Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

MARISOL
When his fingers gently parted my folds and glided over my dampness, a sharp spark of pleasure made me jolt.
I was slick with want.
My thighs instinctively closed around his hand.
He stilled, his voice soft and steady.
“Breathe, baby. Let me in.”
I hesitated, pulse fluttering, then exhaled slowly and let my knees fall open.
He resumed his touch, slow and rhythmic, his fingers circling my nub in lazy spirals that sent my hips rising from the bed.
Each stroke built hotter than the last.
I’d never made myself feel like this. Not even close.
This was deeper. Slower. More intense. Like he knew exactly how to unravel me one touch at a time. Like he wanted the journey, not just the end.
My legs trembled with the desire building under his touch.
His finger dipped inside me, easing in with gentle precision.
When he added a second, I gasped, full, stretched, aching in a way that only made me crave more.
He moved with care, curling his fingers just right, pressing into places that made stars burst behind my eyes.
When he found that spot, my hips jerked.
Then rocked.
It wasn’t a choice, just instinct.
My body chased the sensation without waiting for permission.
How is he doing this? He’s commanding my body with just a touch.
My breath turned ragged, my thighs trembling.
He watched me like he was memorizing every sound I made, every twitch, every gasp.
Like this meant something to him.
His touch never faltered.
His thumb brushed over my clit again, and a tremor ripped through me.
My eyes flew open, and I met his gaze.
Intense.
Locked in.
His pupils blown wide with desire.
“Dante…” My voice trembled, the rush of it all making fear flutter inside me.
I was close. Too close.
And it scared me.
Before, it had only ever been a flicker of release.
This was bigger. Sharper. A wave rising so high I couldn’t see the shore.
He didn’t look away.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m right here. Let go, baby.”
Those words cracked something open in me.
I nodded.
I gave in.
Let the sensations take me.
Let him take me.
The pressure kept building, higher and hotter, until I couldn’t hold it anymore.
One last press of his fingers sent me over the edge.
The orgasm slammed into me.
My body arched, and cries spilled from my mouth, one after another, as the pleasure tore through me, raw and unrelenting.
He stayed with me through it, never pulling away.
His touch softened but never left me, slow and gentle as the waves began to ebb.
He stroked me through every last ripple, steady and quiet, grounding me in his hands.
When my breathing finally slowed, he leaned over me and kissed my forehead.
Then my temple.
My cheek.
The corner of my mouth.
He kissed me like he couldn’t stop.
Like he needed to touch every part of me just to make sure I was real.
When he finally pulled back, I stayed close, breath shallow, eyes fluttering shut for a second, just enough to feel the calm ripple through me.
But his gaze stayed on mine, steady and unreadable, and when I opened my eyes again, he hadn’t moved.
Still watching.
Still holding on.
MARISOL
Dante held my gaze, steady and unreadable, though something softer flickered beneath the surface.
Yes, I saw the satisfaction in his eyes.
But what caught me off guard was the tenderness.
He rose to his feet slowly, his movements deliberate.
I couldn’t look away, my breath stalling as he began unbuttoning his pants.
When they slid down his legs, and he stood fully exposed before me, my eyes widened.
My pulse kicked up at the sight of him.
"Marisol," he murmured, his knuckles grazing my cheek. "Are you ready for me?"
My heart pounded.
I hesitated.
The weight of what this meant hung heavy in my chest.
Still, I nodded, exhaling shakily.
"Yes... I think so."
His eyes searched mine, warm and serious.
"I’ll be as gentle as I can."
Fear tightened in my throat, but the way he said it, the softness in his voice, the patience in his eyes, it grounded me.
"I trust you," I whispered, my fingers finding his cheek.
His kiss came unexpectedly tender, stealing the breath from my lungs.
His lips brushed mine.
"If you need me to stop, just say so," he said, the words a promise. "We’ll go slow."
I nodded again, more sure of it this time.
He reached for the nightstand, retrieved a condom, and slipped it on.
When he turned back to me, I knew he saw the tension I couldn’t hide.
My breath shuddered.
He was bigger than I’d imagined.
Panic flared in my chest, but I swallowed it down.
I could do this.
He leaned in and kissed me, so gently it made my chest ache.
A flicker of nervousness still fluttered inside me, but his touch steadied me.
I watched as he moved between my thighs, his hands settling on my hips.
His skin radiated heat, slick and warm.
I breathed him in, the clean salt of the ocean still clinging to him, sharp and familiar.
His warmth, his scent, the closeness of him… it made my body buzz.
He guided my legs open, his body aligning with mine.
The head of his cock brushed against my folds, teasing, unhurried.
My breath caught.
Each stroke sent ripples of sensation through me, his touch circling my entrance with maddening precision.
A soft sound escaped me.
"Dante..."
I arched toward him, needing more.
Needing him.
He responded, guiding my hips, pressing forward.
He entered me inch by inch.
The initial stretch stole my breath.
I whimpered, the pressure sharp and unfamiliar.
My thighs tightened around him, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He stilled, jaw clenched, whispering kisses across my temple.
"Breathe, baby. Let me in."
I closed my eyes and exhaled.
My body began to yield.
He moved again, slower now, testing, easing.
When he reached my barrier, he stopped.
Then eased out, pressed forward again.
Each motion nudged a little deeper, awakening both ache and warmth.
He gave a single, firm thrust when he sensed I was ready.
The sting cut through me, sharp and unrelenting.
A sob tore from my throat.
Tears welled.
My body clenched around him, trying to reject the fullness.
He didn’t move.
His hands soothed.
"I’m sorry, baby. The pain will pass. I promise."
I trembled beneath him, every breath shallow.
And then, slowly, I began to adjust.
He stayed pressed against me, anchored there, letting me catch up.
He rested his forehead to mine, groaning softly.
There was something raw in his touch now.
Reverent.
Fierce.
Every muscle in him trembled with restraint.
I could feel it.
He ached to move, but he waited.
His thumbs traced gentle circles on my hips, whisper-soft.
"Is it better?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
The pain dulled, pleasure stirring beneath it.
The stretch remained, but now it throbbed with possibility.
He withdrew slightly, then eased forward again.
I gasped.
This time, the sensation sparked something deeper.
My hips moved with his, instinctive.
"Oh..." I exhaled, surprised at the rush of need.
He smiled, slow and knowing.
"I know. I want you to feel every inch of me."
His hips rolled, each thrust building heat and desire, slow and steady.
"You're so tight," he groaned, voice thick with restraint. "I can't get enough of you."
My head tipped back as a sound escaped me, raw and unfiltered.
The fear had vanished, replaced by hunger that shook through me.
He moved with reverent patience, his rhythm coaxing pleasure to rise.
My soft moans turned needy, each thrust unraveling me more.
His hands guided me, taught me how to match him.
We moved together, locked in rhythm, our bodies speaking a language I didn’t know I remembered.
I clung to him as waves crested inside me, one after the other.
"Dante, please... don’t stop."
He drove into me, deeper, harder, until all I could do was hold on.
Every movement drove us closer to that edge.
He reached down, his thumb finding the swollen bud of nerves between my legs.
A jolt shot through me.
My body clenched around him, involuntary.
Tension coiled deep.
I was close.
So close.
I shattered with a cry, waves of ecstasy rushing through me.
My limbs trembled.
I melted into him, completely undone.
Dante followed with a groan, thrusting deep as his release overtook him.
We stilled, caught in the intensity, the silence broken only by our breath.
He brushed hair from my forehead, his fingers lingering.
I saw it in his eyes, the wonder, the reverence.
We stayed tangled, bodies slick with sweat, breath slowly steadying.
He tucked the covers around me, cupped my cheek.
"You're perfect," he whispered, the words barely audible, like a secret.
I smiled, but something inside me trembled.
Vulnerability opened in me like a wound.
I turned into his chest.
"I never thought I'd feel safe like this. Thank you, Dante... for showing me it's possible."
He stiffened slightly.
"What do you mean?"
My fingers traced the lines of his chest.
"I thought my first time would be taken, not given. Violent. But you made me feel safe."
Our eyes met.
Tears blurred my vision.
"I didn’t know it could be like this."
His expression faltered.
I couldn’t name it, but it hit something deep.
He kissed my forehead, his voice rough.
"You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’ll keep you safe. No matter what."
I smiled again, softer this time.
"I believe you."
Sleep tugged at me, and I let it, lulled by his warmth.
His arms wrapped around me, steady and sure.
I sank into the safety of him, the promise of this moment.
But even as my eyes fluttered shut, I felt his gaze, steady and unrelenting.
It was like he wasn’t ready to let go of this either.
And finally, I let go.