Page 28

His expression is lazy, and his eyes struggle to stay on my face. Eventually, Remo glances down at my body and chuckles—a rich, low sound that shouldn’t be as addictive as it is. It is dangerous, like him, because it makes me want to stay. To listen. To hear him do it again.

“You have an amazing body, Dolcezza,” he says quietly, his eyes darting between my hardened nipples. Damn it. This isn’t supposed to happen. I hate him with every part of me, yet his devilish smile makes me feel hot and needy. “Would you ever disobey me again?”

“No.”

Remo isn’t surprised by my quick reply. In fact, judging from his dark and brooding expression, it seems he expected me to disobey him, just waiting for a reason to punish me. Punishme. Shit. That shouldn’t turn me on, should it? I’m sweating all over from the way he looks at me and the words he hasn’t said but communicates with his hard brown eyes. Being punished by someone as ruthless as Remo should scare me, but instead, it excites me.

When he suddenly moves toward me and pulls me up against him, I can’t hold back the moan that slips from my lips.

I struggle for a few seconds to free my hands from his firm grip, but Remo doesn’t budge. Instead, he pulls me toward him with such force that I almost stumble forward, but he catches me with ease, as though I’m weightless.

My thoughts scatter, my body falls apart, but damn it, the man holding me hasn’t done anything to prove he’s capable of kindness, so why is how effortlessly he keeps me in his arms all I’m thinking about?

I can’t ignore the way his ruggedness hits me and the way his skin glistens under the dim light, his dark hair now looking softer with streaks of brown where the light hits. A lock of it falls across his forehead, but he doesn’t bother brushing it away. As I stare at him, I’m struck by the realization. This monster in front of me is stunning.

But Remo doesn’t hurt me the way I thought he might. Instead, he presses me back against the wall, his grip tightening as he lifts both my hands above my head and holds them still.

“Remo, wait.” I try to shove him off, but he doesn’t move. I like to think my workouts have made me stronger, but standing in front of a man like Remo makes me feel weak. The more I push to get him to back off, the stronger he seems to get. “You’re hurting me. Please…just stop. Screw you!”

“Ah.” His chuckle is deep and mocking. “I was wondering when you’d use that mouth of yours to spit out nonsense.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m going to enjoy fucking that mouth of yours, princess.”

He presses his body against mine, and I can feel the hardness of his cock straining against his pants. My mouth drops open. He’s looking at me with hunger in his eyes, and I know the same expression is reflected in my own. My goodness! His cock feels amazing, and I haven’t even touched it yet. Ever so gently, Remo drops his free hand to my belly and runs his fingers from my navel to the waistband of my panties.

“I…I have a…boyfriend!”

His inspection pauses, but only for a moment. His voice is raspy when he says, “You don’t have to lie. I ran a background check on you, princess. You have no boyfriend. Haven’t had one in years.”

He’s right. There is no boyfriend, but letting someone as dangerous as Remo touch and use me like one of his mistresses feels wrong. I gather all my strength and push against him. This time, I manage to loosen his hold, but it’s not enough to get him off completely.

“I know you don’t really want me,” I mutter, trying to push away from him.

He doesn’t budge, his grip tightening just enough to keep me in place but not enough to hurt. The slight shift is enough to make me feel his presence all around me, suffocating, inescapable.

I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he lets me slip just enough that I lose my balance and stumble forward. His laugh follows me, dark and mocking.

“If I didn’t want you, you wouldn’t have made it to this moment,” he says, his voice dangerous, the kind that sends a chill running down my spine. He steps closer, closing the gap between us again. His hand reaches out to steady me, but his fingers linger for longer than necessary as if he’s savoring the moment.

“Trust me,” he adds, his words like a promise. Or a warning. There’s something in the way he says it. Like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, exactly what’s running through my head.

I shoot him a glare, but it doesn’t faze him. His smile only grows, as if he enjoys the struggle. As if he knows I can’t escape him, no matter how much I try.

When he reaches for me, I raise my hands to defend myself. But he doesn’t care. His strength overpowers me, and he drags me to him.

My stomach lurches. And yet, there’s something inside me that can’t help but want this. It’s like he owns me now. Like he’s already branded me and marked me with the same scar that runs through his own soul. The need for power, the need to control, to destroy when it suits him, has somehow seeped into my veins.

I hate it. I hate him for making me feel this way.

“At this point, I think you should have figured that I’ll do whatever I want with you.”

Remo’s close enough to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything for a while. He starts his silent inspection again, looking down at me, his eyes shining in the dark. His long, pretty eyelashes catch my attention, and as I look up at him, I wonder what he’d look like if he were…softer. He steps away, licking his lower lip like he’s savoring something. “I want you to take off my shirt.”

“I don’t—”

“It’s not a question, Daniela. Take off my shirt.”