Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 462: Touched, Worshiped, Loved

Dante didn’t move quickly. Then again, he never did. Everything he did was deliberate...measured like a blade meant to both kill and caress. He was like a jungle cat, stalking his prey. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

And for once, I didn’t mind being prey if it meant being looked at like I was the only person in the universe.

He sat beside me, his thigh pressed against mine, and in the low, flickering light of my house, he looked every inch the demon he truly was. No mask. No charm. Just raw, exposed pride in a body that shouldn’t have been able to contain it.

Salvatore stayed where he was, his hand gently cradling my ankle like I was something fragile.

I wasn’t.

But tonight... I almost wished I was. I almost wish that I hadn’t been stained by my past, but if I hadn’t gone through all that, then I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

And I kind of liked her.

"Tell me to stop," Dante said, voice low, a dangerous murmur that curled around my spine like smoke. "You control everything. If you want me to stop, I will. You just have to say the word."

I didn’t.

I just looked at him—really looked. His eyes weren’t glowing. His power wasn’t crackling in the air. And yet, he still took up all the space in the room, like gravity bent to him alone.

"I’ve never wanted to own you," he said, fingers brushing lightly across my knee. "And I am smart enough to know that just because I belong to you, doesn’t mean that I do. I just wanted you to choose me. Not Pride, not one of the other Sins. I wanted you to look at me and see me. I wanted you to choose the man that I am."

"I don’t choose easily," I said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. The expression on his face, so strong, but so vulnerable at the same time made me want to rip out my heart and soul so that he could see that he was mine, and that he was enough.

"You don’t need to," chuckled Dante, cradling my hand in his much larger one. Ever so slowly, he turned so that he was kissing my palm. "I can see in your eyes that you already have."

I should have laughed. Made a joke. Rolled my eyes and said something flippant like ’you wish.’ But I didn’t.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

Somewhere along the way, in the chaos and the blood and the teasing and the silence, I had chosen Dante without ever realizing it. He didn’t beg for my attention—he just held it. Effortlessly.

Letting go of my hand, he placed his back on my thigh. His thumb moved slow and strong, drawing circles on my flesh, slow enough to be respectful, firm enough to remind me who he was.

I leaned into him, my temple brushing his jaw.

"You’re not afraid of me," I whispered. A part of me thought that I might have been a bit too cruel with some of the things I have done. After all, I could have saved the human race, I just chose not to.

"No," he said simply, a soft smile on his face. "But I’m terrified of what I’d do for you."

Salvatore shifted beside me, his thumb stroking circles against my other thigh. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence grounded me, reminded me that I was safe—even now, even here.

"Then kiss me again," I said, wanting to go back to that feeling.

Dante didn’t hesitate.

This time, the kiss wasn’t fire. It was complete and utter possession. Not of my body—but of every dark, broken shard I pretended didn’t matter.

He kissed me like I was his final temptation. Like he’d waited lifetimes for me to stop running.

And I let him.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and let him push me back onto the bed, my body stretched between him and Salvatore like a prayer caught between fire and breath.

Salvatore’s hands moved to my waist, steadying me... ground me even as the rest of my body threatened to fly away under Dante’s attention.

Dante’s lips trailed down my jaw, his breath hot and uneven.

"I want to ruin you," he growled against my throat, nipping at the soft skin he had exposed.

"You want to worship me," I corrected, breathless. I could feel the difference, and I loved it.

He laughed—but it wasn’t amusement. It was hunger. It was agreement.

"Yes," he breathed, his lips moving up to my ear as he continued to kiss and nip his way around my body. "Please, let me worship you."

The sound of my zipper being lowered was loud in the quiet room. My dress slid off my shoulders, and Dante’s hands followed, reverent and slow, exposing my skin, my scars to his gaze.

I froze for a second as I remembered my scars. Normally, they weren’t a big deal, I merely considered them a road map of my life... where I had been and where I was going. But now, the idea that Dante might see them and be disgusted made me panic.

Salvatore kissed the inside of my wrist. "You’re shaking," he murmured softly.

"I’m not scared," I whispered back, lying through my teeth as Dante continued to undress me.

"I know," Salvatore replied, easily seeing through me. "But let us take care of you anyway."

Hands. Mouths. Heat.

There was no rush. No chaos. No need to fight for dominance.

They didn’t take control from me—they just held me together, even as they caused me to fall apart, piece by piece, without judgment.

Dante kissed down my sternum, teeth grazing the skin but never biting. His hand moved lower, drawing soft lines against my thigh like he was memorizing a map. Salvatore stayed behind me, pressing warm kisses to my shoulder blade, letting me feel him—solid, present, mine.

The night stretched long and sweet as I took both of my Sins.

And for once, I didn’t have to be the Devil.

I was just Hattie—touched, worshipped, loved.