Chapter 120: 25| Habits-2

Holding myself upright while he worked his fingers inside of me felt impossible. My legs would have given out if he hadn't kept an arm secured around my waist while he left a trail of slow, hot kisses across my shoulder and neck. Positioning a foot between both of mine, he eased my legs further apart then applied more pressure to my clit. "Fuck, please," I cried out, my nails digging into my palms I tightened my fists. With each move he made, he picked up his pace, and with each second that passed, I felt myself coming undone bit by bit, a flame ignited in my core. My breaths turned shallow, and my entire body was flushed with heat. God, I couldn't fight it anymore, couldn't fight him. I could keep pretending I didn't want him anymore, but with each time he touched me, kissed me, and fucked me, he only made me more desperate, more needy for him. Dante was dangerous and sinful yet magnetic and addictive, like whiskey on ice. He was my bad habit, and old habits always die hard. "Tell me, sweetheart," he whispered, "could he touch you like this?" My eyes snapped open as his words washed over me while his fingers moved mercilessly inside of me, drawing me closer to orgasm. I began shaking my head lightly, struggling to stifle my moans. We were at the office, and although we were alone, this was the FBI headquarters. There were plenty of cameras stationed outside my cabin and plenty of security patrolling the grounds. Anybody could step out onto the floor, and they would hear me moaning and screaming for Dante beyond these doors. His arm around my waist loosened as he trailed fingers up my body and over my breasts, along my throat, and to my chin before brushing a thumb across my lip. "Let me hear it from that pretty little mouth," he demanded, "answer me." "No," I rasped out, "no, he couldn't. He won't." "That's it," Dante praised, swirling his thumb over my clit. "He'll never get the chance, will he, Anastasia? Would you let him fuck you the way I do?" "No," I repeated, dropping my head against his chest. "Please, Dante, I can't take it anymore." "I'm not done with you yet, Mia Cara." "Please," I begged with complete abandonment, "please, just let me come. I promise…" The words sat on the tip of my tongue, but making promises and surrendering myself to Dante felt like selling my soul to the Devil. "Mm-hmm, tell me," he urged. I could hear the pride and smugness in his tone. A soft groan crawled up my throat, frustration morphed into pleasure. "I promise, I'll be good," I offered. He'd kept me teetering on the edge of my release for so long it was getting harder to tell the difference between pleasure and pain. Everything he did to me felt agonizingly good, but he just wouldn't drive me over the edge. "Enough, please, I can't take it anymore," I breathed out, the faintest whimper escaping me as he pulled away. The disappointment died in my throat when he spun me around to face him and backed me into the table, lifting me onto it with just one arm around my waist with extreme ease. All sensations increased tenfold now that I was looking at his eyes. "Will you do as I say?" he asked. I nodded frantically as I struggled to keep my hands to myself until he'd let me touch him. "Yes," I agreed, spreading my legs wider as he stepped between them and eased his fingers back inside of me, eliciting another gasp followed by a loud moan. Minutes passed. He'd been torturing me sweetly for nearly forty-five minutes, and I was sure I couldn't handle it if it went on any longer. "Beg," he finally whispered, his lips brushing against mine. "Fuck, please," I inhaled shakily, "I've never wanted anyone this badly. You have no idea how much I despise you for it." "You despise me," he echoed, "but you're dripping all over my hand, Anastasia." "Let me touch you," I said, meeting his eyes. Instead of giving me an answer, he simply grabbed the belt that bound my wrists and brought my hands to his chest, allowing me to feel him. Almost immediately, my hands slid down his torso and abdomen until I grabbed his waistband and drew his hips forward, pulling him closer. "Please, Dante, I need to come," I panted. The end of my plea was silenced as his lips came down on mine, and he curled his fingers inside of me, drawing me over the edge. My orgasm crashed into me, and my moans were stifled by the kiss while his arm remained taut around my waist, keeping me steady. Dante continued until I rode my orgasm out and couldn't handle his touch anymore. Applying pressure where my hands were braced on his chest, I broke the kiss with a small whimper, pushing his hand away from me and closing my legs. Heat crawled up the back of my neck as reality slammed into me. Sighing softly as a storm of emotions took shape within me, my head fell forward. God, what does he do to me? A minute passed before I felt him take my hands and gently undo the belt, placing it aside. My wrists were slightly red from the restraints of his belt, but the way he ran his thumbs along the marks caught me by surprise. Naturally, my head snapped up, and I watched with curiosity as he eyed the marks for a minute before lifting each wrist to his lips and leaving the softest kiss on my skin. "What are you doing?" I asked softly. His gaze met mine. "Did it hurt?" I blinked. "A… a little but…" "I don't like that," he replied. I paused briefly before saying, "You didn't hurt me. You didn't do anything I don't like. You never do." I tugged at his waistband lightly when he let out a small breath and glanced at the window, breaking eye contact. "Mr Rossi," I whispered, tracing his tattoo with a finger before I left a light kiss on his neck, then one on his shoulder, another on his chest until I finally had his attention again. I unhooked the button on his pants. "Don't I get a turn?" I asked. "Fuck," he cursed softly, tearing my hands away. "Not here. It's getting late, we could get caught." I watched him as he grabbed his belt, then rounded my desk and opened a drawer, knowing I kept spare clothes in there, before he came back to me. "Let me take you home," he said. He was still… hard. But he wasn't initiating sex. A pause and then a tiny smirk as he tipped my chin up. "Don't worry, Mia Cara, I'll fuck you as many times as you like once I get you home." I glanced at the torn dress splayed on the floor. "You ripped my dress," I pointed out. "Charge me for it," he mused, handing me my panties. Rolling my eyes at him, I swiped them from him and got dressed, cleaning up the room with him before we headed out. . . . . . Chapter 25 💀💀