Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 30: Chapter 30

DANTE
She ran ahead, her laughter rose into the air, music only I could hear.
The wind spun through her hair, golden strands glinting in the last stretch of daylight.
She moved as if she belonged to this place. Or maybe it belonged to her.
The sunlight caught her eyes when she turned, and they glowed like liquid amber.
My chest ached.
Every piece of her, her joy, her ease, the way she opened up without even knowing it, hit me like a tidal wave I hadn’t braced for.
Her joy sparked something buried in me.
Flashes of another time.
My mother’s laugh. The way it lit up my father’s face.
Love had made him whole. And then it had broken him.
I had spent most of my life swearing I’d never let that happen to me.
But here I was, feeling something I couldn’t name.
Not quite love.
But it was dangerously close.
Close enough to make me want it and fear it in the same breath.
I couldn’t resist her pull.
I didn’t even try.
The space between us shrank with every step I took.
The world quieted around me, until all I heard was the hush of waves and the soft rush of wind.
She turned toward me, and my breath synced with hers.
I stopped in front of her, close enough to feel her warmth.
Close enough to see her lashes flutter when she looked up at me, pure joy radiating from her.
I reached for her, my hand finding her face.
My fingers trembled slightly as I brushed my thumb along her cheek.
Her skin was soft, sun-warmed silk beneath my touch.
"Marisol," I said, my voice barely there. "You have no idea what you do to me."
She didn’t speak.
Just leaned into my hand like she needed the contact as much as I did.
Everything inside me pulled toward her.
I leaned in, slow, the space between our mouths charged with something raw and real.
I could feel her breath, warm and sweet, brushing mine.
The wait nearly undid me.
It was exquisite torture.
And then I kissed her.
Her lips met mine, soft but hungry.
All the emotion I hadn’t meant to feel surged through me.
I poured it into her.
My need. My fear. My want.
Every part of me that had sworn to stay untouched by love unraveled in that kiss.
She melted into me, her arms sliding around my neck, hands clutching at my shirt like she couldn’t get close enough.
Time slowed.
The world narrowed to this.
Us.
I deepened the kiss, instinct taking over.
Her taste was pure intoxication, sweet and uniquely her.
My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.
I needed her closer.
Needed to make her feel what I felt.
Because if I said it out loud, it might shatter me.
I kissed her like I didn’t know how to stop.
When we finally came up for air, our foreheads touched, breaths ragged.
Her eyes found mine, soft and open, and something in me cracked.
I had never felt more exposed.
But I didn’t want to run.
Not from her.
The wind shifted, soft against our skin, lifting the edges of her hair.
She looked like something out of a dream, something fragile and fierce at once.
My arms still tingled from where she’d touched me.
My mouth still ached with the press of her lips.
I didn’t want to let go.
Not yet.
"You okay?" I asked, keeping my voice low, not wanting to break whatever spell we were wrapped in.
She nodded, but didn’t speak.
Her eyes were still on mine, deep and unreadable.
In that silence, a thousand thoughts rushed in.
I remembered the first time I saw her, defiant, sharp, angry.
And now this.
This softness she showed me, like she’d set her armor down at my feet.
Like she trusted me to handle her heart with care.
The weight of that trust was no small thing.
It curled around my chest and squeezed until I could barely breathe.
I was known for control.
Discipline.
Power.
But none of it mattered when she looked at me like this.
This wasn’t just a kiss.
It was a beginning.
A test.
A shift I hadn’t planned for.
I wouldn’t call it love.
I couldn’t.
But whatever this was, whatever it became, I would hold the line.
I would give her everything I could, everything but that.
The sun dipped behind the sea, shadows stretching long across the beach.
A breeze lifted off the water, cool and insistent.
I found her hand again, the connection natural, like I was made to find her in the dark.
Without speaking, we started back toward the villa, walking slowly.
The air between us was different now.
Heavier.
Charged.
She didn’t laugh this time.
She just looked at me like I’d changed in her eyes.
And maybe I had.
Her fingers tightened in mine, her gaze steady.
I felt it.
The shift.
Quiet, seismic, certain.
The villa loomed ahead, golden light spilling from the windows.
But the real heat lived between us.
Each step tightened the air in my lungs.
My chest pulled taut, like my body already knew this night would change everything.
As we approached the villa, the soft glow from the interior lights cast a warm, golden wash onto the sand.
With every step, tension coiled tighter in my chest.
Marisol walked beside me, her hand light in mine.
Earlier today, the need to claim her had burned so hot it blurred everything else.
Every glance, every accidental touch, had tested my control.
But now, seeing her like this, unguarded and open, everything shifted.
That need didn’t vanish.
It deepened into something measured.
Something tender.
She didn’t know what was waiting for her inside.
Not the way I planned to give it.
Not the way I wanted her to feel it.
She doesn’t know how much I need this to be right.
For her.
For us.
The thought of her, so new to this, so trusting, stirred something deeper.
Something softer.
This night had to be more than desire.
It had to be gentle.
Meaningful.
Everything she deserved.
I wouldn’t let my hunger take the lead.
I wouldn’t rush her.
I’d make sure every touch, every breath, was something she could lean into without fear.
With other women, it had always been easier.
Pleasure, yes, but without the gravity that came with Marisol.
This wasn’t about release.
It was about her.
Her softness.
Her trust.
Her everything.
And it terrified me.
Because for the first time, I didn’t want to take.
I wanted to give.
But keeping my distance?
That felt impossible too.
Inside the villa, I drew a breath and tried to shake it off.
The room greeted us with the scent of tropical flowers, sea salt, and candle wax.
Warm light flickered across the space, casting long shadows on the floors.
It should have settled something in me.
I led her deeper inside, guiding her toward the table I’d asked them to prepare.
Fresh fruit, chilled champagne, delicate little dishes arranged like art.
I felt her behind me, close and quiet.
I didn’t have to look to hear the catch in her breath.
Soft, sharp, like she was holding something back.
I turned and caught her expression, wide-eyed wonder layered with something else.
Nerves.
Maybe even fear.
I softened my tone and smiled.
"I thought we could enjoy a little something before the night takes us further."