Chapter 155

His breath scorched my throat as his lips dragged lower, desperate, frantic, as though every kiss was a prayer, every bite a vow.

His hands slid down, gripping the hem of his own shirt that clung damply to me.

With one harsh pull, he tore it open, the fabric splitting with a sound that jolted something deep inside me.

“Dante—” I gasped, half protest, half plea.

“Mine,” he growled against my skin,