Page 2 of Possessed (Darker Steamy Shorts #2)

DANTE

T wo years haven't changed Isla Cross at all. If anything, it's only made her more irresistible.

The last time I saw her was at a charity dinner that I was invited to attend. Her father was there, too, and he had brought his daughter as his plus one.

I had noticed her laugh first, high and clear and genuine, not quiet and controlled like everyone else who was too concerned with appearances.

I remember turning, immediately forgetting whatever investor I was talking to, and being captivated.

In a room full of carefully polished and put-together people, Isla was so bright and alive that she almost didn't seem real.

Her hair was caught in a single band, curling down her back, shimmering honey-blond instead of dyed platinum.

Isla is petite, and the royal blue, floor-length dress she wore was modest enough for the event, but showed me how sinfully curvy she is.

Apart from everything else, it was her sweet, heart-shaped face that had me bordering on obsession before we even spoke a word to each other.

Her dress brought out her eyes like two sapphires, and her lips were glossy pink, full and bow-shaped as she laughed.

She was beautiful, but not in the same way most women are.

There was an innocence to Isla, a warmth, and as I watched her interact with her father, I could see how much she cared about him.

It told me Isla loved and cared with her entire heart, and I knew from that moment forward that I wanted that love all for myself.

When she'd walked into the bistro less than an hour ago, her dress had been shorter, but I sure as hell wasn't going to complain about being able to see the length of her long, shapely legs.

Her hair was loose, tumbling around her shoulders.

She was stunning. And when I finally saw the sparkle of fear in her eyes when she looked at me, I was filled with a possessiveness I'd never felt before.

I've always liked pretty things. Beautiful things. That's why I have the house I do, the cars, the yacht, the contracts I make people sign. But with Isla, I don't want to simply own her. I don't want to just admire her. I want to devour her. I want her to be mine. And now she is.

Isla is quiet as she eats, and I can see her stealing glances at me under her long lashes.

I can tell she's dying to ask me a million things, but that's all going to have to wait.

Getting her back to my penthouse and settled in is my top priority.

I can't give her too long to mull over what the contract she's signed really means, or she might balk.

Isla won't be able to get away from me, but this will be much more enjoyable for both of us if she comes along willingly.

I ordered for both of us, filets with au gratin potatoes and asparagus, and I'm happy to see that she eats without complaint. She's less enthusiastic about the wine, but that's okay. I'll learn her preferences soon enough.

Once we're done, I stand up first, offering her my hand.

She looks at it like it's a snake about to strike, but slowly reaches out and lets me help her to her feet.

It's the longest touch we've exchanged thus far, and the energy crackles like a live wire.

There is a measure of bravery in my Isla that I'm coming to recognize, and it pleases me greatly.

There are no tears, very few complaints, and her hand on my arm isn't exactly relaxed, but she isn't stiff with fear, either.

I keep my hand on hers as we exit the restaurant. Outside, a sleek black car is waiting, and my driver comes around to open the door. Isla hesitates, looking up at me.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice quiet.

"Your new home for the next three months. My penthouse overlooking Elliot Bay."

Isla swallows and looks away as she folds herself into the vehicle.

I follow, and she doesn't respond until the door is shut and we're on the road.

"I guess I was holding on to hope that when you said 'live with you', you meant on a property you own or something.

But we're really staying in the same apartment, huh? "

"Yes. But I'll let you use the guest room for the first week or so."

Her head whips towards me, her jewel-toned eyes wide. "What happens after the first week?"

I laugh quietly, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

She opens her mouth to respond, but I shake my head, cutting her off. "No more questions. You can see your new room once we arrive. And you can sleep there for the time being. Then tomorrow we'll get your new life in order.

"My new life? This is just for a few months!"

"I think I've made myself clear, Isla," I say warningly, despite being secretly pleased at the fire she's showing. "The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth right now is 'thank you'."

"But—"

I raise an eyebrow at her, and she closes her mouth, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. A flush rises to her cheeks, and I watch as she fights with herself to respond the way I told her to. I can almost see her mind racing.

Isla's lips press together, then part again. She breathes out, and then says, "Thank you, Dante."

"You're welcome. It'll take some getting used to, but you're learning quickly."

Her jaw clenches, and she stares out the window. I don't mind the silence. It gives me plenty of time to think about all the things I plan to do to her once she's settled in.

The rest of the drive passes without incident, and by the time we arrive at my penthouse, Isla seems to have calmed down a bit.

I let her go ahead of me into the elevator, watching the sway of her hips, the way her dress hugs her ass.

I'm not going to be able to control myself much longer, and I want her to come to me of her own free will.

"This is a very fancy building," she says as we ride up to the top floor.

"It's convenient. Not too far from downtown, but far enough away from the hustle and bustle that it's quiet. Plus, there's a pool on the roof."

"I like to swim," she admits. "Dad and I used to go to the lake during the summer."

I file away that piece of information for later. There are plenty of situations involving Isla, water, and seriously small swimsuits that appeal to me.

When the elevator doors open, Isla hesitates, but I place a hand at the small of her back, nudging her forward into the hall.

My penthouse is the only one on the top floor, so there's no chance of someone coming out of their unit and running into us.

It's late enough that most people are in bed, anyway.

I unlock the front door, holding it open for Isla and letting her walk past me into the foyer.

Her heels click on the marble floors, echoing through the room as I lock the door behind us.

I let her take in the place, satisfied at her small gasp.

I've put no small amount of effort into making my living space mine, and I'm pleased that she's noticed.

The ceilings are high, vaulted, and decorated with intricate designs, and the windows overlooking the city are huge.

The entire penthouse is done in muted grey and brown tones, with accents of red throughout.

Bits of personality show through in the framed pieces of artwork and bookshelves crammed full of science fiction classics.

It's not just my home; it's a reflection of who I am.

"I'll give you a tour later," I say, gesturing for her to follow me. "But your room is this way."

I lead her to the guest bedroom, where a queen-sized bed has been made up with white sheets and a down comforter. A television is hanging on the wall, and the attached bathroom has a glass shower and a large tub.

She moves over to the window, looking out over the city. Her fingers trace lightly over the sill, and I take a moment to appreciate the way she looks in this room. In my home.

"Consider this your home, Isla. Use the entire penthouse to your heart's content.

I have a chef on staff for breakfast and dinner, and a housekeeper who comes by daily, but she's very discreet.

All I ask is that you inform me if you want to leave.

I won't always be available to accompany you, but I insist you travel with my driver when you do go out on your own. "

Isla turns towards me, folding her arms. "This is all … a bit much."

I smirk. "You haven't seen anything yet."

She huffs, but she doesn't press the issue. "What about my things?"

"They'll be delivered tomorrow. For now, there is some nightwear in the top drawer of the dresser that should fit. Feel free to shower, change, and get settled in." I turn to go, then pause, turning back. "Goodnight, Isla."

"Goodnight, Dante," she murmurs as I close the door behind me.

I have no intention of going to bed just yet, though.

Instead, I make my way into my bedroom, pulling off my jacket and unbuttoning my shirt as I go.

I don't bother to turn on a light, moving through the space with ease, even in the dark.

Triumph is coursing through me, along with the unbreakable self-control I'm going to have to carry now that my prize is under my roof.

Fuck, I can almost smell her still and recall the softness of her skin from when her hand was in mine.

I stop at the mini bar, pouring myself a drink.

I mean to savor the scotch, but I'm too on edge, and I throw it back, savoring the burn in my throat as I work open my belt.

I'm not sure I've ever been harder in my life, and I've barely touched her yet, but I need to come if I'm going to be able to keep my hands to myself. I don't want to rush this.

As I slide my boxers off, my cock springs free, standing at attention.

I wrap my hand around the shaft, letting out a quiet groan as I start to stroke myself.

I picture Isla the moment I first saw her, and then how she looked biting her lip as she signed herself away to me for the next three months.

I imagine her beneath me, how her legs will feel wrapped around my waist as I fuck her, how her mouth will look stretched wide around my cock, her eyes staring up at me, bright and shimmering.

I stroke myself faster, my fist tightening as I move up and down my length. It doesn't take long, and soon enough I'm spilling into my hand, my entire body shuddering with the force of my orgasm. I groan again as I lean back against the wall, closing my eyes and reveling in the blissful aftermath.

I know that I won't be satisfied until I have Isla, but I can wait. She'll be begging me to fuck her before long. And then she'll be mine, in every single way.