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Dante’s hand closes around my wrist and he drags me away from the elevator, pinning my back to his front. With his free hand, he presses his finger to a scanner on the wall. In seconds, the elevator doors open.
Dante motions to Caroline with her unanswered question still hanging in the air. “Go home,” he repeats, more calmly this time.
“My father will not be happy with this, Dante Valentino.”
“Fair enough.”
“This is it then?” She stands between the elevator doors, her hand preventing them from closing.
“For now, yes.”
“You’re going to regret this, you low-class nothing.” She steps back, arms crossed so tight they’re wrinkling her bougie Chanel jacket, and the doors glide closed.
The moment she’s gone, Dante’s shoulders round, and he heaves out a frustrated sigh. His warm breath races across my ear, sending a splash of goosebumps over my arms.
“Sorry about your girlfriend,” I mumble.
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t give a shit about her, but you, you’re going to be sorry all right.” A feral smile curls his lips as he drags me toward his penthouse door. As soon as we cross the threshold, he tosses me over his shoulder. My sweater dress rides up, exposing my thong and half of my bare ass cheeks.
I squeal and try to wriggle out of his grasp, but his arm is like a steel vice around my waist.
“You said something about a safe word earlier?”
A roar of excitement ripples up my spine. “Umhmm,” I mumble against his shirt.
“Choose one.”
“Ex-squeeze me?”
He kicks the door open to his bedroom and plops me onto his bed, face down. Memories of the last time we were in this room surge to the surface, a mix of excitement and frustration tumbling through my mind. Cool air rushes over my exposed ass and another wave of goosebumps ripples over my skin. Until he climbs on top of me. Through his slacks, his thick erection skims over my ass and settles between my cheeks. Fire races up my needy pussy. Dante stretches over me and opens the drawer in his bedstand. The clink of metal jerks my attention.
Revealing two pairs of handcuffs and a sinister smile, my heart kicks at my ribcage.
“Dante … what are you doing?”
“Safe word?”
“No,” I cry. A hint of fear mixes with the overwhelming lust.
“That’s too easy, sweetheart. It’s gotta be something better than that.” His massive arms cage me in, dark ink peeking out from beneath his white muscle shirt. Those beautifully dark and twisted tattoos swirl across muscled flesh blotting out my vision.
“I mean no way in hell I’m letting you cuff me to your bed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the kinky shit, but I can’t tell if you want to fuck me or murder me right now.”
“A little of both.” He smirks, revealing a hidden dimple beneath that layer of wild scruff.
I try to struggle against him, but he only drops more of his weight over me. “I said you lost your chance with me, and I meant it.”
“And I fully respect your decision,” he rasps against my ear. “I’m not going to fuck you sweetheart, not unless you beg for my cock. I am however going to smack that ass raw for disobeying me. I let you off once, but that’s all you get. No one, and I mean no one, gets second chances with the King, so consider yourself lucky.”
Oh, my gawd, he’s snapped. Dante has lost his ever-loving mind.
And fuck me, a part of me is all for it.
Didn’t I want the mob boss out of control? Hadn’t I dreamed of that cock ravaging my pussy night after night since the first time I met the foul-mouthed Italian god?
He snaps the handcuff around my wrist and fastens the other end to the bedpost. “Dante, no!” He repeats the procedure with my other hand, despite my best efforts at squirming out of his hold. His erection rubs against my pussy with each squirm, and I’m finding it harder and harder to keep pretending this isn’t driving me wild.
He presses his lips to my ear and breathes, “Safe word?”
