The Sound of Us

Chapter Twenty-One. “I Wanna Be Yours” by Arctic Monkeys

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“I Wanna Be Yours” by Arctic Monkeys

Skye

I want you.

I wanted a boy.

I need you.

Can we send her back?

Dante’s words sparked something inside me. I spun around to face him, my back up against the door.

“Skye…” His face was creased in pain, cheek bruised, temple bloodied.

“I can’t believe you would say what you said.” I slapped him, hard, across the face before he grabbed my hand and slammed it up against the door. Far from being alarmed, a thrill of excitement shot through my veins as his steel gaze held me in place. I wasn’t afraid of him, this broken, hurting man who had a protective streak a mile wide, because I was broken, too.

When his mouth slammed down on mine, all those feelings coalesced into liquid desire. Too much. Too intense. Light and dark. Hard and soft. Everything inside me embraced it, reckless and wild.

Dante grabbed my free hand and pinned it with the other over my head. My back arched to accommodate the stretch, my breasts pressing against his chest, sending a wave of heat through my body.

I heard a creak, the sound of footsteps, a howl, and then the first beats of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” filled the station.

“No one else is here. I have pre-recorded shows for emergencies,” Dante said in answer to my unspoken question.

“Is this an emergency?”

Dante parted my legs with his hard thigh and ground his hips against me, letting me feel the steel of his cock beneath his fly. “It is most definitely an emergency.” His mouth came down on mine again and I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but feel.

He was ruthless, relentless; hands, mouth, fingers everywhere. I sucked in a desperate breath, drawing in the scent of him. Sweat. Whiskey. Autumn leaves. It hit me in the belly, stirring something deep and dark that uncurled without warning.

I moaned my desire, and he spun me around, pushing me up against the cold, hard door. “This shirt…” His fingers trailed down my spine beneath the strings that kept it together. “Has been driving me crazy. Do you know what it does to a man to get a glimpse of something he shouldn’t see?” He unhooked my bra and slid his hand under my shirt to cup my right breast in his warm palm.

“So soft.” His rough fingers pinched my nipple, sending a shower of sparks through my veins.

Need sliced through me, hot knives of lust that threatened to consume everything that I was. Could I do this? Could I strip off everything and show him my scars in the light?

Dante squeezed and toyed with one breast and then the other until my nipples were hard, and I was aching with need. Using his weight to hold me in place against the door, he yanked open my jeans and slid his hand into my panties. His fingers grazed over my sensitive clit and then down to my center.

“You’re soaked.”

I shuddered when he slid a finger inside me. If I hadn’t had his weight, his heat and strength behind me, I might have collapsed from the sheer intensity of the sensation.

“Such a good girl.” His lips nudged my ear, his breath hot on my skin as he replaced one finger with two, moving them rhythmically until I was rocking against his palm for the friction I needed for release.

The whisper of cool air on my skin as he eased my jeans over my hips with his free hand yanked me back to my senses and the imminent exposure of my scars. What would it feel like to show him everything? To be enough just by being me? To be free of the fear and shame?

“I need to touch you, Dante.”

He released me and I spun to face him, wild hands tearing off his shirt, roaming over skin slicked from heat. I pressed my lips to the inked designs on his pecs and felt the steady rhythm of his heart beating in his chest.

“I want you.” I shifted my weight, unable to ease the ache between my thighs.

“I want you, too, but I want to do it right this time. You deserve more than basement rooms and closets and hallways.”

It was my out. I could end this now and he’d never see my scars. I wouldn’t have to deal with his revulsion or horror or sympathy or whatever was going to show on his face when I stripped myself bare. There would be no awkward silences. No pain in my heart. No regrets.

No Dante.

“This is right.” I kissed him hard, grinding my hips against his hard length. “I like you like this. I like the sense of danger. I like breaking the rules. I want to feel you lose control.”

I craved him—his smell, his taste, the power that rippled beneath his skin—with a primal hunger that wouldn’t be sated by soft blankets and clean sheets. I wanted to be taken, possessed. I didn’t want to be enough. I wanted to be everything.

“I can’t lose control.” His voice cracked, broke. “I don’t want to hurt you. Look what happened tonight.”

“You won’t hurt me.” I was so wet I wanted to sob. Empty and aching, my self-control hanging by a thread. “I won’t let you.”

His hands slid under my ass, and he lifted me to his hips, easily carrying me to the lounge with my legs wrapped around him. He shut the door and flicked on the light before pinning me against the wall.

“You want it like this?” He fisted my hair and tugged my head back.

My breath left me in a rush. “Yes.”

He yanked off my bra and shirt, powerful hands squeezing my breasts until everything inside me started to melt. I fell back against the wall when I felt the sharp edge of his teeth on my nipples and begged for more.

Dante lowered my feet to the floor and tugged my jeans over my hips. I grabbed his hand before he went too far.

“There’s something you need to know.” I swallowed hard, my body tensing. “My legs were crushed in the accident. The left one was injured so badly they basically had to rebuild it. I have… a lot of scars. Not just on my leg but all over my body. You wouldn’t have seen them in the dark.”

For a moment, there was only silence between us, and then he took my hand and pressed it over the ink on his shoulder. “I have scars, too.” He squeezed my hand, then pointed to various other places on his shoulders and arms that were covered by intricate designs. “I had them inked so I didn’t have to look at the constant reminder about how my dad preferred me to an ashtray.”

My heart squeezed in my chest as I traced over the circular designs that marked the places he’d touched. “You’ve turned them into something beautiful.”

He kneeled before me, trailing soft kisses over my belly and then down as he lowered my clothing over my hips. For a long moment—too long—he just looked at the V between my legs, his gaze burning into me until my clit throbbed, desperate for the attention of his talented mouth.

But his lips didn’t go where I wanted them to go. Instead, he worked his way down my damaged leg, kissing each and every scar. His tongue traced one mark, then the other, until my skin began to anticipate every gentle touch. He teased me with a rush of heat when his lips touched unbroken skin, and moments of longing when he kissed the long silvery lines and patches that had no nerves left to feel. So soft. So tender. So unlike the man who had pinned me to the door only moments ago.

A whirlwind of sensations exploded inside me. Except for my mom and the healthcare workers, no one had ever seen my scars. Not even me, because I’d stopped looking when the bandages came off. In my world of pretend, I was still whole.

My hands fisted against the wall, every muscle tensing as he trailed gentle kisses along my calf to the sensitive skin behind my knee. A sound escaped my lips. I didn’t know if it was arousal or fear.

Dante looked up, his eyes darkening with pleasure. “Do you know what I see?”

I shook my head, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear for the rush of blood in my ears.

“I see a survivor.” He kissed the delicate skin of my inner thigh, “I see courage. I see someone much stronger than me, someone who doesn’t hide.”

His words caught me off guard, and I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the physical heat of the room or what he was doing to my body.

“Open for me.” He nudged my legs apart, guiding me to lift my damaged leg to his shoulder before he spread me wide. His eyes heated as he studied me, his pleasure evident from his husky voice. “Good girl.”

A shockwave of arousal punched me in the gut, stealing my breath away. His praise washed over my body, the knowledge I’d pleased him sending a flush of heat through my veins. I tucked the curious reaction away to worry about later because the friction from the stubble on my inner thigh as he kissed his way to my center was about to unravel me on the spot.

His dark head moved closer until I could feel the heat of his breath on my clit. My hips tilted upward, my body seeking relief.

“Look at me, buttercup.”

He held my gaze as he licked over my clit, easing the sensation before opening his mouth around me. After only a few strokes of his tongue, my back arched and heat blossomed in my core. My knees buckled, but his hand shot out, pinning my thigh against his shoulder as he stroked me, his tongue doing wicked things that ripped a choked whimper from my throat.

He’d rocked my world in the storage room, but I’d never experienced anything as wild and intense as the way he took me in that moment. His heated gaze locked on mine as he spread me wider, filling me with two fingers and then three, building a fire inside me. In the background, over the speakers, his whiskey-smooth voice echoed around me while his real-life groans rumbled from his chest.

“Please.” I tugged on his hair, pulling him closer, letting him know with the rocking of my hips how close I was to release, how desperate I was to feel him where I ached the most. Finally, he closed his lips around my clit and sucked as he pulsed his fingers in a merciless rhythm.

My vision went white as every single nerve ending in my whole body fired at once. A massive tidal wave of pleasure crashed over me, battering my senses until the world dissolved around me.

After a second, I opened my eyes. Dante was on his feet, holding his fingers over my lips. “I want to watch you taste yourself.”

I managed a nod and he thrust his fingers into my mouth, humming in approval as I licked off my own salty-sweet desire. I’d never done anything that felt so decadent, dangerous, and filthy all at the same time.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” Dante leaned forward to kiss me, sweetly and slowly, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth until he had banked the fire inside me again.

“I need you inside me,” I murmured as I traced the curves and spirals of the ink on his shoulders. “If you don’t fuck me, I might have to slap you for real, and this time I won’t miss.”

He smiled down at me and ran a finger along my jawline. “Are you threatening me?”

The hint of warning in his eyes and the controlled power in his voice turned my body into liquid heat and a tremor of need shook my body.

“No. Yes. I just…” Words failed me as he shrugged off the rest of his clothes, his muscles rippling with power barely restrained.

I let my gaze roam boldly over his magnificent body as he retrieved a condom from his jeans and slid it over his thick, hard erection. He was perfectly built, all hard planes and angles, his skin slick with sweat and beautifully inked. I imagined licking my way down his body, over the rippling six-pack and along the V-shaped lines of his pelvis to the intimidating length below.

“Walk over to the bulletin board and turn to face it,” he said, his voice low and full of gravel.

Heart pounding with excitement, I did as he asked, resting my cheek against the cool cork surface. Dante came up behind me and drew my hands above my head.

“I want you like this,” he murmured in my ear. “I want to fuck you in exactly the same position you were in when we were down in the basement and you were reaching for the box. You looked so damn sexy. Your shirt had ridden up. I could see your back, the curve of your waist, and this beautiful ass, just begging to be touched.” He squeezed my rear, ripping a soft moan from my lips. “I wanted you so fucking bad…” He kicked my legs roughly apart. “I’ve fantasized about fucking you like this every night, buttercup. Every. Fucking. Night.”

He brushed my hair aside and kissed my nape, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. He followed that shiver with his lips, feathering kisses down my back until he reached the cleft of my ass. I tensed in wary anticipation of him going somewhere I wasn’t ready for him to go.

“Maybe another time.” He pressed a kiss to each cheek. “There’s too much I want to do with you tonight.”

He stroked between my legs with one hand while he pinched my nipples with the other, stoking my need again until I was writhing against him. His erection rubbed against my cleft and a frantic ache pulsed between my legs. Once wasn’t enough.

“Dante…”

“I got you.” He thrust into me in one hard, singular motion, digging his fingers into my hip with one hand, while he held me secure with the other.

I didn’t know what turned me on the most—the fact that he wanted me in that moment, or that he’d fantasized about me at night when I’d been fantasizing about him.

“Don’t stop…” I rocked against him, driving up on my toes and back again. I was desperate, aching to have him completely, hard and raw and wild.

With a shuddered breath, he pulled back and pushed fully inside. He was everywhere. His voice from the speakers surrounding me. His groans vibrating against my back. His hands on my skin, his breath hot on my neck, his cock filling me with every hard thrust.

He took me roughly, slamming into me, pushing me toward orgasm in a way I’d never felt before. My hands fisted against the corkboard as the pressure inside me grew and my lower half started to tighten. When I cried out, he pushed deeper, hitting the sensitive spot inside me while his fingers brushed over my clit in a move perfectly timed to send me straight over the edge.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” I let out a guttural groan as everything spun out of control. Pleasure exploded inside me, a firestorm of sheer sensation that streamed through my body electrifying every nerve ending until I came apart at the seams.

“Skye. Fuck.” Dante pounded into me deep and hard, until finally his body went rigid and he came in a rush of white-hot heat.

I fell forward, resting my forehead on the corkboard while my body shook with the aftershocks of Dante’s raw and wild fantasy sex. Bracing himself with one hand on the wall, Dante sagged against me, heaving his breaths.

“Are you okay?” He eased out of me and turned me around for a gentle kiss.

“More than okay. That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me, too.” He quickly disposed of the condom, wrapping it in paper towels before tossing it in the trash. When he returned, he swept me up in his arms and carried me to the couch.

“Shouldn’t we get dressed in case someone comes? Noah…”

“Isn’t coming.” He threw a blanket over the cool leather and stretched out, patting the space beside him. “Cuddle time.”

“I heard a rumor that you didn’t do cuddles.” I grabbed another blanket and spread it over us as I lay down beside him. “I heard you were a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy.”

“I never met anyone I wanted to cuddle with.” He kissed the pads of my fingers one by one and then found my mouth, drawing out my desire with long, deep strokes of his tongue. “I also never told anyone about my scars except for Noah. He’s the one who suggested the tattoos. He said it could be a fresh start. I believed him until I realized the old me was still there, lurking in the shadows.”

“They’re beautiful.” I traced the intricate designs with my fingers, treble and bass clefs and staffs with musical notes. “Do those notes represent anything?”

“Songs my mother used to sing.” He covered my hand with his. “I was twelve years old when she died. The birds are for my sister, Sasha. She loved to listen to them sing outside her bedroom window. I lost her four years after my mom. Now she’s free to fly with them.”

“Dante…” Emotion welled up in my throat. “I’m so sorry. It was hard losing my dad, but I can’t imagine how it must have been for you to lose both of them, and you were so young…”

He stiffened and his jaw went taut. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I understand. But if you ever do, I would love to hear about them.” I put my arm around him and we held each other in the quiet of the night.

“My mother would be horrified if I came home with my leg all inked up,” I said lightly, hoping to pull Dante back from the shadows that clouded his face. “She would think I’d turned to the dark side.”

“You have turned to the dark side.” He ran his fingers through my hair, smoothing it out over my shoulders. “You’ve seduced a poor radio station DJ during his show. Tomorrow, you’ll probably pretend it never even happened.”

“I thought that was your modus operandi.”

“I can’t pretend this didn’t happen,” Dante said, tracing patterns on my shoulder. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. I’m not good at letting people in, but you snuck through my defenses when I wasn’t looking.”

“Sneak attack,” I said, trying again to lighten the mood. “Kinda what you did to me. I never would have imagined letting someone see my leg, much less touch my scars. But then I would never have imagined having sex with a tattooed bad boy in a radio station to Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller.’ You’ve definitely ruined me for other men.”

“And I’ve shared one of my deep dark secrets. That means there can be no other men.” He tucked me against his body, my head resting on his chest where I could hear the steady beat of his heart.

“Do you see me complaining?” I slid my hand over his abdomen and down under the blanket. He was hard again, and his cock swelled in my grasp. The idea that I could arouse him sent a shimmer of triumph through my body.

“I see you want to be fucked again.” His hand slid down my back, fingers digging into my ass. “If I time it right, you’ll be screaming to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody,’ one of my top-ten songs of all time.”

“Let me up.” I tried to pull away but only succeeded in sliding against his erection. “I can’t have sex with you now. That’s like saying The Avengers is one of the best movies in the world. I can’t…” I gave a dramatic wave. “I just can’t.”

“You should have thought of that before you decide to tempt me again.” He twisted his hips, dropping me to the couch so I was lying beneath him. “Now, I have to do something about it. But this time, I’m going to go slow. I’m going to kiss every inch of your body and every single scar. I’m going to make you so hot and so wet you’ll agree that ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is the greatest rock song of all time.” He leaned down to take my nipple in his mouth, licking and stroking until I was writhing beneath him.

“Will I also be so hot and so wet that you’ll make me come many times and fuck me into oblivion?”

Dante released my nipple and slid his hand down to cup me between the legs. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

His words should have sounded patronizing but instead a wave of heat flushed through my body. This time instead of worrying about why it turned me on, or what it said about me, I focused on how it made me feel. Hot. Wet. Sexy. Safe. Accepted. Complete.

Something that made me feel this good couldn’t be bad. And besides, we had passed the point of no return. I wanted to drown in the blissful feeling of his praise. I needed to hear it with a soul-deep longing that went into my bones.

“Yes,” I said, rocking against the heel of his palm as the first words of Dante’s favorite song played over the speakers. “I’ll be the best girl ever.”