Chapter 123: 27| Guilty-1

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ Guilty ┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛ I changed the chapter name. Chapter 27: Guilty (Anastasia's POV) Our clothes were a mess as we tore them off of each other, discarding them wherever we could while making our way through the foyer and toward the staircase that led up to my room. A faint growl reached our ears as I felt Dante's hands travel from my knees up to my thighs as he hoisted me up, bringing my legs around his waist. I paused for a moment, amusement etched into my features as I found Kenji guarding the top of the stairs. "God, he really doesn't like you," I said, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to crawl out my throat as his teeth grazed my neck between hot and slow kisses. "It's understandable," I forced out breathlessly, "I don't like you either." He paused halfway up the stairs, drawing back to meet my eyes. "Try telling me that when you're coming on my tongue, Anastasia." I lifted a brow. "Is that a challenge?" "Isn't that what you want it to be?" he mused, heading upstairs carefully. "Why are you answering my question with a question?" I asked, suppressing a small smile as I leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against his lips before my mouth trailed down. Placing kisses along his jaw, then down his neck, I relished in the small groan he let out. I loved hearing him. "Is that what I'm doing?" he asked. I could practically hear his smirk. My teeth grazed his earlobe before I gently bit down as he pushed past my bedroom door. "You bite, Mia Cara," he teased, easing me down on the bed. A frustrated groan poured out of me as my back hit the mattress. "God, shut up and fuck me, Dante." My back arched off the bed as I lifted my hips, allowing him to slide my panties down my legs. Softly sighing, he leaned forward, bracing his arms on either side of me. "Always so eager," he said, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "Always in such a rush," he whispered, his lips brushing across my collarbone. "Patience, Anastasia," he told me, holding himself up as he met my gaze. A shaky breath left me as I stared back at him. We were way beyond denying ourselves what we craved. I realized after the night in my office that there was never just one time with Dante because he was like an aphrodisiac. Once I got a taste of him, I wanted it again, and I wanted more each time. Playing that game would only make everything harder for me, and I didn't enjoy denying my body what it wanted. However, one thing was very clear in my head: it was all just a game we liked to play. There were no emotions involved, none but carnal desire. Dante couldn't have my heart, I'd never give it to him because it was simply too big of a risk. "I like to take my time with you," he whispered, trailing his hand down my chest, between my breasts, along my stomach as I sucked in a breath, then stopping at my hips. Leisurely, his fingers traveled back up my side and around me, finding the clasp of my bra and unhooking it, teasing the straps down my shoulders. "I like going slow," he continued, "I like the way it makes you beg… the way it makes your body beg." My breath hitched as he stepped away and grabbed hold of my ankles, tugging me to the edge of the bed before dropping to his knees. "Your body begs to be worshiped," he whispered between kisses up my inner thigh. "I think it's time I found religion, don't you?" A loud moan was tugged out of me the first time he put his mouth on me, lifting my back off the bed while he kept my hips pinned in place. No matter how slow Dante went, no matter how long he teased and edged me for, it always felt like we didn't have enough time; he always left me wanting more of him than he was willing to give. His gentle and unrushed kisses grew fervent as he swiped his tongue over my clit, and before I knew it, I was coming undone before him. "Fuck," I gasped, holding as still as I could while he kissed his way up my body, both of us shifting higher up on the bed. Dante left slow, lazy kisses all over my body that night, doing everything slower than he normally would. That night, his actions did everything to match his words. He truly relished in taking his time with me, exploring every inch of my body, touching, tasting. Sitting upright, I reached for his shirt and shrugged it on, buttoning it just enough before getting out of bed just as the sound of the shower running reached my ears. Pausing for a moment, I lingered at the foot of my bed. It had been a week since Dante and I fell back into our old habits, and everything about it felt so… familiar. One part of me, a wary and cautious little voice in my head, was telling me to walk away while I still could, believing that this would end the same way it did a year ago: with Dante walking away from me and leaving me to collect all the scrambled pieces. Another part of me was curious and wished to see where things led us. But for the time being, I shut both voices down and stepped into the bathroom, stealing a peak where he stood in the shower. The water poured down on him while the lower half of the shower cabin kept everything hidden below his waist. As I leaned against the countertop, I couldn't help the way my eyes drifted to the scars on his back, traveling across each and every one. I'd always wondered if he would ever tell me how he got those but never had the courage to ask him myself. I was afraid questioning him would push him away. Sliding off the counter a few minutes later, when he stepped out, a towel secured around his waist, I stayed there in silence, watching him move around with such ease and familiarity in the place. Unlike the tension usually tightening his shoulders and lining his features, he looked like he felt comfortable in my home, laying his armor down for some time.