Chapter Twelve
Evangeline
My body feels shattered, trembling in ways I didn’t know were possible. The sheets are twisted around me, my skin still hot, bruised where his mouth and hands have left their marks. Our combined releases drip from me onto my sheets.
Yet, he’s still here. Still inside me, as though his body refuses to leave me. He says there’s no escaping him, and I believe him.
Dante’s breath is ragged against my neck. His weight pins me down, like an anchor, a chain, and I cannot breathe. But God help me … I don’t want him to move. I love how big he is; it brings me comfort, makes me feel protected, when everything in my life is so crazy.
Staring up at the ceiling, I’m still riding the wave of feelings he’s created with his brutal lovemaking. As a young girl, I dreamed of kisses, of sweet words, of falling in love like the characters in the smutty romance novels I read late at night.
Instead, I have this. A violent possession. A man tearing me apart and putting me back together with nothing gentle about it.
Deep down, I know I should fear him. I should scream, fight, throw him out of my apartment. A smart girl would tell him to stay away, that he’s put me in danger. The rational part of me is screaming to run, but my body is telling me something else.
Or is it my body that’s honest, while my mind refuses to believe the reality?
This man is the bogeyman. The bad guy people warn you about. But looking back, I think I’ve always favored the morally gray antihero in my novels.
Everyone likes a bad guy, right? That is until you encounter one in real life.
Dante Vescari is the real-life embodiment of my romance fantasies: older, dangerous, irresistibly sexy. The very antihero of my dreams. But is he protecting me from danger? Or is he the danger to me?
When he shifts, grinding deeper into me, a broken sound slips from my throat. My body betrays me again, clinging to him, craving more. He feels so good inside me, so big. I love the feel of his weight on top of me, dominating me.
But it’s his dirty talk, that filthy mouth, that makes me want to be the submissive girl he desires. Dante needs to command; it’s part of who he is, and I guess that’s what I crave, his dominance. I want to be what he needs.
He hears it. My small, needy whine. Of course he does. His dark, gravel laugh rumbles against my ear.
“See? Even your body knows the truth,” he murmurs.
He lifts slightly and one hand strokes lazily over my body, grazing my breast, then moving lower, possessively stroking my sore and throbbing clit.
“You were made for me. Cursed, bound to me by some sort of black magic. We were always meant to be, strega dolce.”
My face burns. Shame coils in my chest. And yet, I don’t push him away. I want to. I should. But he’s right. I’m bound to him now, forever.
Well, it may be forever for me. I just gave Dante my body, and now, I’m sure I’m ruined for all other men from this moment forward.
Panicking for a moment, I finally realized the extent of my feelings for this dark man full of secrets. I’m in love with Dante Vescari, the “evil one”, a deadly mobster, and I’m fully aware that giving him my heart may be the worst thing I could ever do. He will destroy me.
“Dante…” My voice cracks, feeling the need to say what needs to be said. “This is happening too fast. This … this isn’t right. You can’t just…”
“I can.” His tone is rough. “I already have.”
His fingers tilt my chin until I’m forced to look at him. His eyes blaze, dangerous and hungry. “I told you, Evangeline. You’ve bewitched me. And I’ve done the same to you. Now, you’ll never be free of me.”
The words chill me. But they also … root me. Deep somewhere inside, a tiny part of me thrills at the madness of it.
Is this what it means to be under Dante Vescari’s spell, under the spell of the dangerous criminal?
I close my eyes, shuddering, torn between terror and desire, between who I was yesterday and who I am becoming. I don’t know if I’ve been ruined or reborn.
Or if there’s even a difference.