Even though he gave a small nod, Dante still didn’t move from where he half-knelt on the bed in front of her. The muscles in his shoulders tightened, his breath slow but deliberate. He stayed there, hovering over her like a shadow that refused to break away.

Isadora leaned back instinctively, the edge of the bed dipping beneath her weight, as though some part of her wanted to create space between them.

But she couldn’t look away. The air between them was alive—charged, heavy, and trembling with words that neither of them seemed ready to say.

Silence lingered until Dante’s voice cut through it—low, steady, yet holding something rough at the edges.

"Do you want me to take off your shirt," he asked quietly, "or will you?"

The sound of his question made her pulse stumble. Her lashes fluttered, and she nodded—once, quickly—before lowering her gaze to her own trembling fingers. She began to undo the buttons of her shirt, one after another, though each one felt like a mountain to climb.

He’s seen you before, she reminded herself desperately. There’s nothing to be nervous about.

But her hands still shook. Her breath came short, uneven. The air was too warm; the space between them too small.

She was barely through the third button when she felt Dante move closer. The mattress shifted beneath his weight, and suddenly his face was only inches from hers. She could feel his breath ghosting across her cheek, warm and steady, and the sensation sent a shiver racing through her.

His hands moved—slowly, deliberately—until they covered hers. Without a word, he continued what she had stopped, unfastening the remaining buttons one by one. He never looked down. His gaze stayed fixed on her face, his expression composed but his eyes burning with an intensity that made her chest tighten.

When the last button came undone, her shirt fell open slightly. Her instinct was to draw it closed again, but she froze when she realized he still wasn’t looking—still watching only her. And yet, when his hands slid lower to her waistband she felt her breath catch all the same.

Her fists clenched against the sheets. She couldn’t make herself move, couldn’t speak—not when his nearness filled her entire world. Her eyes fluttered shut, uncertain whether to retreat or surrender.

Then—softly, unexpectedly—his lips brushed hers.

For a heartbeat she didn’t understand what had happened. Her eyes opened wide in shock, her thoughts scattering like shards of glass. Dante’s lips were still there, still pressed against hers—firm but controlled, a warmth that spread like fire across her skin.

The sound of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, until his mouth began to move—slowly, gently—urging her to respond. The world blurred into the faint rhythm.

He tasted bitter sweet , and something in that mix made her tremble. Every press of his lips drew her deeper into that warmth until she no longer knew where to retreat. When he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, she felt a rush of heat pulse through her body so sudden that she had to clutch the sheets to steady herself.

Her thoughts scattered again. Her heart was too loud, too wild. She couldn’t stop it; she didn’t want to.

He kissed her harder, until she could barely draw breath. The world tilted as he pushed her gently back onto the bed, the soft press of his body covering hers the next moment. His weight was solid, his warmth seeping into her until she couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. His hand slipped behind her head, steadying her, holding her there as if afraid she might disappear.

The kiss deepened, grew fiercer, every second unraveling what little control she had left. His breath mingled with hers, their rhythm uneven, wild.

"Just do what I do," he whispered against her lips, the sound half-command, half-promise.

Isadora tried to follow, her heart pounding so loud it drowned out thought. Heat spread through her like wildfire, sinking into her veins until she couldn’t tell whether the trembling came from fear or something far more dangerous.

Then the movement of his hands changed—quicker, more certain—and she felt the faint rush of air as fabric gave way. The sudden closeness made her pulse stumble. Her body responded before her mind could catch up, tension and longing tangled in every breath she took.

His hands found her back, steady and sure, his touch practiced yet reverent. The realization made her heart tremble even harder. Through it all, his lips never left hers; he kissed her like someone who knew exactly how to steal a heartbeat and give it back again.

She was dizzy, lost somewhere between wanting to stop and wanting the moment to never end. Words formed in her mind but died before reaching her lips. The only sound that escaped was her uneven breathing.

Heat rolled off him in waves. He was half-dressed, but that was enough—more than enough—to make her aware of every inch of him. The strength beneath the restraint. The quiet danger of it.

I’m not ... The thought flickered and vanished, unfinished, swallowed by the rush of sensation.

His hand moved again, tracing the line of her back and lower, a slow glide that sent shivers chasing up her spine.

His hands on her back as he unhooked her bra with swiftness that showed miles of experience.

His lips still against hers even as she felt his muscular thick thighs between her legs.

It was a lot to take in and at every moment Isadora wanted to push him away and tell him to slow down but she couldn’t even speak as she felt him continue to kiss her.

Her cheeks tinged red as she felt the heat from his body. He was half naked but he still had his pants on something she was thankful for.

’I’m not sure I can-’ she thought unable to finish the though even if she wanted to as she felt Dante’s hands slowly glide across her back and away l her belly as he slowly began to take off her bra.

In a way that bared her entire breasts and chest.

Isadora wanted to pull away but she couldn’t my even as she felt the warm feel of his hands against hers even breasts sliding right across her nipples in a way that sent streaks of electricity right through her core.

Slowly she was gasping for breath even as she felt him pull his head away from her pausing the kiss they shared.

Isadora raised her gaze to meet his face only to realize that his gaze was lowered down to her naked breasts.

His eyes focused there in a way that made her reddened lips tremble.

Her lips parted, trembling with words she couldn’t find. Heat flooded her cheeks, her body reacting faster than her mind could think. Instinct made her lift her hands, seeking to shield herself from the weight of that gaze, but he caught them gently, his fingers lacing through hers.

He drew her arms upward, pinning them softly above her head, not with force but with quiet certainty. The movement left her breathless, the faint tremor of his touch sending ripples through her.

When he leaned closer, she felt his breath trace her skin before his lips did. His mouth followed a slow, deliberate path from the curve of her neck downward, each kiss deliberate—so light it made her ache, so slow it made her dizzy.

His mouth leaving trails of kisses from her neck to her chest and all the way to her breasts in a way that had her gasping for breath.

His hand pressing her hands above her head in a way that made it impossible for her to move them even as she felt his lips around her chest his teeth sliding against the red nubs of her chest in a way that made her suck air in as she gasped writhing her legs only to freeze as she felt his his own legs between her thighs.

It only made her breathing heavier as she felt him lick her carefully in a way that brought tears into her eyes only to feel his hands between her legs tugging at her pants.

Unconsciously she writhed harder than usual even as her entire body heat up as she felt him discard her pants until she was completely naked.

Recalling the size of him that she had seen and what she knew was between her legs she couldn’t my help it as she opened her mouth to speak.

"I-I don’t think I’m—" unable to finish her words as she felt him move his leg under her just before she felt his fingers right against her center which was wetter that it usually was.

Gasping as she moved her legs only to feel him press his fingers sliding them back and forth in a at that made her back arch in pleasure as she gasped having never felt such intensity of pleasure in her life.

Moments later nothing else mattered but what she felt between her legs as she urged him to continue.