CHAPTER ELEVEN

ADELINA

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My legs almost give out underneath me. Since taking over his father’s position in the family, Dante has changed. In one week he has gone from this cheeky annoying man who I was attracted to, to a powerful mobster who kidnapped me and...

My body desires him so much I am ashamed.

I shouldn’t be. The man is a god. In his black designer pants and black shirt with his sleeves rolled up, he’s sex on two legs. The tattoos do nothing to deter me. Especially coupled with his chunky gold watch and family ring.

He’s wealthy, powerful, and sexual.

But I hate him.

I hate what he stands for, that he makes me crave his touch, and that his kiss has me second guessing everything I believe about my life.

I can’t...I won’t be a mobster’s wife.

I’ve been a mafia princess all my life. I know how it works. I won’t have any more rights or independence than I do now, as Mrs. Baldassare.

Probably less.

The expectations of what my role would be in life would be outlined. God knows what sort of don he’ll be—or husband—based on the past week. He kidnapped me for crying out loud.

The clock is still ticking.

I’m terrified everything I’ve set up in Los Angeles and worked for over the past few years is going to go down the drain.

A complete waste.

And I’ll be trapped here forever.

I need a plan.

A real plan.

Tonight, he’s let me out of that damn room, proving to me that Dante doesn’t want to keep me locked up. He wants me to play the part of being his lover. If that’s what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do.

He’s right about my father. It’s very likely he’d send me off to get married now that he knows Dante is the head of the family. I’m surprised Leo hasn’t come crashing through the gates.

Gianna.

Of course. Dante is trading me.

Or at least he wants to. Gianna is missing, and there’s no way my family would know that. Has she run away with this Braxton guy?

God, this world of mine is insane.

I can’t wait to get away from all of them. It’s political, but without any ethics or rules. It’s cruel and unfair to women.

It’s dangerous.

Dante’s tongue demands mine, forcing its way deep inside my mouth, and his hand pulls at my hair harshly.

My panties are wet.

How does he do this to me every time?

His hips buck against me as his other hand coasts across my hips and bottom, then lifts to run a single finger down my spine.

The backless dress doing nothing to stop the shiver that runs through me.

A moan escapes me as I try to keep my head, knowing I have a decision to make. One that will save my life, but I’ll pay with my soul.

Sleeping with Dante wouldn’t be horrible. I know I’d enjoy it. But doing it to buy your freedom is not something any woman should have to do.

Hence me hating him.

If I want to be free, this is what I must do.

I let go.

I let myself feel all the arousal I’ve fought for years. I lower the mental barriers and lean into our kiss, into his body, and mutter his name against his lips.

“Dante.”

“Addy,” he responds. “Fuck.”

“Yes.”

He moves his mouth off mine and stares down at me darkly with his powerful steel-blue eyes.

Then he steps away.

“I said yes.” I frown, watching him return to his seat.

What is he doing?

This man, who was once a boy, has waited for me to say that for nearly ten years. But he sits and lifts his cutlery. Then points with his fork and says. “Sit. Eat. Stop trying to manipulate me.”

For the love of god.

I wipe my mouth angrily, then flop down into the chair with a fuck you .

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

I eye the salmon, which smells divine. It makes no sense to starve myself, so I pick up my knife and fork, and stab at it angrily.

I will win.

Dante is obsessed with me, and I have a few cards up my sleeves. I nudge the material of my dress so it’s creeping very close to my hard nipples, then lean over to grab a roll.

He watches me.

Like the predator he is, chewing and watching his prey.

Sorry Dante Baldassare, this time I am going to win. Because I’m playing for my life.

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DANTE

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Whoever chose this dress is going to lose their fucking head. I don’t like it anymore. She’s almost falling out of it, and I can’t stop looking at her breasts.

Running my hand down her back moments earlier sent rockets of arousal straight to my cock. If I had my way, she’d be sitting on it right now.

Yes.

Liar. She thinks she can manipulate me, but there is no way Adelina is suddenly interested in fucking me now she’s under my guard and control.

Oh, she wants to fuck me. But she’s lying to herself about why.

She believes it’s for her freedom.

I watch her sway to the music in her chair as she sips on her dessert wine, a sticky Vin Santo.

I stand without thinking.

I can’t be this far away from her.

Reaching out my hand, I say, “Let’s dance.”

Dinner has been cleared and both of us nibbled on some cheese and grapes after.

“I should go to bed.” She giggles, taking my hand and tripping a little as she stands.

I catch her.

Has she drunk that much?

She presses her body against mine and nudges her nose into my neck. “You smell nice.”

Goddamn her.

We move to the soft Italian music and our bodies feel like they’re becoming one. Or maybe I’ve had too much to drink as well. Adelina runs her fingers along my neck and my eyes briefly close.

I’ve wanted this all my life.

Feeling her press her lips on my neck, her hands slide over my pecs, and I want to rip my shirt off and throw her on the table.

When her hand doesn’t stop at my belt, I hiss.

“Be careful.”

“Of you? I’m not scared of you, Dante Baldassare.”

I grit my teeth at the scent of her filling my senses, her touch drifting lower.

“You should be Adelina Baldoni, because when I take you, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for days.”

She stills.

I feel her falter. Then her hand begins to drift farther south.

I nod at the staff near the door, and they disappear, shutting the house so we have privacy. Adelina cups my erection and the thin sliver of control I had snaps.

I reach down and scoop her up, something inside me roaring like a wild lion, as she let out a feminine squeal.

“What are you doing?”

Whatever was left on the table goes flying and smashing to the ground as I yank the cloth, then I sweep the rest away and place my prisoner down.

“You. That’s what I’m fucking doing.” I growl as she tries to escape. I rip her dress open and stare down at her breasts.

It’s like they sparkle back at me.

I’ve seen these cupped in a bikini over the years, peaking out at me from gowns and sundresses.

Now, they are mine.

My mouth drops and I suck hard on the first one.

“Oh, god,” she cries, gripping my hair so fucking hard I cringe.

I grab the other breast and squeeze, my thumb flicking her nipple as I continue feasting on the first. My body spreads her legs as I press in between her thighs and when I release her breast, I slide my hand up and with a sharp rip, tear one side of her panties.

“Fucking hell.” Her voice full of passion.

And surprise.

“There’s no backing out of this.” I growl as my fingers slide through her wet flesh. “Christ, you’re soaked.”

She stares back at me when I lift, and I’m hit with her raft of emotions.

Fear.

Need.

Panic.

Arousal.

Want.

Me too, baby, me too.

“Tell me you want this.” I demand as my finger presses inside her.

She arches at my touch but doesn’t reply.

“Addy,” I growl.

“Yes,” she answers, but her eyes are closed, and I know she’s lying.

But her body isn’t. Her pussy clenches around my finger, demanding more. I add another and curl them, making her gasp and clutch at my biceps.

“Yessss.”

“Look at me.” I growl, sliding them in and out, in and out, knowing she’s going to come quickly tonight. I suck on her nipple and release it with a pop, then grip her face, forcing her eyes back to mine.

“Tell me you want this. Beg me for your release.”

Rebellion flashes across her pretty eyes. She wants to hate this.

But she doesn’t.

I pull my fingers out and her grip on my arms tightens. I rub her clit, circling it lightly. Enough to tease, not enough to please.

“You bastard.” She flings her head back.

“Beg me, kitten.” I flutter my fingers over her flesh, deepening the pressure every now and then, and lick her nipple.

“Just...you want this.”

Really? She wants to argue right now. Fine. Play dirty, you little brat.

So will I.

I crouch and run my tongue along her pink folds as I hold the silver fabric out of the way. Then plunge my fingers inside her once more.

Goddamn, she’s fucking delicious.

Adelina writhes on the table, her foot landing on my shoulder. “Dante,” she moans.

“Beg.”

Lick.

Suck.

Lick.

Then I remove my fingers once more. Her head lifts and I reach out my tongue and stare at her as I circle her clit.

“Beg, Adelina.” Then I flick her clit so fucking hard and fast that her eyes roll back in her head before she drops it against the table.

“Yes, I beg you. Make me come.” She screams.

I grin, then clamp my mouth down over her clit and press my fingers back inside her. I reach for her breast and relish every single fucking second of her body climaxing at my touch.

For the first, and not the last, time.