leaked from my core and I pressed my thighs together to
alleviate the ache.
“Naughty girl,” Dante purred into my ear. “What are you
thinking about?”
I shivered at the tone of his voice, at the prickling
stubble against my cheek. God, he could smell that I was turned-on. So not
fair.
I trailed my hand down the rigid definition of his
eight-pack, caressing hard, hot muscles barely contained under his tanned skin.
I leaned into him and pressed my breasts to his chest. I slid my palms over his
shoulders and gripped him tight.
“I’m thinking,” I whispered and fought my grin, “about your
nuts.” I lifted my leg to knee him in the groin.
Deep, rumbling laughter rang out and Dante batted my knee to
the side. He grinned down at me as we circled each other. “Careful, darlin’.
You might not want to injure that.”
I pouted, feigned right and punched his rock-hard stomach.
“Can’t handle a little love tap?”
“Oh, I can handle it,” Dante taunted, caught my arm and yanked.
I slammed into his body and grabbed his hip for balance. Lust darkened the
color of his eyes. “Question is, babe, can you?”
I slid my hand over and around, settling my palm on his
tight, firm ass. “Bring it on.”
“Break it up, you two,” Micah said.
Dante and I stepped away from one other with matching grins.
Micah shook his head but kept speaking, “If an attacker
grabs both arms, get to one side to avoid his head then kick or knee him in the
groin and/or legs until he loosens his grip. Then step in, aiming for the VAs.”
Dante demonstrated by wrapping a hand around each arm and
pulling me close. Our breaths mingled and I tasted mint on his every exhale. I
concentrated on each movement, on the instruction and reciprocated by kicking
his shin. When he dipped, I tapped his throat in a would-be chop if I’d been
serious.
“Very good,” Dante praised and my stomach, already all
fluttery, turned liquid.
We went through a few more scenarios—what to do if an
attacker grabbed me by the shirt, what do if my attacker was at my side and
grabbed my shoulder—with Micah instructing, Dante attacking and me defending.
The places Dante had grabbed throbbed with heat, little remembered pulses of
sensation. Sweat glistened off his chest and I had the strangest urge to lick him
clean.
Dante circled around me, a predator after its prey. My
nipples were tight little beads against my top. I waited, lip between my teeth,
for him to attack. His otherness surrounded me, and I basked in the way it invaded
my skin and burrowed deep. Too quick to see, he stopped behind me and pulled on
my ponytail, forcing my head back.
I sucked in a sharp breath, not out of fear, but out of pure
want. Little pinpricks of pain ran from scalp to my belly, and then lower to
make my knees wobble. Dante’s hot, moist breath caressed my ear. Against my
ass, the hard ridge of his cock teased. I closed my eyes and absorbed every
sensation.
“My girl likes it rough, doesn’t she?” he whispered and I
swear I could have come right there if he’d kept at it.
“Come on, Hannah! You gonna let him talk to you like that?”
Micah asked.
His voice snapped me out of my sexual haze and I fought
back. My struggles, mostly me rubbing against Dante’s body, were half-assed and
weak. Where I tried to duck, he countered by readjusting his hold and oh-so
casually brushing my breasts with his arm. I gritted my teeth and grabbed him
back, my fingers digging into his thick forearm. He pressed tighter and nipped
the back of my neck with his teeth. My pussy pulsed.
“Fight like you mean it!” Micah yelled.
Right. Using more strength, I dipped down and pivoted until
I faced Dante. I kicked his leg—he blocked and gave me a cocky grin that sent
him off-the-charts sexy.
“Come on, Hannah,” Dante purred. “I thought you said you
could handle it?”
I narrowed my eyes. Focused. Hard to do considering how my
heartbeat hammered between my legs. We separated for only a
alleviate the ache.
“Naughty girl,” Dante purred into my ear. “What are you
thinking about?”
I shivered at the tone of his voice, at the prickling
stubble against my cheek. God, he could smell that I was turned-on. So not
fair.
I trailed my hand down the rigid definition of his
eight-pack, caressing hard, hot muscles barely contained under his tanned skin.
I leaned into him and pressed my breasts to his chest. I slid my palms over his
shoulders and gripped him tight.
“I’m thinking,” I whispered and fought my grin, “about your
nuts.” I lifted my leg to knee him in the groin.
Deep, rumbling laughter rang out and Dante batted my knee to
the side. He grinned down at me as we circled each other. “Careful, darlin’.
You might not want to injure that.”
I pouted, feigned right and punched his rock-hard stomach.
“Can’t handle a little love tap?”
“Oh, I can handle it,” Dante taunted, caught my arm and yanked.
I slammed into his body and grabbed his hip for balance. Lust darkened the
color of his eyes. “Question is, babe, can you?”
I slid my hand over and around, settling my palm on his
tight, firm ass. “Bring it on.”
“Break it up, you two,” Micah said.
Dante and I stepped away from one other with matching grins.
Micah shook his head but kept speaking, “If an attacker
grabs both arms, get to one side to avoid his head then kick or knee him in the
groin and/or legs until he loosens his grip. Then step in, aiming for the VAs.”
Dante demonstrated by wrapping a hand around each arm and
pulling me close. Our breaths mingled and I tasted mint on his every exhale. I
concentrated on each movement, on the instruction and reciprocated by kicking
his shin. When he dipped, I tapped his throat in a would-be chop if I’d been
serious.
“Very good,” Dante praised and my stomach, already all
fluttery, turned liquid.
We went through a few more scenarios—what to do if an
attacker grabbed me by the shirt, what do if my attacker was at my side and
grabbed my shoulder—with Micah instructing, Dante attacking and me defending.
The places Dante had grabbed throbbed with heat, little remembered pulses of
sensation. Sweat glistened off his chest and I had the strangest urge to lick him
clean.
Dante circled around me, a predator after its prey. My
nipples were tight little beads against my top. I waited, lip between my teeth,
for him to attack. His otherness surrounded me, and I basked in the way it invaded
my skin and burrowed deep. Too quick to see, he stopped behind me and pulled on
my ponytail, forcing my head back.
I sucked in a sharp breath, not out of fear, but out of pure
want. Little pinpricks of pain ran from scalp to my belly, and then lower to
make my knees wobble. Dante’s hot, moist breath caressed my ear. Against my
ass, the hard ridge of his cock teased. I closed my eyes and absorbed every
sensation.
“My girl likes it rough, doesn’t she?” he whispered and I
swear I could have come right there if he’d kept at it.
“Come on, Hannah! You gonna let him talk to you like that?”
Micah asked.
His voice snapped me out of my sexual haze and I fought
back. My struggles, mostly me rubbing against Dante’s body, were half-assed and
weak. Where I tried to duck, he countered by readjusting his hold and oh-so
casually brushing my breasts with his arm. I gritted my teeth and grabbed him
back, my fingers digging into his thick forearm. He pressed tighter and nipped
the back of my neck with his teeth. My pussy pulsed.
“Fight like you mean it!” Micah yelled.
Right. Using more strength, I dipped down and pivoted until
I faced Dante. I kicked his leg—he blocked and gave me a cocky grin that sent
him off-the-charts sexy.
“Come on, Hannah,” Dante purred. “I thought you said you
could handle it?”
I narrowed my eyes. Focused. Hard to do considering how my
heartbeat hammered between my legs. We separated for only a
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