Rose sucked in a breath. “It was in the negotiations, but that’s irrelevant.”
Unsurprising, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. Dante lowered his hand slowly. “It’s not irrelevant. Your pussy is mine, Rosa. And I’ll be reclaiming her now, so stop arguing semantics and tell me what you want. Condom or no?”
“We shouldn’t.”
“I don’t give a fuck about should or shouldn’t. Those words aren’t for us. Yes or no?”
He found himself holding his breath as she fought some internal battle. Saying yes would be a huge step in showing that, regardless of what she thought she should do, she actually trusted him. At least to keep her safe.
Finally, Rose shook her head. “We can’t.”
“What did I just say about—”
“We can’t, Dante. You didn’t snatch my birth control pills when you snatched me. It’s only been a little over twenty-four hours, I think, but it’s not worth the risk.”
For a moment, the temptation to press her on it nearly overwhelmed him. If there were a baby involved… No. Damn it, no. He hadn’t thought about kids, to be perfectly honest. It had never really occurred to him to worry about it overmuch. Breeding heirs was Matteo’s job once he finally settled down and married someone suitable. With Dante’s history, he was more suited to being a warrior rather than a caretaker. If…when…he and Rose had children, they would want for nothing and fear nothing because he would stand between them and whatever threats arose. Hell, he’d go one step further and ensure there were no threats to rise.
Apparently he did want kids.
With Rose.
But not yet.
He frowned. “Where can we get birth control pills?”
“Easy answer; take me home.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Enough talking. We’ll use rubbers.” He bent down and picked her up, ignoring her protests, and stalked out of the gym and into the main living room. He’d fuck her in the gym later. Right now, he wanted to take his time. He dumped her on the couch and moved to flick the fireplace back on. It wasn’t overly cold, but she had on next to nothing, and he didn’t want her getting chilled. “Take off your shirt, Rosa.”
“Condoms.”
“Si.” He yanked open the drawer in the center of the coffee table and grabbed a handful of them. “Good enough?”
She stared. “How long have those been in there?”
“They’re replaced monthly.”
She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t your murder-cabin, then. It’s your fuck-cabin.”
“This is my cabin, and sometimes that means I bring people here I want to fuck, si.” He dropped the condoms on the coffee table and planted his hands on either side of the pile. “Are you feeling jealous, amata? None of them compared to you.”
“I’m not jealous.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and dragged it up and over her head. Rose tossed the shirt away and leaned back a bit on her elbows. The move arched her back and put her tits on full display. They were perfect and she knew it. She lifted a brow, silently challenging him.
He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she constantly provoked him because she trusted him not to cross the line. He liked it a lot. Dante moved around the coffee table so he could sit on it in front of her. Not much space separated them, giving him a front-row view of how her breasts shook with each breath, her dark-pink nipples tight and distended. “Spread your thighs, nice and wide. Let me see you.”
She obeyed slowly, her breathing picking up without him so much as touching her. Her panties, a bright-blue thong, were already wet and tangled from their early interaction, and they gaped, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her pussy. He hadn’t noted it in the shower because he’d been too focused on how good she felt clamped around his fingers; now there were no distractions. She looked different here, too. “You waxed for him.”
“Da.” She obviously meant for that to come out sharp, but she was panting too hard to pull it off.
Dante hooked two fingers around the front of her panties, tugging the damp fabric from her skin. He shifted his fingers up and down, dragging his knuckles lightly over her. He didn’t have preferences about grooming one way or another—she was Rose, and therefore, he wanted her—but knowing she waxed for another man, that she intended to let him touch her like this…
Jealous was too tame a word.
“Dante.”
“Hush, I’m thinking.” He kept up the slow movements, very aware of how she became wetter and wetter in response. Her pussy fucking bloomed for him.
Would it have bloomed for Romeo?
“You’re mine, Rosa.”
“Nyet.”
“Si.” He held her gaze and pressed two fingers into her. “This pussy, this body, that fucking brain of yours. Mine.”
“Nyet.” But she spread her legs wider and rolled her hips, urging his fingers deeper. “It’s just sex.”
“Always the lies with you.” He twisted his wrist, finding that spongey spot inside her that had her sucking in a breath. “Will you pretend you’re faking this, too? No. No more lies, Rosa. You’re going to come for me again and again until I’m satisfied, and then I’m going to fuck this pretty pussy until you forget his name.”
“It’ll never happen.”
Why did she keep fighting him even as her body took him eagerly?
Why did he like it so much?
“You make me crazed.”
“Dante.” She cupped her breasts, rolling her hips as she tried to fuck his fingers. “God, that feels good. Don’t stop.” She reached out a shaking hand. “Kiss me.”
“No.” He pressed a third finger into her, staring at her lying mouth. He wanted to taste her again more than he wanted his next breath, but he wouldn’t. “Not until you tell me truth instead of the bullshit you keep spouting.”
“But—”
“Not until you stop fucking lying.” He went to his knees in front of her and fisted the pathetic excise for panties in either hand. One good jerk and the fabric ripped down the center. Rose barely had time to gasp before he descended and kissed her pussy.
The same, but different. Everything was the same but so fucking different.
He gripped her thighs and pressed her legs up and out, spreading her obscenely. He backed enough to stare down at her pussy and ass, right there for the taking.
“Dante.” She dug her fingers into his hair and tugged. “Please.”
As much as part of him wanted to torment her as long as he could, his woman was in need, and he wouldn’t leave her hanging like this. Not when the scent of her desire nearly had him coming in his shorts. He let her guide him back to the apex of her thighs and licked her from front to back before reversing course. Even as she started shaking, her legs fighting his grip, he took his time reacquainting himself with her until he worked his way up to her clit. He exhaled against the sensitive bud, making her whimper in response.
Dante gave up all teasing at that whimper. He sealed his mouth to her pussy, working her clit in the vertical strokes she liked so much. She cried out, bucking against his hold, but he held her down and didn’t relent. Breathless Russian spilled from her lips in an increasing crescendo, and then she was coming, crying out loud enough to nearly be labeled a scream.