Page 9 of Control (Dark Syndicate #1)

Daniela

“My name is Daniela,” I snap, turning to glare at him. “I’ve told you. I don’t do nicknames.”

He smirks, slow and infuriating, like he’s savoring the way I bristle. His eyes sweep over me, deliberate and unapologetic. “But Dolcezza suits you,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost playful. “And I think you like it more than you’ll admit.”

I don’t answer. I can’t. Because maybe, just maybe, he’s right. And that thought terrifies me more than anything.

He laughs again like he’s savoring a private joke. It’s the kind of laugh that scrunches his face just slightly but not enough to mar it. Remo Callegari is incapable of being anything less than infuriatingly perfect. He could wear a burlap sack or shave his head on a dare, and it wouldn’t matter.

He’s always pristine. Tailored suits, polished watch, and his cologne—God, his cologne—that clings to the air long after he’s gone. As if mocking me.

“I think you like whatever I call you,” he says.

“You love it even. I see it in the way your breath hitches when I lean in. And the little sighs you let slip when you think I’m not listening.

You like my attention, Dolcezza. So don’t pretend otherwise.

We both know that’s the least of your problems.”

The worst part is he’s right. My body betrays me in ways I can’t control. It’s a flaw, a cruel defect in my wiring.

I glance back at the scene in front of me, desperate for a distraction.

The man kneels between the woman’s thighs now, his hands spreading them apart with a hunger that feels almost reverent. He sucks in a breath as he stares down at her swollen clit.

His face is close, so close, and when his tongue flicks out, she bucks her hips toward him, a soundless plea for more.

And I hate the fact that I feel it too. That my body is betraying me in the same way hers is betraying her.

“Why? Are you opposed to small talk, Daniela?” His voice is playful, mocking, like he knows the storm raging in my head.

I don’t answer. I can’t. Because if I open my mouth, I’ll give too much away.

So I do the only thing I can. I pretend.

I pretend he isn’t here and that his presence doesn’t twist me into knots I don’t know how to untangle.

I pretend the heat pooling in my stomach is just the room, the scene, and the overwhelming absurdity of it all.

But even as I try to convince myself that I’m not affected, I can’t shake the feeling of how close he is to me. And the worst part? It seems like he already knows how this is all going to play out.

“Hello? Earth to Daniela! Are you there?” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

“Why would you want to talk about a sex room?” I reply, my voice a mix of disbelief and defiance.

“Isn’t it turning you on?” His smirk twists wickedly as he says this, as though he’s enjoying every second of it.

“No!” I retort a little too quickly.

He chuckles, slow and indulgent, like he’s savoring the moment. That sound both annoys me and sends a strange thrill through me at the same time. He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes locked onto mine in a way that feels way too personal, almost like he can see right through me.

“Come on, Daniela,” he says, leaning in a bit closer. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little curious.”

I roll my eyes. “Curious? Sure. But it doesn’t mean I’m interested.”

“Right,” he replies, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Just like I’m sure you don’t enjoy sex. Who are you trying to convince here?”

I can’t help but laugh a little, even though I want to be serious. “Okay, fine. Maybe I like sex. But it doesn’t mean I want it every day.”

“Ah, but sometimes a little indulgence is good for the soul,” he says, winking.

I glance back at the scene in front of us. The man now has two fingers buried inside her, and they curl upward with a precision that makes her back arch. She thrusts her hips to meet his rhythm, her breathless gasps filling the room.

He lowers his mouth to her clit, his tongue moving in slow, calculated strokes. Her entire body shivers under his touch, and I clamp a hand over my thigh, digging my nails in just to stay grounded.

“Oh, you’re so fucking turned on, aren’t you, Dolcezza?”

I need to leave. Now. Before I let him break me down, just like he promised he would. Before I lose myself completely.

Why does he have so much power over me? Why do I cling to it? Ache for it? One look, one word, and I’m undone. It’s pathetic. Worse than pathetic.

I glance at him, sitting there so casually. It’s like he knows he’s already won. And maybe he has. My body is a traitor, my thoughts a mess.

“I’m not,” I whisper, half to him, half to myself, as if saying it enough times will make it true. “I’m not turned on by this.”

“What is it, then?” His question is a trap, one I almost walk into before the man in front slaps the woman’s ass. The sound cracks through the room, sharp and electric. She gasps —half in shock, half in pleasure—and my thighs press together instinctively.

Another slap. Harder. She writhes against him, her pleasure undeniable, and he bends down, licking the red welts with a satisfaction that borders on cruel.

Fuck. That’s unbelievably hot.

“You’re so quiet,” Remo murmurs. His voice is velvet over steel, cutting through my spiraling thoughts.

I turn to glare at him, desperate to reclaim some sense of control, but his hand is already brushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

His touch is light, almost casual, but it sets off a chain reaction I can’t stop.

“Are you enjoying it that much?” he asks, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. “You can tell me. Maybe you’d like us to put on a show of our own. Right here. Right now.”

I want to snap at him, to deny it with every ounce of indignation I can muster. But when I open my mouth to protest, no sound comes out. And I hate that it makes him chuckle.

I turn back to the couple. They’ve escalated. The man’s movements are now more fervent, more demanding. Her cries grow louder, and I feel the heat rise in my face, my body betraying me yet again.

Remo leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. His hand rests on the back of my neck, his fingers just grazing my skin, sending shivers racing down my spine.

I catch myself fighting the pull of attraction.

Yet the part of me that has always been drawn to the bad boy type—the kind that promises nothing but trouble—starts to overpower my judgment as I lean toward him.

“Fuck, the things I want to do to you, Dolcezza,” he breathes, his voice thick with intent.

“I want to taste you, lick you until you’re shaking, slide my fingers inside you, and feel you dripping for me.

And when you’re begging for more, I’ll give it to you.

I’ll fill you so deep that you’ll forget your own name. ”

It’s not just the words. It’s the way he says them, possessive and unrelenting. His tone wraps around me like a physical thing, squeezing the air from my lungs.

It’s as if he’s already touching me, and I hate that I want him to. Hate that his voice alone has me trembling. I squeeze my thighs tighter, desperate to stop the pull, but it’s no use.

And he knows it.

My hands slide down to my panties, and I’m shocked to find that I’m wet already, so I let my fingers dip under the material and circle my clit, teasing it. I bite back a moan as he continues to whisper in my ear, his voice commanding and sexy and alluring.

“I’m going to kiss your neck, right under your ear, and then I’m going to slide my tongue down your neck and throat. I’m going to suck your collarbone, bite your shoulder, and mark your skin so everyone will know you belong to me.”

My breath comes out in short pants, my fingers moving faster as I get more and more aroused. I’m not thinking about who is listening and hearing every little whimper and moan that is escaping my lips. All I can think about is him. His voice, his eyes, his body. Him.

“Are you wet for me, baby?” he growls, and I whimper, the sound coming out without my permission.

“Yes,” I moan. “So wet. So fucking wet.”

“God,” he growls. “You are driving me crazy. I can’t wait to sink my dick into your tight pussy, baby. It’s going to feel so good, so wet. And hot. Jesus, it’s going to be amazing. You’re gonna squeeze me, aren’t you? You’re gonna milk my cock with your cunt.”

“Yes,” I whimper. “God, yes.”

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good, aren’t you, baby?”

“I…I…” I’m gasping for air now. My entire body is on fire. My orgasm is right there. All it’s going to take is a few more strokes of my fingers and a few more words from him.

“I want to be in your cunt when you come, Dolcezza,” he demands. “Do it. Now. Come. Come for me. Now!”

I gasp, arching my back as my body shatters into a million pieces, and his name spills from my lips. Over and over and over. I can’t stop, and I don’t want to. I ride the waves of pleasure, my mind shutting off, my body taking over.

It’s the most amazing, incredible orgasm I’ve ever had, and it’s only because of his words.

That’s when he leans over and kisses me.

His kiss is rough and demanding, his tongue exploring mine with an urgency that takes my breath away.

His hand slides up the back of my neck, tangling in my hair and pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us.

I moan against his lips, lost in the sensation of being held like this.

The kiss makes me dizzy, stirring a deep craving for more.

When he finally pulls back, he looks at me, his eyes a fiery mix of lust and mischief. “You taste so fucking good, Daniela. I can only imagine how much better you’d taste everywhere else.”

He kisses me again, coaxing my lips apart with his tongue and igniting a fire within me that I can’t ignore. “That’s it, princess,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Let me taste every part of you.”

And before I know it, he’s slipping his fingers into my panties and seeking out my clit. I gasp as his fingers find the sensitive bud and rub slow, sensual circles that send shockwaves of pleasure through my body.

“Please,” I beg. “Please, please, please.” I’m not sure what I’m begging for, but I know I need something. More of him. More of this.

His fingers continue to stroke my clit, building my arousal to new heights. I writhe and squirm, my hips bucking against his hand, desperate for more.

“Please what, baby?” he murmurs.

“Please, fuck me,” I beg, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Please, fuck me. Fuck me with your big cock. Fuck me until I can’t remember my own name. Until all I can think about is you.”

He chuckles darkly, his fingers still working my clit.

“Tell me you like the name, Dolcezza,” he demands.

I hesitate. He’s already pushed my limits, but this is something else entirely.

“Tell me,” he repeats.

“I like the name,” I murmur.

“You like what?”

“Dolcezza. I like it.”

He groans. “I knew you would. You’re going to make me so happy, baby. Now, say the other thing.”

I take a deep breath. “Please, fuck me, Remo.”

“Mmmm. That’s right. I’m going to fuck you, baby.

I’m going to fuck you so hard and so deep.

I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.

Until all you can think about is my cock.

And when you can’t take any more, I’m going to come inside you and fill you up with my cum.

Mark you as mine. Would you like that, princess? ”

“Y—yes,” I stammer, barely able to breathe.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Remo. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me with your cum. I want to belong to you. I’m yours.”

Then, he continues, his voice rough. “I’ll spill my load on your tits and in your mouth. And then I’ll watch you swallow it all down. Suffice to say, I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.”

The man in front of us has his face buried in the woman’s pussy, lapping at her clit while she wriggles and moans loudly.

A shiver runs down my spine. “Are…are you gonna kill me?”

He doesn’t hesitate when he answers, “No, I won’t. You’re my pet now. Why would I want to kill my sweet little pet?”

The casual certainty in his tone steals my breath. My chest tightens, and I force myself to respond, even though the words come out in a rush. “So I’m just going to be your…fuck buddy?”

His laughter is deep, rich, and maddening. “You misunderstand me, princess.” He leans in closer, his voice dipping lower, more dangerous. “I’ll fuck you whenever I want, however I want, but you’re not my buddy. You’re a pet. Mine.”

Before I can retort, he releases me, and I stumble out of his grasp and collapse onto the cold, unforgiving floor. My hands press against the ground, and I steady myself as I look up at him.

Remo rises from his seat with an almost lazy grace, licking his lips like a predator who knows the hunt is far from over. He shakes his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

“Clear out!” he barks, his voice sharp and commanding.

The couple in front of us freezes, their moment of passion abruptly interrupted. The man carefully helps the woman out of her restraints, and together, they exit the room without so much as a backward glance.

Now, it’s just me and him.

I sit back on my heels, my body taut with conflicting emotions—rage, fear, and an unwelcome, undeniable heat. He’s watching me, his stare heavy and unrelenting.

He taps the top of his nose with two fingers, a mocking gesture that feels like he’s peeling back my defenses layer by layer.

“I know women like you,” he says, his tone laced with quiet menace.

“You think you’re better than everyone else.

Strong-willed. Stubborn. Trying to prove a point to the world. ”

He steps closer, his boots echoing ominously on the floor.

“But believe me, princess, I’ve broken men far stronger than you.

And you?” He crouches in front of me, so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

His voice drops when he adds, “I will break you. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”