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“W-what do you mean?”
He presses his body closer, until my back is touching his chest. I am caged in by him. He’s everywhere, his scent, his touch, but I don’t feel trapped at all. It’s all I can do to stop myself from moaning his name and begging him to take me right here on the kitchen counter.
“You have any idea how hard I’ve been since I slid my fingers inside you last night? How I can’t get the taste of your wet cunt out of my head.”
Sweet mother of God!I press my ass back against him and feel his huge, hard cock against my lower back.
“I want you, Kat. I want to fuck you so bad it hurts. I want to finish what I started and finger fuck your cunt until you scream my goddamn name. I want you to ride my face until you come all over my tongue.”
“But I hate you,” I pant the words, and I’m pretty sure neither of us believes that anymore.
“It’s okay to want someone you don’t like, Kat,” he growls, and the deep cadence of his voice rolls into my core. “It’s just a physical reaction. You don’t have to like me, but I know you want me. You know how good we would be together.”
He pulls my hair back, his fingertips brushing over the soft skin of my neck and making goosebumps prickle out all over my body and wet heat sear between my thighs.
He runs his nose over my throat, inhaling deeply. “You smell so fucking good.” Then he clears his throat, as though he got distracted and lost his train of thought. “I would fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked before in your life, kitten. We know it’s only a matter of time.”
“Dante,” I say his name in a stuttered breath. This is too much. He is too much. If I let him, he would consume me. Just like fire feeds on oxygen, he would take everything I have left and leave me a broken shell. Regardless, I am drawn to him anyway. I feel him in every part of me, reaching for my very soul.
Then he is gone again. The loss of his warmth and the solid feel of his body pressed against mine leaves me feeling lacking and bereft.
I sigh with relief and frustration once he’s left the room.No more games, Kat!This is the last time I go wandering around the house at night, hoping to bump into the devil, because the next time it happens, I might just let him drag me into hell.
Chapter10
Kat
My fingers twitch and my skin itches as I pull the covers up over my shoulders and focus on the TV. It’s a little after ten, but I am not going downstairs to the kitchen. I am not playing into Dante’s hands. So what if he told me he wants to fuck me. It would probably be incredible given how skilled those fingers of his are, but unlike him, I’m not driven by my baser desires. I’ve gone over two years without sex. I don’t need it. I certainly don’t need it with a man I can barely stand. My kidnapper at that.
So why am I still thinking about whether he is downstairs wondering if I’m going to show? I groan out loud and pick up the TV remote before flicking through the channels until I find a romantic comedy. I settle back against the pillows and smile. This is the only kind of romance I need in my life, right?
The movie is almostover when there is a loud knocking at my bedroom door. My heart rate kicks up a few gears, and I instinctively pull the covers up to my neck. But it’s not Dante.
“Kat?” Maximo shouts. “Are you awake? We need your help. Someone has been shot.”
Throwing the covers back, I jump out of bed. “I’ll be right there,” I say as I rummage through my dresser drawer and pull out a pair of sweatpants. Tugging them on as fast as I can, I run to the door and open it to see Maximo waiting for me.
“Is it Dante? Is he okay?” I ask.
“Dante’s fine. He’s on his way back now,” he says as he starts to head down the hallway with me on his heels. “But Mitch took a bullet to the shoulder. Doesn’t look like it hit anything important, but the bullet didn’t pass right through. I’d dig it out myself, but you’d do a better job.”
“You’ve done that before?” I ask with a grimace, imagining Maximo literally digging around in someone’s bullet hole cavity with his giant hands.
“Plenty,” he says with a shrug. “The doc’s not always available and we have to act quickly. And now that he’s dead, we have you instead.”
“The doctor whose things are in the room downstairs? He’s dead?” I gasp.
“Relax, it was a heart attack. And it’s not really his stuff. Dante bought it for him, so that we wouldn’t have to take our guys to the hospital, but yeah, it was supposed to be his room. I guess it’s yours now,” he says, turning his head and smiling at me.
“I guess it is.”
In the room, Mitch is sitting up on the hospital bed, clutching his shoulder. Blood oozes through his fingers and trickles down his bare chest. I notice his shirt hanging from his arm because someone has already cut it from him. He’s grimacing at the pain, but he is stoic and he doesn’t make a sound when Maximo and I enter the room.
“Hey, Mitch, how are you doing?” I ask as I pull on a pair of latex gloves and remove his fingers from his wound so I can examine him.
“Like I got run over by a truck, doc,” he grits out the words.
“I’m a nurse, not a doctor,” I tell him. “But I can take care of this for you, I promise.”
