing, and now I felt him naked against me. Skin to skin. He tugged at my panties, and I heard them tear, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered other than feeling him inside me.
Dante ran his hands up the inside of my thigh, going toward my pussy. I cried out his name, arching up against his touch as his fingers explored me. He grazed across my clit, stroking down to my entrance.
“You’re so wet,” he said.
“I want you.”
He plunged a finger inside me, then a second, working my pussy, spreading me wide around his digits.
We both moaned as I rocked up against him. His thumb touched my clit, rocking back and forth across from it. With his fingers, I did feel full.
“You’re so tight still.”
“Please,” I said.
“You were supposed to give William his turn,” Dante said.
“He’ll get his turn. Please.”
“You want to come?” he asked.
“Yes, and then I want you to fuck me.”
He kissed my neck. His tongue slid across my pulse before he nipped at me. I groaned, thrusting up against his hand, wanting him so badly.
“Fuck, you feel amazing. I always knew you would. So fucking good.”
“Yes.” I felt the start of my orgasm. The slow build was delightful as I rocked back and forth on his fingers, taking him as deep as I could get.
Up and down, not letting go.
“Yes, yes,” I said.
My entire body flooded with release, and it was the best feeling in the world as Dante thrust me over the edge into the most blissful peace ever imagined.
I was all his.
Before I’d even come down from my peak, I felt him between my legs. I couldn’t help but tense. The last time, there had been pain, but as he thrust deep inside me, there was no pain, just a feel of fullness that took over.
He grabbed my hands, locking our fingers together, and started to fuck me. With the rain pelting down all around us, the ground beneath my back felt so good. Better than good.
For the first time in ten months, I felt alive, and oddly enough, in control. No one could take this from me.
When Dante’s head went back, his neck clenched as he came inside me, I relished the feel of him, the flood of his arousal.
I wasn’t going to live by anyone else’s rules. The Society could go and get fucked. I was finally going to live my life the way I wanted to.
Chapter Four
Gideon
The guys and Sian had decided to stay at my father’s place tonight. The house was quiet, and as I made my way downstairs, I went to his office. In all the years I’d known my father, I had never seen him look anything but impeccable. He always told me image was key.
Never showing weakness by always looking your best and being ready for whatever life threw at you.
My dad sat at his desk. His shirt was wrinkled and even from the doorway, I saw a stain from the pasta we’d all eaten. There was growth on his face from not shaving for the day. His hair was all over the place, clearly from running his fingers over it repeatedly.
“What are you doing up, son?” he asked.
“I could say the same about you.”
“I don’t have time for sleep.”
Even though he had a glass full of scotch on his desk, I saw the coffee in the cup beside him.