The public thought we were still engaged, but it was private moments like these that I’d missed—the little jokes and asides, the personal details, the conversations about mundane topics that, taken as a whole, meant as much as more meaningful talks.
Love wasn’t always about the big moments. More often, it was tucked in the small moments connecting the major ones.
This date felt like one of those. A stepping stone on our path toward potential reconciliation.
I wasn’t ready to fully trust Dante again, but I might one day.
“For someone who hasn’t had a serious relationship in years, you’re pretty good at putting together these dates,” I said after we finished eating. We walked through the garden to stretch our legs and soak in our surroundings before we left.
All around us, spring flowers bloomed—lilacs, peonies, and azaleas; dogwoods, wild geraniums, and Spanish bluebells. The air was alive with the sweet scents of nature, but I barely noticed. I was too distracted by Dante’s scent and the heat emanating from his body.
It touched my side, warm and heavy even though we walked a respectable distance from each other.
“It’s easy when you know the other person.” His reply was both casual and intimate.
My heart wavered for a beat. “And you think you know me?”
“I like to think I do.”
We stopped in the shade of a nearby tree, its trunk against my back, its branches arching overhead in a canopy of leaves.
Sunlight dappled through the foliage, turning Dante’s eyes into the color of rich, molten amber. A five o’clock shadow stubbled his strong jaw and cheeks, and my entire body tingled when I remembered the scratch of that stubble on my inner thighs.
The air sparked, a lit match in a pool of gasoline.
All the banked heat we’d suppressed during lunch surged toward the surface in an unabashed wave. My skin was suddenly too hot, my clothes too heavy. An electric link snaked around us, slow and sinuous.
“For example…” Had my voice always been that high and breathy?
“For example, I know you’re still scared,” Dante said softly. “I know you’re not ready to fully trust me again, but you want to. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”
His observation pierced my mask like it was made of nothing more than breaths and whispers.
Another wavering heartbeat. “That’s quite an assumption.”
“Perhaps.” A step brought him closer. My pulse sped up. “Then tell me. What do you want?”
“I…” His fingertips grazed my wrist, and my pulse broke into a flat-out sprint.
“Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.” Dante threaded his fingers with mine, his gaze steady. Hot.
Words eluded me, lost in the haze clouding my brain.
We stared at each other, the air heavy with things we wanted to but couldn’t say.
Amber darkened into midnight. Dante’s body was a study in tension, his jaw hard and his shoulders so taut his muscles were almost vibrating.
His next words pitched low and rough. “Tell me what you want, Vivian. Do you want me on my knees?”
Oh God.
Oxygen disappeared when he slowly lowered himself to the ground, the movement both proud and subservient.
His breath fanned across my skin. “Do you want this?” His fingers trailed from my hand down over the back of my leg, leaving fire in their wake.
My thoughts muddled, but I had the remaining sense to know this wasn’t about sex. It was about vulnerability. Atonement. Absolution.
It was a pivotal moment disguised as an inconsequential one and condensed into one word.
“Yes.” It was both command and capitulation, moan and sigh.
Dante’s breath released.
If I were with anyone else, I’d worry about someone walking by and seeing us. But Dante’s presence was like an invisible shield protecting me from the rest of the world.
If he didn’t want anyone to see us, they wouldn’t.
His palms burned as they parted my thighs.
He’d barely touched me, and I was already on fire.
I tipped my head back, drowning in arousal, in heat and lust and the reverence of his touch as he kissed his way up my thigh. His stubble rasped against my skin and sent tiny shocks of pleasure down my spine.
“I’m sorry.” The aching whisper ghosted over me, seeping into my veins and settling into my bones. Another shiver ran through me. “I’m sorry for hurting you…” A soft kiss at the delicate crease between my thigh and insistent heat. “For pushing you away…” He slid my underwear to the side and gently touched his tongue to my clit. “For ever making you feel unwanted when you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”
His raw words blended with my cry when he drew my clit into his mouth and sucked. My body arched away from the tree. My hands sank into his hair, and I could only hold on as he worshipped me with his lips and hands and tongue.
Rough yet smooth. Firm yet pleading. Carnal yet tender. Every movement sent another jolt of pure sensation through me.
Pressure built simultaneously in my chest and at the base of my spine. I was breathless with it, flying high on nothing but emotion and adrenaline.
He drew back and grazed his teeth against my sensitive clit. He pushed two fingers inside me, thrusting and curling while I writhed with abandon.
Dante knew my body. He knew exactly which buttons to push and which spots to hit, and he played it like a finely tuned instrument. A maestro conducting an orchestra of sighs and moans.
He pressed his thumb against my clit at the same time he hit my G-spot.
The pressure exploded.
My orgasm rocked through me, and my cries still echoed in the air when Dante rose to his feet, his chest heaving.
He braced his hands on either side of my head and tenderly kissed away the tears sliding down my cheeks.
I hadn’t realized I’d been crying.
He paused when he reached my lips.
Silence thickened between us as his mouth hovered a hair’s breadth from mine, waiting. Hoping. Seeking permission.
I almost gave in. Almost tilted my chin up and closed the breath between us while my body buzzed from the aftershocks of my climax.
Instead, I turned my head. Just a fraction, but enough for Dante to step back with a ragged breath.
We took a big step forward, but I wasn’t ready for another one yet. I was too physically and emotionally drained.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to apologize, mia cara.” His fingers twined with mine again, strong and reassuring. His eyes were soft. “As many steps as it takes, remember? We’ll get there.”