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But Dante wasn’t listening. His hold on her tightened, and he carried her effortlessly toward the car. With a forceful shove, he threw her into the passenger seat.
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" she gritted out, pushing against him in an attempt to escape, but he leaned over, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back against the leather seat.
He kissed her fiercely, pressing his lips hard against hers, demanding and urgent. His tongue slipped between her lips, licking her lower lip again and again, tasting her sweetness, claiming her mouth as his own. She tried to pull away, but his hand tightened on her jaw, tilting her head so she couldn’t escape.
Her breath hitched, shallow and ragged as he crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing every gasp, every protest. His voice rumbled low and dangerous against her skin, “Make another sound, and I swear to God, I’ll fuck you right here in this fucking car.”
“Are you out of your mind?” she hissed, trying to push him away. “This is a public place—"
Before she could finish, he was on her again, kissing her fiercely, shutting her words down with his lips. When he pulled back this time, he looked into her eyes, his gaze burning with challenge.
"Keep talking. I fucking dare you, Anya. Keep talking.”
Anya’s mouth snapped shut. As furious as she was, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, huffed loudly, and turned her face away from him.
Dante didn’t move. He gently turned her face back to his, his eyes scanning her expression. Seeing the fury still etched on her face, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before pulling out of the car.
She roughly wiped away the trace of his kiss, growling in frustration.
Dante slid into the driver's seat and started the car, pulling away.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked after a moment.
Anya didn’t respond. She sat with her arms crossed, eyes locked on the window as if he didn’t exist.
"Anya," he gritted out, his voice harder this time.
But she ignored him completely, her eyes still fixed on the world outside.
Then her phone dinged with a text. She glanced down, saw Luca’s name, and opened the message.
‘Did you leave already? I brought the car around to take you home with me, but I couldn’t find you.’
Anya frowned slightly, her fingers starting to type a reply.
"Anya, look at me," Dante growled, his patience running thin.
But she didn't even acknowledge he was there.
"Anya?!" he snapped again, but she was completely focused on replying to Luca.
“I left—” she started to type.
Suddenly, Dante snatched the phone from her hand and glanced at the screen. The nameLucastared back at him.
His jaw clenched. His entire body grew rigid. With a sharp motion, he tossed the phone into the backseat, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he sped off.
"Now you're going to control my phone conversations too?" she snapped, twisting in her seat to reach for it.
He grabbed her wrist mid-motion, turning her around to face him—one hand driving, the other gripping her tightly.
“This is your last fucking chance to pay attention to me,” he growled, his voice low and lethal. “If I see you give that phone, or anyone else, another fucking second of your attention, we’re going straight to a hotel. I’m going fuck my anger out on you until you remember who you belong to. Andthen—we’ll have that goddamn talk.”
"Stop the car!" she spat, her voice full of defiance. "I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Stop it right now."
The car screeched to a halt.
Anya unbuckled and threw the door open, jumping out. But before she could get far, she heard footsteps storming after her. The next second, she was in the air again—this time carried in his arms.