Page 55

A hand. Firm and large, clasping over her mouth.

Panic.

Her body writhed, breath trapped in her chest. Arms flailing, kicking back, muffled screams lost in a palm.

The voice behind her was dark velvet.

"Shhh, bella."

Her eyes widened.

That voice.

He pulled her flush against his chest. Muscles, heat, familiarity. She blinked once, twice, and finally he let her go.

"Dante!" she gasped, spinning to face him, heart pounding beneath her ribs.

He stood there like a shadow pulled from her nightmares and fantasies alike.

Black shirt unbuttoned halfway, revealing the ink etched over his chest, his collarbone.

His hair was windswept, darker in the sun, and his eyes-those abyssal storms-devoured her whole.

"You..." she panted, flustered and angry and relieved. "You scared me!"

His grin was wicked. "Good."

She smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Don't do that again!"

He caught her wrist midair and brought it to his lips. "You were too far from me. And wearing this..." His eyes dropped to her body. Hunger simmered behind that stare. "I should kill the guards for even glimpsing you like this."

She blinked. "Wait-what happened to the guards?"

"I dismissed them."

"What?" she gasped.

"No one gets to look at you in that bikini but me," he said calmly, as if it were law. "Did you really think I wouldn't have my eyes on you? The moment I saw you in this bikini, I lost it."

"You're insane."

"This insane man is all yours."

He tugged her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist, dragging her against his hard chest.

The sun seemed to fade around them, as if even the elements understood who truly ruled her world.

"I missed you," he murmured against her ear, voice low and possessive.

"You left me," she said quietly, lips brushing his throat.

"To protect you. But I can't stay away for too long."

Their mouths collided-hot, breathless, angry, and desperate.

Her fingers clutched at his shirt, digging into the muscle beneath, while his hands roamed like they were starving, memorizing every inch of her sun-kissed body.

"Right here?" she whispered against his lips.

"Right here." He didn't even hesitate.

He dropped to the sand with her, the wind catching her giggle as he kissed her neck, her shoulder, the hollow beneath her ribs.

The ocean watched like a voyeur, and the sky blushed.

Their mouths collided hot, breathless, angry, and desperate.

Her fingers clutched at his shirt, digging into the muscle beneath, while his hands roamed like they were starving, memorizing every inch of her sun-kissed body.

The kiss turned darker, deeper, a storm crashing through them both. His hands gripped her thighs and lifted her with ease.

She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively as he carried her toward the palm-shaded canopy set near the shore.

There, on a soft lounge chair with silk cushions and shade fluttering overhead, he laid her down.

The golden straps of her bikini slid off her shoulders with practiced fingers, his mouth following their path, leaving heat and shivers.

"You think I don't dream of this every night?" he rasped, voice coarse against her skin. "You spread out beneath me, golden and perfect, where no one else can ever touch you."

She reached for him, fingertips trailing along his chest, feeling the steady thunder of his pulse. "I think you missed me."

"I did." His mouth captured hers again, rougher now, his body pressing her deeper into the cushions. "every single minute I missed you."

He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other sliding slowly, cruelly down her ribs, hips, thighs until she gasped.

He watched every twitch, every helpless sigh like a predator savoring his kill.

"You don't get to hide from me," he growled, his voice a command and a curse. "Not your body. Not your pleasure. Not your fear."

She trembled beneath him, caught in the center of his storm. His touch wasn't gentle-it was deliberate.

He left marks, bit the inside of her thigh, and stared at the bruise forming like it was art.

"I want you marked by me," he whispered against her skin. "So no matter how far I go, you'll remember whose you are."

Their bodies clashed like war-his dominance complete, hers unraveling. Her moans turned to pleas, but not to stop. Never to stop.

When he finally entered her, it wasn't soft. It was a claim violent, raw, possessive. He moved slow only to watch her writhe, then fast to break her open again.

His hands never let go. He whispered filth into her ear-dark promises, brutal love, truths she shouldn't crave but did.

And when she shattered beneath him, he held her still and followed her over the edge, biting into her shoulder hard enough to leave teeth.

Afterward, he didn't let her go. He wrapped her in his shirt, pulled her into his lap as if shielding her from the world-even though he was the world.

She was shaking, eyes dazed.

"You're mad," she whispered.

He kissed her temple. "Only for you."