by Leah Holt
It was a sweet idea to think I hadn't watched the murder of another, or that I wasn't going to be killed just then. That this was all a play being put on for the amusement of another.
I wasn't that lucky . . .
“Remo won't pay for me.” I wanted him to think I was useless, that my existence here was only a burden on him—because it was. “Just let me go.”
“If he cares for you, he'll do what we want.”
If Remo did pay to get me back it wouldn't be for love, it would be for his own benefit. I was just a line on his bucket list. He didn't give a fuck about me and he never would. To Remo I was disposable once he got what he wanted.
I needed Dante to know that.
A meddling smile crept up my face, lids half opened. “You really have no fucking clue about what I am to him, do you?”
Cocking his head a hair, a grin split across his cheeks. “You can't threaten me, it won't work.”
“It's not a threat. Maybe killing me is a better option.” Shrugging my shoulder, I picked nervously at my thumbs over my head. “Giving me back to him is just the same as pulling the trigger yourself.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dante's brows dipped down, wrinkles rippling over his forehead. “Do you think I won't pull the trigger? That I'd shake and cry if I had to snuff your existence right here?”
Shaking my head no, I said, “You don't get it. I was never his, and he'll never be mine.”
My arms were starting to hurt, cramping and going numb. The blood had drained away, and I was left with pins and needles stapling their way through the muscles.
Adjusting my arms, I grimaced. “Can you at least cuff these lower? My arms are fucking killing me.”
“Don't change the subject. If you're not Remo's, then what are you? A hooker, a whore, a paid friend with benefits?”
Veering my stare, my nostrils flared in anger. “No. I'm none of those things. I'm not fucking him, and if you let me go, then maybe I can keep it that way.”
His laugh made my heart hammer inside my chest. “Wow, wow.” Drawing a hand through his hair, he gripped the base of his neck. “You're trying to work me. Lucky for you I'm not fucking stupid.”
“Obviously you are.” Calling a Pisani stupid wasn't the best decision, but I had nothing to lose. “Do you think I'd lie to you? Do you think I'd basically ask you to do me the favor of killing me, knowing you could without a fucking second thought?” Arching a brow, I eyed him through thin lids. “So yeah, stupid looks good on you.”
Freezing, I watched him closely.
As Dante's hand glided down my cheek, cupping my chin, and tickling across my collarbone, I felt my body breaking. His fingers gripped firmly around my throat, squeezing with just enough pressure to show me he could crush my esophagus with one snap.
And as sick as it sounds . . . It turned me on.
I liked the way it felt as he constricted, holding my impulse to breathe in his touch.
His eyes were solid, staying glued on my mine. “I'm far from stupid, Sweetheart. And I don't like when people try to control a situation that is mine to own.” Bringing his lips to the shell of my ear, he whispered. “I own you now.”
Desire was strangling my insides, holding me to him, making me want what I shouldn't ever crave. His chest was lifting rapidly, the space between us growing smaller and still it felt like he was so far away.
His eyes were piercing, drawing me in deeper.
I couldn't look away. I couldn't tell him no.
Want had taken over.
And I wanted Dante Pisani.
Eight
Dante
She felt so hot beneath my fingertips. Every curve of her body, every inch of her skin was smooth and soft.
If she wasn't Remo's, then I was making her mine.
My adrenaline was still in overdrive after watching my father hold a gun to her head. And that feeling had turned me wicked. My word had kept her alive.
I won.
I won her for another day, for another moment.
There was no way I could ignore how fucking hard that made me. To take on someone who could cut the lights out in one snap, and win . . .
It was a powerful feeling to hold someone's life in your hands, and I wasn't ashamed to admit I fucking loved it. I wasn't the good guy here, I was the keeper of need.
And I needed her for myself.
My entire body was reeling with fire and ice. Running a finger over her cheek, I leaned into her ear. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” Ivy's voice was soft and unsure as I loosened my hand from her throat.
“Tell me what you want.” Blowing hot air over her lobe, I watched the shiver scale her body.
Turning her head to the window, she stared at the black glass. “What I want doesn't matter. I'm never going to get it.”
“You don't know that.” Brushing the hair from her face, I twisted a thick lock into a tight spiral. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”
Her lids closed slowly, lashes fluttering as she thought about what I asked.
I liked that she had to think about it. It meant she wanted it even if she didn't think she should. There was a level of danger to my question, a thin line that she could easily cross and never look back.
But that's what was alluring. To want what you're not supposed to have, to have what you think is wrong.
I was the wrong.
I was so wrong it was only right.
“Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me not to touch you here . . .” Pausing, I slid my finger from her cheek to her shoulder. “Tell me not to touch you here . . .” Gliding lower, I dragged my fingertip over her nipple, just barely touching, but just enough pressure she knew where I was. “Tell me not to save you and to let you die in the hands of a man I can see you despise.”
Ivy's chest lurched, jumping as she inhaled an audible gasp. Licking her bottom lip, she bit down hard. Her eyes stayed shut, fingers gripping tight around the chain of the handcuffs.
“Let me give you something to help you relax, let me take your mind off everything for a second.” My finger slid down between her tits, circling her mound.
The urge to bring life back into the depleted eyes of this woman, whose face was filled with sorrow and body was damaged began to consume me.
Every move her body made I watched carefully. There was nothing there to tell me she didn't want this. I wanted to pleasure her, I wanted to give her a release that would help her calm down.
She had been through enough tonight, and all I wanted was to give her something good to remember.
Rubbing my finger up and down the fabric where her pussy was hidden, she pinched her eyes tighter. Ivy wasn't allowing herself to look at me, and I didn't like that.
“Open your eyes, Ivy. Look at me.”
Shaking her head no, her lip tugged in harder.
“Look. At. Me,” I demanded.
No wasn't an option.
Slowly her eyes peeled open, head rolling to meet my gaze.
“Good. Now you need to tell me very clearly, do you want me to stop?” Pushing down for a brief second on her clit, I curled my fingers around her thigh. “Tell me, do you want me stop?”
Her head twisted just a hair side to side.
“Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
Ivy's voice was a whisper. “No.”
“Louder, I can't hear you. Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
Slipping my fingers under the dress, I gently walked them up her thigh. “Can I give you this?”
Her lids expanded, eyes darting between mine with confusion.
Pressing between her heated lips, I slid my finger up and down her slit. She was soaked, her pussy drenching with need. Twirling around her clit, Ivy's back arched, head falling back.
Her moan was erotic, slowly drawing out over her tongue. “Fuck,” she breathed out, her thighs squeezing around my hand as every muscle in her body tensed.
“I'll take that as a yes. Th
is is for you, and only you.”
Teasing the opening, her hands tugged down on the cuffs, thighs opening easily as I played with her hot cunt.
Fuck I wanted to be in there. I wanted to tear the damn dress off her body, throw her legs open and slam my cock deep inside.
But not yet, she needed this.
A delicate moan escaped her lips, her eyes crinkled at the corners, prickles jumping across her skin. Rocking her hips, she tried to guide me inside.
“You like that. I knew you would.” Flicking her clit, her thighs clamped around my hand. “I can take this slow or I can send you over the fucking edge right now. I'm in charge, I control this.”
Her eyes fell on mine, head nodding gently.
My cock was solid, crushing the engorged head into my pants. Stroking my shaft over the fabric, I felt like I could pop already and I wasn't even inside her.
Her back arched deep, ass pressing further into the mattress. Hovering around her entrance, I let my finger slip in. Her moan was loud, needy, yearning for a good fuck.
And I wanted to give her that, give her every inch of my dick I could stuff deep inside her.
This is only for her, Dante.
You'll have her, just not yet.
I had to remind myself of what I was doing. Ivy had been so fucking tense, so worked up, she was in need of this way more than I was.
Gyrating her hips, I slid my finger all the way inside. Thumbing her clit, I let her fuck my finger. Her pussy was growing wetter, clenching around my hand like she needed it to live.
Ivy's breathing became short and erratic. Her moans were drawn out, pussy pulsing as I drove her to the edge of insanity. Pinching her nipple, the hardened bead perked, igniting a fiercer yell from her lips.
She was so close I could feel it. Her clit had swelled, pulsing against the pad of my thumb as I circled the sensitive button.
And then I felt her. I felt her muscles tighten, going rigid and stiff. Her spine dipped, chest lifting to the ceiling. Her skin grew red, flushing as it warmed.
Grabbing her throat, I squeezed, applying just enough pressure to help intensify what her body was about to go through. Ivy's head fell back, lids snapping shut. A quick gasp hit her lips as the world around us faded away.
It was crazy what a little aggressive coddling could do to someone if delivered at just the right moment. If she was looking for vanilla territory . . . She wouldn't find it here.
I liked to push the boundaries.
The pressure would make her heart pump harder, her lungs would strain to get the air they needed.
And as her body was fighting for what it desperately wanted, the sensation would build and explode through her small frame.
Ivy's eyes started to gloss over, her mouth forming a perfect O as she lifted her neck into my hand and pushed it harder into her throat. Squeezing down with my thumb and fingers, her back was curved, thighs trembling. The orgasm grew and melted over her body as her pussy clenched around my finger and her muscles went limp.
The convulsion her body made was not only visible, but I felt it ride my arm, hitting my dick with raw desire. I was going to fuck her—not now—but when she was ready.
This was just a taste of what I could give her. A sense of release that she needed in order to succumb to what I wanted.
Her pussy would call for me, it would desire me.
She would need me to keep going.
She would need me to live.
And I would help her to realize that.
Nine
Ivy
Rolling to my side, a slight shimmer of day break peeked through the curtains. A sharp pain hit my shoulders as I stretched my arms above my head.
My arms are free. I'm not cuffed anymore.
Sitting up straight, I rubbed my arms and rocked them side to side. I was sore as shit, but at least I wasn't confined to the bed. I wasn't sure when Dante removed them, I must have been out cold.
Oh, thank God. Shaking my shoulders loose, I looked around.
The room was still shadowed, slowly coming to life as my eyes adjusted to the low lighting. I was alone. The door was shut, but Dante wasn't here.
It was strange to wake up and feel the way I did. I felt sad that what happened wasn't just a dream, and at the same time, I was happy to not wake up in Remo's bed. A part of me was wishing that Dante was beside me, holding me gently like he had last night.
I didn't expect that from him, but I welcomed it.
His arms had wrapped my waist, his chest was pressed firmly into my back, and the last thing I remembered was his soft-spoken words.
'Things can be different, Ivy, they can always be different. Sometimes things aren't as bad as they look, try and look deeper.'
Just thinking about that moment again sent shivers up my spine. He was gentle, soothing me to sleep. The man who had ravished my body with just his touch, had shown me a glint of his softer side.
I wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Did he mean he was different? Was he talking about this entire hell that had blanketed my small town world?
And to make it all even harder to grasp, my insides were tearing up and fraying with raw emotion . . . Feelings, real true feelings.
It was all too confusing to process and understand.
How do you crave your captor and despise him all in the same breath?
Last night was the first time any man had made me come like that. He touched me in just the right way, he caressed me with a tender and strong hand. I might still be a virgin but I'd had a few experiences to know that he had done it perfectly.
What I didn't expect was how fucking turned on I got when he gripped my throat. That was a whole new level of sensations I never imagined.
My body had come to life, it was amazing. I felt the orgasm in my toes, my stomach, my head. Tingles had surged through every part of me, and the resonant tone of the music my body played was still sitting right there. I'd never felt anything like it.
And now the curiosity was dripping around my brain, making me wonder.
What more could he do to me?
There was a glint of hope in my eyes; I wasn't trapped to the headboard anymore, maybe I was able to make him feel something more for me than he expected.
Maybe he would let me go.
I couldn't ignore there was something between us, a raw emotion that surged like wild fire. I was still floating from the orgasm, my body was loose and relaxed.
Balling my fists, I dug them into my eyes and rubbed them hard. I had no clue what the hell I was feeling, but I felt different.
Flipping the blanket off my body, I let my feet slip to the cold wood floor. And that's when I felt it, the chain locked around my ankle.
Fuck.
Obviously what happened wasn't enough to gain any sort of trust from him. He didn't trust I wouldn't run, and for right now I was okay with that.
Could I tell you why? No.
But the urge to flee had subsided. There was a sense of safety with Dante that I couldn't explain. He had saved me.
Twice.
My life with Remo fucking sucked. And even though I wasn't here by choice, I still felt safe, untouchable. Safer than I was outside these walls, safer than I'd ever be with the man who bought my body.
As I sat on the edge of the bed, I swept my feet back and forth against the floor. My fingers slipped over the fabric of my borrowed dress, tracing the designs.
It really was a beautiful dress. The deep blue reminded me of the ocean on a bright day, the small flowers speckled over the skirt had a touch of an oriental hand.
Whose it was and where it came from started to twirl around inside my head. It could have come from another captive woman, or it could have been worn by someone who hadn't seen the light of day in years.
Whoever this belonged to obviously didn't need it anymore.
The thought made me cringe. Because I could easily have the same fate, I could disappear tonight and this dress could end up on someone else tomorrow.<
br />
The door creaked open over my shoulder, knocking me out of the horrible images plaguing my mind. “You're awake, good. Want breakfast?” Holding a plate, Dante walked over and placed it on the bed. His broad shoulders were tucked snugly into a fitted black t-shirt, jeans replaced the gray pants from last night.
I felt myself start to blush, my skin warming to his presence. He had touched me, he had given me the best orgasm of my fucking life. My sex began to tingle, growing wet again with just the sight of him.
Still stroking the dress, there was an overwhelming need to know where it came from. I wasn't sure if I was going to like the answer or not, but I couldn't keep wearing it if it was a garment of darkness.
“Whose dress is this?”
“Doesn't matter.” Walking to the bed, he stopped as he watched my eyes scan the silky blue material.
“Did it belong to someone who's dead?”
Frowning, his eyes tore from mine. “Yes.”
“Did you kill her?”
“No.” Snapping his head back up, his face was intense and serious. “Enough questions—here, eat.”
I had struck a nerve. But pressing him about it could end ugly, so I stopped. I didn't need to cause myself any more beatings . . . Or worse. I've seen what he could do.
Smiling with thin lips, I shook my head. “I'm still not hungry.”
“You need to at least try and eat something.” Pushing the plate closer, he sat opposite of me on the bed. “It's mostly canned fruit, and I threw on a few crackers. We don't have much here, I'm never usually here this long without prepping for it.”
His body language changed, muscles relaxing as he let my wonder and curiosity slip away.
But I couldn't look him in the eyes, there was more I needed to say. A tender flutter stormed my stomach, making me feel like I had to say something about what had happened between us. “Look, last night—”
Holding his hand up, Dante cut me off. “Was for you.” His thumb brushed under his strong jaw, rubbing the stubble. “You don't need to explain it away, just let it be.”
“I . . .” Glancing around at everything but him, I said firmly, “I just don't want you to get the wrong idea. I was emotional, scared, had a gun pointed at my face . . . I wasn't thinking straight.” Finally letting my eyes connect with his, I swear I saw a shimmer of disappointment glaze his eyes.