VIOLA
Dante fucks like he kills—precisely, effortlessly, and without mercy. He never stops looking into my eyes, not once. He sees me, the real me, and claims it for himself. Every thrust inside, every stroke, has me shuddering beneath him, shaking all over.
He invades all of my senses. Every taste and touch, every scent is him. I’m lost in the feel of him fucking me on the floor of his office. Not once has he changed rhythm or relented pressure.
I hate him, but I also need him.
The need is stronger, and ever since I’ve tasted him completely, I need more. It’s like I’m addicted, and there’s nothing I can do but give into the dark, devious temptation that is Dante Black.
“Just make me come so I can forget everything for a moment,” I hiss at him as he draws back from the kiss to look at me again.
“I’ll do more than that,” he says, a slight curl to his lips annoying me more than anything.
I told him not to fuck me, but I couldn’t help myself. And now he’s going to gloat all the way fucking home.
Still, it was worth it.
I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of him. Every time he slams into me, I lose a little bit of the rage that was eating me up from the inside out. He smirks and pushes into me again. Deeper. Harder. I let out a moan. I’m holding onto him, gripping his shirt like it’s all I have.
I wasn’t ready to let him go.
Even when I thought he’d left me.
He did leave.
Why do you still trust him?
Truthfully, I fucking don’t. Dante is gorgeous, sexy, and powerful, and I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him. And that isn’t far.
The heat has been building between my legs until I’m at the edge, a delicious warmth that sends tingles through every part of my body. I’m drowning in the intense pleasure, getting lost on the waves of it as Dante uses me, abusing my body.
I feel like I’m bloody dreaming, and yet I still could be.
I still have no idea how he got here.
If he’s working for my father….
I’ll kill him.
Dante groans as I clench around him. I’m close. I’m so very fucking close.
“Come inside me,” I say, opening my eyes and looking into his arctic blue ones. I want to feel something, anything, and the thought of him emptying inside me, marking me, filling me with his cum, has my entire body raging.
There is a flash of something behind his eyes, but then it’s gone. Instead, he blinks at me, tightening his fingers over my delicate neck as he fucks me.
“No.” The way he says it is absolute.
“Why not?” I grit out between his raw strokes. My lower half is unable to move anymore. It takes a lot to reach down and grab his balls.
“Viola,” he replies, a warning, but I can tell he’s fighting not to come. I slide my leg from his shoulder and wrap myself around him, one arm and legs locking him in again, so he can’t back out. As the pleasure climaxes and finally tips me over the edge into oblivion. I grip his balls tighter. I orgasm hard. He tenses, too, trying to pull out. But I’ve got him. He’s got me. When he realizes, he stops fighting me and closes my airway instead, taking away my breath.
The dark look on his face is worth it.
“Bitch,” he grits out as his hips jerk, and he shudders, straining despite himself. He’s still got his hand tight around my throat. I know why he’s not keen. Dante doesn’t like to leave evidence anywhere, and that includes leaving part of himself inside me. It’s against his nature, so that makes it even more delicious to win against him, to feel watch his icy gaze lock on to mine as I force him to do just that.
I’ve got you.
I wait him out, not struggling, seeing this through to the end. And just when I think he’s not going to let go, he gives in to me. His hips thrust one last time, and his savage gaze flares with something akin to hate as he releases deep inside me against his will. I give him a lustful, dark smile, as he fills me up.