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Chapter Fourteen

EMMA

The pulsating neon lights of Club Inferno washed over Emma as she stepped into the dimly lit entrance, her body still buzzing with adrenaline from her roller derby tryouts. Every muscle in her body should have been aching, but instead, endorphins danced through her veins like liquid fire. She felt alive, invincible even, as she crossed the threshold and searched for Dante amidst the writhing bodies on the dance floor.

“Emma.”

She whirled around. He wore faded denim jeans and a snug cotton T-shirt pulled taut over his muscular frame. No leather. No chains. Just raw, casual sensuality. His dark eyes smoldered with an intensity that made her wet. She blinked, feeling overdressed in her corset and fishnet stockings—attire he had specifically instructed her to wear.

“Change of plans?” she asked, her voice quivering with anticipation.

Dante’s lips curved into a wicked grin. “You might say that.”

Surprise mingled with curiosity as he led her away from the dungeon door and onto the dance floor. The bass reverberated through her bones, each beat echoing the unspoken desires thrumming between them.

He drew her close, his hands settling possessively on her waist. Against the backdrop of thumping music and swirling lights, they swayed together, two souls entwined in a hypnotic rhythm. As they moved as one, Emma could almost forget the years of unrequited longing, the countless times she’d watched him from afar and wished he would see her as more than just his best friend’s sister.

And then, without warning, Dante grasped her wrists and pulled her close. His lips crashed against hers, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She gasped as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing her lips before slipping inside her mouth.

Emma moaned, clutching at his shirt as he pushed her against the wall. She felt helpless under his gaze, yet strangely empowered by his possession. As he broke the kiss, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire and trepidation.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. “And tonight, I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

With every touch, she felt herself sinking deeper under his spell, the rest of the world fading away until there was only him. Emma’s pulse quickened, her breath hitching as desire pooled low in her belly. Everyone would have to be blind not to see that she was completely his.

“You have pleased me greatly,” he murmured into her ear as they danced, his warm breath making her shiver. “And I think you deserve a reward.”

A reward from Dante could mean so many things—and she wanted them all. But what form would it take tonight?

“Let’s get a drink in you first.” Dante flagged down the bartender. “Then we’ll see just how much fun you can handle tonight.” Her body still buzzed with adrenaline from the roller derby tryouts earlier. The ache in her muscles reminded her of the battle she waged in the ring, but it couldn’t compete with the anticipation building inside her, fueled by Dante’s enigmatic smile.

“Here,” Dante said, handing her a chocolate martini. The rich aroma filled her nostrils as she took a sip, the velvety liquid leaving a sweet trail of warmth down her throat.

“To the newest Sinner,” he toasted, voice a low rumble that vibrated down to her very marrow. “May you skate fast and hit hard.”

“Thank you,” she said, raising her glass in toast before taking another sip. Her gaze flitted to some dancers who wore masks to hide their identities, cavorting without inhibition. A part of her longed for the anonymity her mask would have provided, but as she looked into Dante’s eyes, she realized that she no longer needed it. She was ready to embrace this new chapter in her life—unmasked and unafraid.

“I have a surprise for you,” he murmured, the words an intimate caress. “Come with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dante’s hand found the small of her back, a searing brand through the flimsy lace of her corset as he guided her away from the dance floor. Anticipation wormed beneath her skin, a restless itch she couldn’t quite scratch. He led her down a discreet hallway, the muted clicks of her heels against polished wood a staccato counterpoint to the distant throb of music.

He ushered her through an unmarked door, and Emma found herself enveloped by the warm glow of artfully placed candles and the subtle scent of aromatherapy oils. The room had all the trappings of a high-end spa, from the plush massage table to the array of lotions and salves arranged on a gleaming cart.

Before she could take it all in, Dante’s breath stirred the fine hairs at her nape. “Strip.”

The clipped command brooked no argument. Her breath hitched as she complied, stripping off her corset and fishnet stockings and folding them neatly.

“On the table. Face down.”

She did as he ordered and felt cool leather straps being fastened around her wrists and ankles, securing her to the table. The table was soft against her cheek, the material warmed from some internal heating mechanism. She fought the urge to squirm as Dante loomed over her, as seconds stretched into small eternities.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, his fingers trailing a slow, tantalizing path along her exposed skin.

“Yes, sir.”

As she lay face down on the table, bound and exposed, she felt a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. The air was heavy with the scent of lavender and sandalwood, enveloping her senses and heightening her awareness of every touch.

“Relax,” Dante murmured, his warm breath ghosting over her skin as he moved closer. “I want you to enjoy this.”

His voice was like a silken caress, soothing and commanding all at once. Emma felt herself surrendering to him, trusting that he would guide her through the uncharted territory they were about to explore together.

A moment later, she felt the first slick touch of heated oil being poured onto her body. It was a sensation unlike any other—warm and slippery, a liquid embrace that made her shiver in pleasure. Then his hands were on her, strong and sure, kneading into muscles still sore from her skating drills.

A groan escaped her as he found a particularly stubborn knot, worked it ruthlessly until it dissolved beneath his ministrations. His touch was a live wire, tracing shimmering threads of sensation along her nerve endings until she was sure she would combust from the aching need he stoked with each stroke. A distant corner of her brain registered the subtle spice of the oil, something earthy and primal that made her want to writhe against the table until the throbbing ache between her thighs subsided.

But Dante controlled the tempo, his touch maddeningly precise as he mapped every quivering inch of her. “You did well today, Emma. You’ve earned this reward.”

His praise washed over her, more potent than any intoxicant. This was what she craved—his approval, his attention. She would gladly bear any number of bruises if it meant she could linger here, suspended in this blissful fugue where the only things that existed were his hands on her body and the low rasp of his voice.

Time lost all meaning under his reverent care, each languid stroke of his hands pushing her deeper into a simmering haze of absolute, utter relaxation punctuated by bright sparks of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, hands working magic on her tired feet.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, unable to fully articulate the depth of her pleasure.

“Good,” he said, a note of satisfaction evident in his tone. “Now, I want you to focus on your breathing and let go of everything else.”

Emma did as instructed, drawing in deep, calming breaths as Dante continued. With each exhale, she felt herself sinking deeper into the soft, padded surface of the table, her muscles melting under his touch.

As if sensing her growing arousal, Dante shifted his attention to more intimate areas, his oiled fingers tracing the curve of her ass before delving between her cheeks. He stroked her gently, his fingers teasing and stretching her puckered hole with a patience that left her trembling with need. With each stroke of Dante’s fingertips, relaxed deeper. The heated oil caressed her skin, igniting a need within her that she had to satisfy or she would go mad. She moaned softly as his fingers stretched her, teasing the tightness before plunging inside her.

“Please,” she whispered, arching her back. “I need...I want more.”

Dante chuckled darkly. He inserted a second finger into her anus, filling her up completely.

He leaned in close, his hot breath brushing against her ear. “You like that, don’t you? Being filled up like this?” He fucked her slow with his fingers, easing in and out. It was a sweet friction that made her tremble with need.

Emma nodded frantically, unable to form words. All that mattered was the sensation coursing through her body.

“Tell me how much you want it,” Dante commanded. His voice was like velvet, smooth and hypnotic.

“I need...I need...” Emma bit her lip, trying to find the right words. “I need you to fuck me, Dante.”

“Patience, my sweet Emma,” he admonished, even as he slowly pushed his well-lubricated fingers in and out of her tight passage. “This is about discovery and exploration—not just physical satisfaction.”

She gritted her teeth, struggling to hold back the tide of pleasure threatening to overwhelm her as Dante continued to fuck her ass with his fingers. Her body clenched around him in desperate hunger, each slow thrust driving her wild.

Without warning, Dante removed his fingers and replaced them with a small vibrator, the buzzing sensation causing her eyes to widen in surprise. She could feel every pulse of the vibrator deep inside her, echoing through her core.

The unexpected pleasure was quickly followed by the feeling of Dante’s tongue lapping at her swollen pussy, his skilled mouth working in tandem with the insistent vibrations.

“Please,” she gasped, her voice breaking in desperation. “Please let me come...I need it so badly.”

“Ask me properly,” he demanded, pausing in his ministrations.

“Please, sir,” she begged, the honorific slipping past her lips without a second thought. “May I come for you?”

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice dark and satisfied. “You may.”

And with that permission granted, Emma’s world shattered into a million fragments of ecstasy, her body shaking uncontrollably as the waves of pleasure washed over her. In that moment, there was nothing but the raw intensity of her orgasm, and the profound connection to the man who had brought her there.

The dim glow of flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls as Emma lay recovering from her intense orgasm, the scent of heated oil still lingering in the air. Her sweat-slicked body gleamed beneath the warm light, her chest heaving with each labored breath.

“Ready for more, Emma?” Dante murmured, his voice low and seductive as he picked up a flogger from a nearby table. Emma’s heart raced at the sight, anticipation and trepidation mingling within her.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

The first strike of the flogger landed across her back and buttocks, a sharp sting of pain that quickly morphed into pleasure. A gasp escaped her lips, and the only thing that came to mind was the need for more. “Sir, please...more.”

“Such a greedy girl,” Dante observed, a hint of amusement in his voice as he complied. “I’m putting my marks on you.” Each strike brought forth a symphony of pain and pleasure, and as the intensity built, Emma found herself unable to hold back her cries of ecstasy. “It’s a pattern I’ve never used before and I’ll never use again. This is Emma’s pattern, my beautiful Queen Mab.” He expertly wielded the flogger to create an intricate pattern of marks upon her tender flesh.

As if sensing her growing need, Dante reached down to turn the vibrator still nestled within her to its highest setting, sending shockwaves of sensation through her body. The combined stimulation of the flogger and vibrator pushed her to the brink, and Emma screamed his name, lost in the overwhelming torrent of pleasure. “Remember this, Emma,” Dante commanded. “These marks are my claim on you, a sign for all to see that you belong to me.”

Her body shuddering with the aftershocks of her second orgasm, Emma could only nod, her mind awash with the intoxicating realization of her submission to Dante.

“Good girl,” he praised, his hands now gentle as they applied soothing cream to her aching back and buttocks. The contrast between the pain she had just experienced and his tenderness made her quiver. He slowly turned down the vibrator and then eased it out of her tight hole.

As she reveled in the aftershock sensation, Dante donned a condom and climbed onto the wide table with her. He positioned himself above her and then with a slow, deliberate motion, he entered her, filling her completely. Emma’s breath hitched at the feeling, her body still sensitive from their previous activities.

She felt like she was going to shake apart into oblivion. She existed only for pleasure and Dante was giving her everything. Dante began to move within her, each rhythmic thrust stirring a delicious mix of pleasure and the residual ache from the flogger. “You wear my marks so beautifully, Emma,” he mused, his voice filled with raw desire.

Emma could only whimper in response, her thoughts consumed by the sensation of Dante’s body moving in harmony with her own. He held his body off her, but still the burn of the marks on her back melded with the raw passion that consumed her with each deep thrust from Dante. Kneeling between her legs, he gripped her hips, pulling her up on her hands and knees, their bodies still connected in an intimate dance that left her breathless and shaking.

“Please, Dante,” she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. She ached for release, but knew she must wait for his permission.

Dante’s eyes locked onto hers, dark and intense. “You want more?” His tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of possessiveness that made her feel loved.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she nodded, enthralled by the power he held over her. She craved his dominance, his control, and the way it made her feel alive, truly herself.

“Then take it.” He drove into her with a sudden force that stole her breath away. He held her tightly to him, his entire length buried within her, and she clenched around him, fighting to hold back her orgasm.

In that moment, Dante reached for something and then snapped a leather collar around her throat. It was thin and tight, but Emma reveled in the sensation, feeling both owned and protected. His fingers traced the collar, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he spoke. “This is how I claim you, Emma. You’ll wear this collar for all to see, a symbol of your submission to me. Will you accept my collar?”

Tears streamed down Emma’s face as she nodded in agreement. She wanted nothing more than to please him, to show him just how much she loved being under his control. Emma could barely form the words, her need bordering on unbearable. “Yes, please...yes.”

The moment she agreed, Dante unleashed a torrent of fierce thrusts, driving her toward an explosive climax. With each thrust of Dante’s hips, Emma felt the warmth spread between her legs. He moved with a grace that belied his strength, his hands gripping her hips as he took her hard and fast. She arched her back in response, meeting each stroke of his cock with a moan that echoed in the room.

As she neared her peak, Dante slowed his pace, his rhythm almost taunting her with teasing stops and starts. She writhed under him, desperate for release.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the intensity of their encounter. “I need to come.”

“Then beg,” he commanded.

“Please, Dante,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Let me come.”

With a low growl, Dante drove deep inside her again, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly. She felt the familiar ache building within her, the tension coiling tighter with each passing moment.

“You may come.”

She fell into the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. Her body shook with the force of it, her cries echoing through the room as she clung to him, her world consumed by the pure bliss of his touch. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, leaving her shattered and breathless.

“That,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “is what it means to belong to me.” He got off the table and uncuffed her ankles and wrists. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

Emma’s eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion overpowered her. She managed, “I love you too,” before sinking into a deep, peaceful zone of bliss.

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