In The Hand Of Dante Book の小説・ストーリー

Hands were everywhere around him, touching, carressing every inch of him. Dante gave a satisfied sigh and sank carefully into a chair behind him. Fingers undid the top two buttons of his shirt and slid in as he relaxed and gave a sigh of contentment. He put his hands on either side of him, feeling them up. As I watched, his hands crept higher, dipping into the waistband of the shorts they wore. The two ladies moaned. Whether it was real or faked, I could not tell. His hands travelled higher. With a deft movement, he flicked open their blouses, exposing breasts covered in filmy brightly colored bras that barely concealed anything. One of the girls lowered herself into his lap and sat astride

Arya Santanu's breathing was so heavy, the vapor of her breath had a very hot temperature. "Die ...." Arya Santanu moved very quickly. With one hand, the young man grabbed one of the bandit's faces. Slowly his hand turned into a demonic hand. Hot steam emerged from the cracks in his hand. The demon hand looked like flowing lava. And the lava came from his blood that changed shape. ARGH!!!

Someone he saw. He pulled me gently into his arms, one hand resting on my waist, the other holding my hand just the right amount of firm. I followed his lead as we swayed into the rhythm. Dante leaned in, his breath warm against my temple. Instead of speaking right away, his hand rose slowly, fingers brushing my cheek as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered for a moment, thumb grazing my skin like he didn’t want to let go. “You see all this gold and glitter?” he murmured, his voice a soft murmur just for me. “None of it even compares.”

She had seen it across ledgers in Dante’s study, across orders scrawled to his men. It was Dante’s handwriting. The room tilted. Her heart hammered as her mind rebelled. It can’t be. He wouldn’t… And yet the letters were there, undeniable. Tears stung her eyes as she read the words again. He’ll burn you himself. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Had he already decided her fate? Was every kiss, every touch, just a prelude to the fire he would set at her feet? “No…” The whisper broke from her lips. “No, he wouldn’t—”

JUNIPER. Dante lets go of my hand as soon as we walk into the dining room, and he takes his seat, leaving me standing there like a stranger he picked on the street. “Juni, there you are. Well don't just stand there, sit down!” Adelaide goggles, overly excited, and I know exactly why. I take a seat next to her, my eyes darting to Dante who is busy taking off his coat and handing it to one of the maids.

He stared at my fingers, the same ones that had once turned into a bloody mess after getting stuck between the bars of the drain cover. My fingers had recovered, but they were covered in hideous scars. The shape of my nails had also warped, looking like worms writhing around the tips of my fingers. Dante began breathing heavily as he stared at my hand. "Your hand…" he mumbled in a broken voice. "Lina, your hand…" "I already told you that you got the wrong person," I said, retracting my hand, hiding it behind me so he couldn't stare at it anymore. Dante's eyes reddened. His lips trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. He suddenly released my wrists and stumbled a couple of steps backward.

Watching me with those arctic eyes that didn’t just see—but dissected. My lips trembled. Every cell in my body screamed run. But there was nowhere left to run. I thought back to the box still hidden in my dressing room. The box with the remains of Dante. His severed head. His dismembered hands. A macabre gift from Lorenzo himself. A prelude to a life of silent obedience and unspoken fear. And yet... even now, there was no screaming. No salvation. Just this moment. This altar. These vows.

I started by opening one eye and I found Dante leaning a bit too close to my face. I planned to roll over to the floor even if I would end up in pain. However, I didn't get to initiate that because Dante’s hand went down to my waist a little bit lower. My breathing hitched. “I didn't know your loud mouth have use in other aspects.” there was no way I wouldn't understand his word. They were as dirty as his mind.

Instead, I turned my hand palm-up, inviting him in, our fingers slotting together as naturally as puzzle pieces clicking into place, his larger hand engulfing mine with a warmth that felt like home. He exhaled softly, a sound laced with relief that made my heart clench in my chest. His thumb began its slow, rhythmic dance across the back of my hand—tracing the delicate ridges of my knuckles, dipping into the hollows between my fingers, each stroke deliberate and soothing, like he was mapping me, memorizing every line. It was intimate, almost absentminded, but I knew better. Dante didn’t do anything without intention; every gesture was a calculated move in a game he always won. The warmth of

And the clothes she was wearing were too short to not permit a finger. Dante pressed on her ass. His cock jolted involuntarily and he stared at it, with a smile. “Little Dante is in anticipation of you sunshine…. Just as I am in anticipation of your pussy.” Elena’s face contorted into a gentle smile, she could see him, but she definitely could feel his hand against her skin. Dante trailed a finger to her wet entrance and her breath hitched. He pulled his hand out of her soaking wet cunt, taking it to his mouth and licking it off with a delighted expression.