Dante. She called me Dante. 

I was still frozen in my position between her thighs, staring up at her as if the world had just stopped spinning. The sight of her innocent face looking back at me, her hair all mussed up, her lips swollen from my kisses, and her body flushed a pretty pink from pleasure— it should have been mine to claim, mine to take pride in. But right now, it felt like a betrayal.

My chest felt tight, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

Her brows were furrowed in ...