Chapter Four

Dante

I step away from her, my hands clenched at my sides, trying like hell to keep my composure. The room feels too small, too hot, and the way she’s looking at me—it’s driving me insane. Her eyes are wide, still filled with fear, but there’s something else there now, something that’s pulling me in like a magnet.

Fuck. I need to get out of here before I lose my mind.

My body’s betraying me, and I shift slightly, trying to hide the ever-growing bulge in my pants. I can’t be thinking like this, not right now. Not with her. She’s terrified, confused, and all I can think about is how fucking beautiful she looks under these lights, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. I can’t focus.

“What’s your name?” Her voice is soft, barely audible, and she’s still trying to get comfortable.

I glance at her for a second, forcing myself to keep it together. “Dante,” I say.

She nods. I take off my jacket and step closer, draping it over her shoulders. Her skin is cold beneath my fingers, and I lean in, my lips just inches from her ear. “Here. Keep yourself warm.”

She takes it and she pulls it tighter around herself. I can’t wait for a thank you.

I pull out my phone and dial my driver. “Meet me out front,” I growl into the phone, my eyes never leaving her. I hang up and turn back to her, reaching for her arm. “We’re leaving.”

I keep my hand on her, guiding her toward the door, making sure she’s covered enough to avoid attention. When we get outside, the night air hits us, cool and refreshing. My mind’s racing. What the fuck am I doing? This isn’t me.

The car pulls up, and I open the door for her, motioning for her to get in. As she slips into the seat, I catch a glimpse of her legs, bare beneath my jacket, and something inside me tightens. Jesus Christ. I need to get a grip.

I slide into the car beside her, closing the door behind me. The space feels too small, too intimate, and the scent of her—something soft and sweet—fills my lungs. I can’t fucking think straight. Being this close to her is dangerous. I shouldn’t want her, not like this. But I do.

The ride is quiet and tense. Neither of us speaks, but I can feel her presence next to me, her body just inches away. Every time I glance over, she’s staring out the window, lost in thought. I don’t know why I’m doing this, why I feel this need to protect her.

I glance at her again, my chest tightening. She’s different. There’s something about her that gets under my skin, something I can’t shake.

Fuck.

I turn my head, staring out the window, trying to push the thoughts out of my head, but they keep coming back. Her bare skin. The way she looked at me back there, like she didn’t know whether to run or come closer. And the way I feel right now—like I’d burn the whole fucking world down if it meant being around her.

We pull up to my house, and I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding. I open the door and get out, reaching for her hand as I help her out of the car. The second her fingers touch mine, that same fire ignites in my veins, and I know, no matter how hard I try to fight it, I’m already fucked.

“Let’s go,” I mutter, leading her toward the house.

We step into my house, and I lead her straight to the kitchen. She looks around, taking in the place, but her silence speaks volumes. I set two plates down on the table—spaghetti, nothing too fancy, just something to eat after the nightmare of a day she's had.

“Sit. Eat,” I say, pulling out a chair for her. She hesitates but then slowly takes a seat. I sit across from her, trying to focus on my food, but it’s impossible not to keep glancing at her. She's still on edge, clearly trying to make sense of everything. Hell, I’m still trying to make sense of this.

The clinking of forks against the plates is the only sound in the room for a while, the silence thick. I finally break it, unable to hold back the question burning in my mind. “How did you end up there?”

Her fork pauses mid-air, and she lowers it, eyes darkening as she takes a deep breath. Then she starts talking—about the auction, her uncle, and the lies that led her there. With each word, my anger builds. My fists clench under the table, and I force myself to stay calm, to just listen. But all I want to do is hunt down every bastard responsible for her pain and make them pay.

When she's done, the weight of her story hangs heavy between us. I clear the dishes, trying to get my temper under control as I carry them into the kitchen. I rinse the plates and dry my hands, before showing her to the spare room. As I turn to leave, it hits me—she doesn’t have anything to wear.

Shit.

I grab a few of my shirts from the closet and head toward the spare room. When I reach her door, I knock lightly before stepping inside. My breath catches when I see her standing there, wrapped in a towel, her damp hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

"Do you have something I can wear?" she asks softly, her voice almost timid.

I swallow hard, my pulse picking up. I walk over to her, handing her one of my shirts, but the second our hands touch, it’s like a spark ignites between us. She smiles faintly, taking the shirt, but neither of us moves.

And then I realize we’re standing too close—too damn close. My eyes lock on hers, and everything around us fades. She’s staring at me, wide-eyed and innocent, and I can’t hold back anymore. I reach out, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. My fingers linger, grazing her cheek, and before I can stop myself, I lean in.

Our lips crash together, and she gasps, her hands flying to my neck, pulling me closer. The kiss is raw, intense, and everything I’ve been fighting against since I laid eyes on her. My blood is boiling, my heart is racing, and I curse against her mouth, “Fuck, this shouldn’t be happening.”

But I can’t stop.

I kiss her harder, my hands gripping her waist, and she presses against me, making it impossible to think straight. I pull back, breathless, my chest heaving. I should go, I should let her be alone, let her unwind from this godawful day. But I can’t. My need for her overwhelms my need to do the right thing.

I pull her into another kiss, this one deeper, more exploratory than the last. “Show me your beautiful body,” I say, stepping away so she can bare herself to me.

She stares into my eyes and takes off the towel exposing her tits. I push her backwards and start sucking on them, hard. She has beautiful, puffy, perky nipples that I viciously suck, lick, and kiss. All this time I’m so turned on and enjoying pleasuring her so much that I know my cock could explode at any moment. I stroke her arms and sides and start kissing the side of her neck. She stands there, speechless as I embrace her, rubbing my body against hers. My hands slip from her sides to the sides of her breasts, and as I stroke her I keep full eye contact.

I kiss her ferociously lean her head over to the side and start kissing her neck, biting her ear, and licking her shoulders. Holy fuck, she’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

I place her hands on the table and spread her legs apart, just like a cop would do. She is mine! At this point, she’s still in the towel—but not for long.

I drop my hands down to her legs, touching them from the bottom, all the way up to her butt and she flinches. As my hands slide up to her ass, I feel her body tense, her breath catching in her throat. She flinches, a small gasp escaping her lips, and suddenly, her hands grip my arms tightly, almost as if she’s unsure. Her eyes flicker up to mine, wide and nervous, betraying her inexperience. There’s a hesitation in the way she moves, an innocence that wasn’t there before, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.

"Emily," I whisper, searching her gaze.

Her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip, her voice barely audible as she whispers, “I’ve never... done this before.”

That’s when I know—she’s a virgin.

"Emily," I say softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, "I won’t do anything you don’t want. We don’t have to rush this."

She bites her lip, the uncertainty still written on her face, but then she nods, her grip on my arms loosening just a little. "I trust you," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. That small gesture, that nod, makes my chest tighten. I want her to feel safe with me—always.

I kneel between her thighs, staring up at her as the desire burns through me. Fuck, she’s perfect—every inch of her. I can barely keep my hands off her, but I need her to want this as badly as I do. I need her to beg for it. But not tonight. Not until she’s ready to surrender everything to me.

I start massaging her inner thighs, feeling her body tremble under my touch. She’s so wet, dripping with desire, and it’s driving me insane. I lean in, my breath ghosting over her slick pussy, and I can see how turned on she is. Her body’s practically begging for it, her hips shifting toward me, aching for more.

Without hesitation, I press my tongue against her, teasing her folds. The taste of her sends a shiver through me. She’s sweet, fucking intoxicating, just like I imagined. My tongue dips into her, licking her pussy in slow, deliberate strokes. Her back arches, and the moans spill from her lips, raw and loud, filling the room.

I suck on her clit, rolling it between my lips, feeling her body tense, every nerve alive with the pleasure I’m giving her. She’s close—so close. Her legs start to shake, and I feel them trying to close around my head.

"Open up for me, Princess," I growl, my voice thick with lust. "Let me show you what you do to me."

She obeys, spreading her legs wider, giving herself to me completely. I dive in, devouring her, my tongue working her pussy until she’s trembling. Her moans turn into cries as I push her over the edge, licking and sucking her with everything I have. She comes hard, her entire body shuddering, and I don’t stop, not until she’s drained and gasping for breath.

I stand, my chest heaving, my cock aching. Grabbing her by the waist, I spin her around, pulling her close. Our lips crash together, and I kiss her deep, letting her taste herself on my tongue. Her cum is still fresh on my lips, and I want her to feel every part of this moment.

"That’s just the beginning," I whisper against her mouth. "You’ll want more, and when you do, I’ll give you everything."