In The Hand Of Dante Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I didn't even know how to open up and take him in. It was at this point that Dante suddenly loosened up. He yanked his hands out of his pockets, then he grabbed my left wrist and suddenly hauled it up roughly, “This was the hand you used on me earlier, right?" He smiled again, then tilted my hand briefly then he said again, "You hit me with this hand… so you're fucking gonna use this same hand right now. I want those fingers wrapped around this cock properly before you take it into your fucking mouth.” I suddenly broke down into tears, “But…but how's this supposed to enter my mouth…it's…it's too big—” I begged. I couldn't even believe I was saying this.

​ “I do w‌ond⁠er which n​ame Andr‌ea‌s mo⁠ans‌.‌⁠” My h‍a​nd tighte‍‌ned⁠ aro‍und th⁠e b⁠ar​ t‌o⁠wel.‍ “‍D​o n‌⁠ot ta​lk about hi⁠m like t⁠hat.” “Wh⁠y?” Dante asked softly. “H‍e talks about you.” I bl‍ink‍ed‍.‌ “‍What?”‌ “For w⁠eeks no⁠w,” Dante⁠ sa‌id,​ trailin⁠‌g h‍is​‌‌ f‌i‌ngers along‍ t​h‍e r‌im of a glass. “He’s been…⁠ d‌istracte‌d.​ Soft. Alway​s s​⁠ear‍c⁠hing f​or s‍omeone‌ in the cr⁠owd. You’ve ma‍⁠de hi‌‌‌m w​ eak,​ and you don’t e‍‍v​en understand ho‍w valuable t​hat is.” “I did‍n‌’t do an‍y‌thi‌ng.” “Exactly.” Dante’‍s eye‌s‍ gli⁠nted.​ “⁠That’s what m‌a⁠kes it​ da‍n‌g​e​rous.”​ He rea⁠ched tow⁠a​r⁠d my​ hand, clo‌sing h​i​s f‍i‌nger​s around mi​ne‍. I jerked b‌a​c‍k, but he‍ hel

Autumn I shivered, and Dante noticed. He squeezed my hand gently and urged me with his eyes to stay courageous. “This is just a phone conversation, Alexa. He is not going to hurt you from wherever he is,” Dante mouthed to me. I didn’t even remember that he was still holding my hand until he squeezed it, and when he said that, I felt less afraid. “I have been awaiting your call,” Dare-Devil said after a brief second of silence. “I did send the mail some days ago, you know,” he added.

He looked at Elian — this man who had written his interior in a novel and read it back to him at a kitchen table on a Portuguese island, without drama, without ceremony, just as the accurate description of a thing. "One hand around his coffee cup," Dante said. "The other resting on the table." "Yes," Elian said. "Close but not touching," Dante said. "Yes," Elian said. Dante put his hand on the table. He moved it across the manuscript, across the three hundred and forty pages of the thing that had grown here — across the garden novel, the Bucharest novel, the Euler novel, the love story novel — and put it over Elian's hand. "Close," Dante said.

Dante had found more food. She held Lorenzo's hand and let it.

Dante’s POV Her hand was wrapped around me, stroking slowly and clumsily, but sweet enough to make my cock ache. My cock twitched in her grip, swelling harder with every pass of her palm. For a second I thought I was still dreaming, but no.... the touch was too real. Heat. Skin. Her scent. I cracked my eyes open. Her hair spilled across my arm, her body warm against mine, still lost in sleep, murmuring broken words. “Fuck me.... Dante....”

He dared not finish. Dante’s grip tightened around her hand. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “She will survive. She has to.” --- Hours later, the villa had fallen into a tense silence. Amara lay in the large bed, her face pale against the pillows, her breathing shallow but no longer erratic. A soft glow from the lamp lit her features, fragile, ethereal. Dante sat at her side, his hand never leaving hers. His other hand held the poisoned wine bottle, its glass catching the light. He had stared at it for what felt like forever, the fury inside him carving deeper with each passing second.

I crossed my arms with confidence. "And it's Dante to you." He answered gruffly. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I glared when his hand reached again to my neck. Our faces only an inch apart. His big hand was almost wrapping it whole. His thumb massaging my throat like a feather. My hand automatically landed to his chest, unable to push him. "And when I thrust inside of you, I want to hear you scream my name. Every name of mine. "Adriano. Sol. Di. Angelo." His thumb stroking the center of my neck while uttering every name he owned. His eyes hooded in heat, lust clouding the windows of his soul. "And when you cum, it'll be Dante you moan."

Dante's right hand man was frozen stiff with shock when he finally recognized me but he still didn't bulge from his spot. Just when I was already entertaining the idea of knocking some sense into him, Dante's weak but firm voice finally issued a command. "Rio, let her come in."