Page 57

Now it’s something else entirely.
And we’re both standing too close to the fire to walk away unscathed.
Dahlia
I waketo the sound of choking.
Not mine.
His.
Dante thrashes beside me, soaked in sweat, his breaths jagged, panicked. Moonlight cuts across his face and I see the anguish. His lips part like he’s trying to speak. A name slips out between clenched teeth. “Rina.”
His sister.
My chest seizes.
“Dante,” I whisper, brushing damp hair from his forehead. He jerks again, and I press my hands gently to his cheeks. “Wake up. Come back.”
His eyes fly open, wild and unmoored.
He grabs my wrists, hard—reflex more than intention. But the second he sees, seesme, something in him crumbles.
“I’m here,” I murmur. “Just me.”
His jaw clenches. “She was screaming,” he says hoarsely. “I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t fucking move. They made me—made mewatch.”
“I know,” I say, even though I don’t. Not really.
But I feel it. In every line of his body, the way he’s unraveling beneath the surface. Powerless. Trapped. Haunted.
And maybe I’m selfish, or maybe I’m just as broken—but I need him inside me. I need to pull him out of his head and into mine. Need to give him something to control when he’s drowning in things he can’t.
“Let me help,” I whisper, guiding his hand to my throat. “Take what you need. Master me, Sir. Destroy me.”
His gaze flickers. Something fierce blooms behind it. His fingers tighten and his cock thickens. Surges.
“On your knees,” he rasps.
My pulse kicks.
I slide down the sheets and kneel at the edge of the bed. Naked. Waiting. Wanting.
“Hands behind your back.”
I obey. Breathless and grateful.
His cock is hard, jutting from the dark V of his hips, and when I lean forward to take him into my mouth, no preamble. All gloried surrender.
He hisses through his teeth.
“Fuck. That’s it,” he growls, fingers curling into my hair. Tight enough to sting and bruise. “Take your goddamn penance, little thief.”
I hum around his length, hollowing my cheeks, licking along the underside of his engorged cock until his grip tightens.
“Christ. You’re so fucking good at this,” he mutters. “Like you weremadeto be on your knees for me.”
I moan, gag slightly as he pushes deeper.