Chapter 38: Dante's Game

Dante stares down at me wolfishly.

"So tell me," he says, "while we've been apart, did you have someone make sure these delicate nipples of yours were getting enough attention?" He gives me another squeeze, then catches my other nipple in his grip. "Did he know how to make you whimper with just a twist of his fingers?" He hardly turns his fingers at all, and yet the motion draws a sound from my throat that could most definitely be called a whimper.

"No," I manage to gasp out. The last guy who touched my breasts seemed in a rush to get on to other things - which is part of why he didn't.

"Did he figure out how soft these little nipples felt against his lips? Or how sweet they tasted at the end of a long day?" His mouth starts a slow, tantalizing journey down my throat, across my collarbone, down the slope of my chest. My skin trembles and tingles beneath his lips. I arch toward him.