Chapter 9
Dante
The silence that followed my words stretched between us like something alive. I watched her process it—the slight widening of her pupils, the way her breath caught, the flush that crept up her neck.
"If I don't choose you," she said slowly, "you'll just let me walk."
I didn't answer. Couldn't. Because we both knew it was a lie.
She took a step closer instead of away. My entire body went rigid.
"You're lying," she whispered.
"Yes."
The honesty seemed to knock something loose in her.
Her eyes glistened, but she didn't look away.
Didn't flinch. Just stood there in front of me like she was trying to memorize the shape of my face, the exact shade of my eyes, the particular way my chest rose and fell under the weight of what I felt for her.
"Why me?" The question came out broken. Desperate in a way that suggested she'd been carrying it for days, maybe longer.
I stepped closer. Close enough that I could see the rapid pulse at her throat. Close enough that the scent of her—something like jasmine and whatever soap she'd used in the shower—filled my lungs.
"Because you're mine," I said.
No softening it. No dressing it up in pretty language or strategic reasoning. Just the truth, raw and possessive and undeniable.
She stared at me like I'd said something impossible. Like I'd reached into her chest and claimed something that had always belonged to me.
Her hands trembled. I watched her fingers curl into fists at her sides, watched her jaw clench like she was fighting something inside herself. The war between what her mind was telling her and what her body wanted was written across her face in real time.
"You can't just—" she started.
"I can." I reached out, my hand finding the curve of her jaw. Her skin was warm. Alive. "I did. I will. Again and again until you understand that every breath you take is mine to protect. Every choice you make is yours, but you belong to me."
"That's not—" Her voice broke. "That's not fair."
"No," I agreed. "It's not." It wasn’t as if I had a choice, either; because Vince was right. The smart thing, the strategic thing, would be to let her go. And I couldn’t.
She looked at my hand like she was deciding whether to pull away.
The moment stretched. Became everything.
In that second, I would have accepted her rejection.
Would have stepped back and kept my distance and slowly died from the proximity of having her so close and unable to touch her the way I needed to.
Instead, she leaned into my palm.
The action was so simple, so absolute in its surrender, that something in my chest cracked open.
I moved before she could change her mind. My other hand found the back of her neck, tilted her face up, and I kissed her like I'd been dying to do since the moment I saw her at that gala three months ago. Like I'd been holding back a hurricane and someone had finally opened the floodgates.
She gasped into my mouth.
I swallowed the sound, deepened the kiss, pulled her closer until there was no space between us. Her hands found my chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt like she needed an anchor. I could feel her heartbeat racing against mine.
When I finally broke away, we were both breathing hard.
"Tell me to stop," I said against her mouth. "Tell me right now, and I will."
She didn't.
Instead, she kissed me again. Harder this time. Desperate. Her hands moved up to my neck, her fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer. She kissed me like she was starving and I was the only thing that could sustain her.
I walked her backward without breaking contact, not stopping until her back hit the wall beside the doorway.
The impact barely registered—all my attention was on her, on the way she was kissing me back with an intensity that matched my own, on the small sounds she made in the back of her throat that went straight to my cock.
"Dante—" she breathed against my neck.
"I know," I said. My hands moved to the hem of her shirt, and she didn't stop me.
I pulled it over her head in one motion, tossed it aside, and took a moment to just look at her.
At the rise and fall of her chest. At the way her breasts moved beneath the simple white bra she wore.
At the intensity in her eyes as she watched me.
She reached for the buttons of my shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly as she worked them open. I let her set the pace, let her undress me piece by piece, watching the way her breath hitched each time more of my skin was revealed to her.
When my shirt hit the floor, she pressed her palms flat against my chest. I could feel her trembling.
"You're sure?" I asked, needing to hear it from her.
"No," she said. And then, softer: "Yes. I'm sure."
I unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, then picked her up. Her legs wrapped around my waist instinctively, and I carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.
I laid her on the bed carefully, like she might shatter if I wasn't gentle enough. She pulled me down to her, and I settled between her thighs, groaning at the feel of her skin against mine.
"I need you," she whispered against my shoulder. "I need—"
I silenced her with another kiss, my hands moving to the waistband of her pants. She lifted her hips so I could pull them down, along with her panties, until she was completely bare beneath me.
For a moment, I just looked at her. At the woman I'd been obsessed with for months. At the woman who was now mine in every way that mattered.
"You're beautiful," I said.
She reached for my pants, and I stood long enough to remove them, along with my briefs. When I came back to her, she was watching me with dark eyes that were equal parts fear and hunger.
I positioned myself at her entrance, my jaw clenching with the effort of holding back.
"Look at me," I commanded softly.
She did. Her eyes locked on mine as I pushed inside her slowly, watching her face contort with the stretch of it. She was tight, and warm, and everything I'd imagined and nothing I could have prepared myself for.
"Dante," she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I stilled, giving her time to adjust. "I've got you," I murmured against her forehead. "Just breathe."
After a moment, she nodded, and I began to move. Slowly at first. Methodically. Each thrust a declaration, a claim, a promise that I would never let her go.
Her hands moved across my back, down to my hips, pulling me deeper.
She met me thrust for thrust, her body responding to mine like we'd been doing this for years instead of minutes.
The connection between us felt like something alive.
Something that had always existed and we were just finally acknowledging it.
"You feel—" she started, but couldn't finish.
"I know," I groaned.
I picked up the pace, losing the careful control I'd been maintaining. My breathing became ragged. The world narrowed down to nothing but her and me and the sensation of her wrapped around me, accepting me, claiming me right back.
When she came, it was sudden. Intense. Her body tightened around me, and she cried out my name like it was the only word she knew. The sight of her, the feel of her, the sound of her—it pushed me over the edge.
I came hard, burying myself deep inside her, my body shaking with the force of it.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. I was still inside her, my chest heaving against hers, my heart racing so fast I thought it might beat right out of my ribs.
Then I rolled to the side, pulling her with me, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist like I was afraid she'd disappear if I let go.
She was trembling. Whether from pleasure or shock or something else entirely, I couldn't tell.
I pressed my lips to the top of her head, taking in the scent of her, letting my own breathing slowly return to normal even though my grip on her didn't ease.
"You're not a pawn," I whispered into her hair. "You're the only thing that's ever felt real."
She didn't respond. Just lay against me, her head on my chest, her breathing slowly evening out as the intensity of what had just happened settled over us like a blanket.
I held her like that for a long time. Hours, maybe. Long enough for the city below to shift from evening to night. Long enough for my mind to settle, even as my body remained hyperaware of hers.
She was part of me now. Woven into every breath, every thought, every plan I'd ever make.
I would destroy anyone who tried to take her from me. Without hesitation. Without mercy.