Page 5 of Possessed (Darker Steamy Shorts #2)

DANTE

I hold back for a week, and it's the longest fucking week of my life.

I knew Isla would give in to me the moment I grabbed her in the fitting room of the boutique, and she looked up at me with arousal and not fear. She liked that I was possessive with that prick of a tailor, and while she said she was scared, I knew it wasn't fear of me as a man.

It was the fear of how intense her hunger for me was. I knew exactly how she felt.

After eating her pussy that first afternoon, I limited myself to only using my mouth on her for a week.

Legally, Isla is stuck with me, and she'd probably have let me fuck her right after I made her come twice in my favorite leather chair after the fitting appointment.

But I want her to be begging me to fuck her, so there's no question that she wants this as bad as I do.

So I sleep with her in my arms, eat her until she is screaming before breakfast, and find at least one other opportunity to do it again before we go to bed, even if I’m at work past dark.

I even find an 'assistant' job for Isla to do, digitizing paperwork that had piled up over the years, and she'd spend some of her days in the office with me, dressed in the perfectly crafted pencil skirts I had made for her.

By the seventh day, I'm almost positive I spend all of my waking moments hard as steel. But Isla is about to break, about to beg, and I can't wait for it.

That evening, I'm expected at a retirement party for another big-name investor I'm on good terms with. This is my least favorite part of the work I do, but it's a necessary evil. Having Isla as my plus one helps, too. It will be my first chance to show her off.

The party is held after-hours at the Seattle Art Museum, and I have to admit I'm impressed by how much it must have cost to rent out.

Isla is stunning in a pale lavender dress, sleeveless and hugging her body, before gently flaring out to flow around her long legs.

Her hair has been smoothed and curled into a complicated twist at the back of her neck, and her makeup is soft.

She looks like she belongs here, even if she doesn't think so herself.

She's been quiet since we arrived, and I've been making small talk with the people around us. Isla keeps up well with the flow of conversation, and there's quite a bit of interest around her. Everyone knows I'm too much of a prick to have a woman on my arm … until now.

Well, I'm still a prick to everyone else. Just not my Isla.

She pulls away at one point, quietly telling me she's going to use the restroom and get a drink on the way back.

I let her go, taking some time to actually admire the exhibits that line the walls of the room.

Time ticks by, and not even the artwork is enough to distract me from the fact that my woman has been gone too long for me to be comfortable with.

When I spot her from across the gallery, rage rises inside of me so intensely that it's hard to breathe.

Not only has she been waylaid by another man who has roped her into a conversation, but his arm is resting on the bartop behind her, blocking her in.

He leans in close to her as he talks, and while I can't see her face, I can tell that she doesn't want to be there.

Her back is nearly against the wall, her drink clutched in front of her.

Time slows, blood running hot in my veins as I make my way towards them. I didn't know who the fuck was talking to her, but he has no right to look at her like that. Hell, I didn't want him looking at her at all.

She doesn't belong to him or anyone else. Isla is mine.

The crowd parts almost instinctively as I move, strides long but not too rushed.

It's hard not to run to her when Isla catches my eye over the other man's shoulder, but I keep it together, at least on the outside.

I'm not going to give this asshole the satisfaction of causing too much of a scene. It's only his fear that I want.

When I reach them, the moron still hasn't noticed me. "Having fun?"

The man straightens and turns. I don't recognize him, but his stance is way too cocky for my liking.

His hair is thinning, his suit is expensive, but it doesn't matter.

I don't care who he is. There isn't a person on this earth so important that I wouldn't break their legs for getting between me and Isla Cross.

"Yes, thanks for asking," he says, grinning at me like we're old friends. His hand comes up to rest on Isla's bare shoulder, and my vision goes red. I want to break every single one of his fingers.

"You're done here," I tell him, not even bothering to look at him anymore. Isla looks nervous, and I just want her out of here. "You've got three seconds to get your hand off of her."

He blinks, but he doesn't move his hand. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

I grin, but it's more of a silent snarl. The man pales slightly, but still, he doesn't move. I've given him plenty of chances to back down and leave of his own volition. That option is now gone.

Without a second thought, I grab the wrist of the hand that rests on Isla's shoulder. I step forward, using my weight and height to crowd him back into the bar behind him. It's subtle enough to not be noticed by the crowd around us, but there's no mistaking the look of fear in his eyes.

"I don't want to have to say this again," I tell him quietly, twisting his wrist enough to make it hurt. "You're going to get the fuck out of here and never speak to Isla again. And if you ever touch her again, I'll kill you. Do you understand?"

"I … yeah," he mumbles, wincing as I tighten my grip on his wrist. "Damn, dude, I was just talking to her. I swear."

I stare at him, trying to determine whether or not I believe him. He looks scared enough for it to be true, so I release him with a warning glare.

"Get the fuck out of here."

He scurries away without looking back.

"Are you alright?" I ask Isla, turning to her.

She looks a little shaken, but her pupils are wide as she nods, her breathing fast. I recognize the look in her eyes, the same one that was there when I sent the tailor running for touching her, and all the fury inside me shifts gears into something else.

Something dark and hungry and desperate to possess.

Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and that's my breaking point. I don't grab her wrist, but link her fingers with mine, pulling her close enough that only she can hear, "Follow me."

I have no idea where the hell I'm taking her, but I lead Isla down a flight of stairs to an empty, lesser-used floor of the museum. It takes a few minutes of searching before I find a small room, and I pull Isla inside, closing the door behind me and hitting the light switch.

"What are you doing?" she asks breathlessly as I back her up until her legs hit the desk. We're in some sort of office, but it's empty of anything recently used. Just the desk and some boxes stacked to the side.

"Seeing that fucker touch you..." I hiss, hands already going to her waist. "I'm the only man that will ever touch you again, Isla. Understand? You belong to me."

After a week of my touch, she's primed and ready, easily agreeable, "Yes."

This time, though, I'm not going to be on my knees.

I take one of her small hands and place it over my cock, hard and imprinted on my pants, and her sapphire eyes go even wider.

"You want this?" I ask, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.

She tilts her head back, giving me more space to lick and nip at her skin, leaving faint red marks. "I can see you want it."

"But Dante, the party...."

"Fuck the party." I turn her around and push her forward, bending her over the desk.

Isla grips the far edge with both hands as I run my hands up her legs and under the skirt of her dress, pushing it up over her hips to reveal the pale lavender matching panties.

I grind against her, and the sound she makes from the contact is desperate, needy, and it goes straight to my already hard dick.

"I want to fuck you, Isla," I tell her, reaching around to slide my hand into her panties and find her clit. She moans when my fingers slip through her soaked folds, rolling her hips back towards me.

"Oh god," she whimpers, "Please..."

"But I need to hear you beg for it."

She looks over her shoulder at me, and I can see the indecision there, but Isla wants it. I can see it written all over her face.

"Say it, Isla."

"Please, Dante."

It's not enough. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours."

I stroke her faster, circling her clit. Isla pushes her hips back further, her chest pressing against the table. I lean forward to kiss a line up her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. She's close to coming, and I keep my fingers moving on her clit, knowing how to push her over the edge.

"Tell me who you belong to."

"You," she pants, her body beginning to tremble, "I'm yours, Dante."

"Now tell me what you want," I lean forward to nip at her ear, my body covering hers, "In detail, sweet Isla".

"I want you to fuck me." Her words are breathless, and I know she's close to coming. "Please, Dante, please fuck me."

I release her and step back, ignoring her gasp of surprise. When she turns to look at me, her face is flushed and her hair is coming loose from the intricate style it had been in, and she looks utterly fucking wrecked. I've never seen anything more beautiful.

"Panties off," I order. "Leave your heels on."

Isla slips them off and tosses them aside before turning back to me.

I'm already unbuckling my belt, pulling my cock out.

Isla's eyes go wide as she watches, and I stroke myself a few times, just to feel her eyes on me.

I know I'm big, big enough to be intimidating, but Isla doesn't balk.

She bites her lip, nervous but needy, and the sight of her pink tongue is almost enough to make me lose control.

But I don't. I have to take care of Isla first, give her what she needs.

I grab her hips, turning her around so she's facing me.

I need to see her expression when I fill her up.

She spreads her legs for me, and I grab her knees, pushing her back just enough to have her at the perfect angle.

She's soaked, her swollen clit peeking out, and I step forward, still clutching my cock as I run it over that bundle of nerves, making her cry out.

I do it again, and again, until she begs without even being asked.

"Please fuck me, Dante," she whimpers. "I can't take it."

"As you wish," I say, guiding my cock to her entrance. I sink in slowly, inch by inch, watching her face. She’s so hot and wet and tight that it’s hard to concentrate on anything else but filling her up. Nothing has ever felt so good.

Isla’s mouth drops open in a silent moan, and I give her all the time she needs to adjust, even if it takes every bit of control in me.

Once I'm fully seated inside her, I pause, letting her get used to the feeling. "Good girl," I murmur, reaching down to stroke her clit. Isla keens, and I know she's ready. "You're going to come for me, Isla, and then I'm going to fuck you hard and fast until I come inside of you."

Her only answer is a soft gasp as I pull out and sink home again, keeping my fingers moving on her clit.

When she reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck, I pull her against my chest, my mouth claiming hers as I fuck her.

The angle makes her sounds of pleasure grow more and more desperate, and I can feel her inner walls spasming around my cock.

Isla pulls away from our kiss to bury her face against my shoulder, legs wrapping around me as if she can't get enough.

"Don't stop," is all she can say as I piston into her, "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop..."

She doesn't finish the thought before her climax crashes over her, and I keep going, fucking her through her orgasm and prolonging it until she's shaking in my arms. Then I slow, kissing her deeply and thoroughly before whispering against her lips, "My turn."

I hike her dress even higher around her hips as I push her back on the desk again, her back flat to the wood as I fuck her just the way I need to—hard and fast and punishing.

There's nothing soft about the way I'm pounding into her, but she doesn't seem to mind.

Her fingers are digging into my forearms where she grips me, and every few seconds, her eyes close tight as she bites her lip.

She's not screaming, but the room is filled with the sound of her panting moans and my heavy breathing, along with the wet slapping of skin on skin.

I watch her as I fuck her, taking in every detail. The way her hair fans out behind her on the table, how her breasts bounce in the dress with every thrust, the way her eyes squeeze closed and her mouth drops open when she's close to coming again.

I know I'm not going to last much longer, but I want one more from her before this is through.

"That's it, sweet Isla," I growl, feeling the tension in my own body building to an almost unbearable peak. "I want you to come all over my cock again before I fill you up."

She looks up at me, eyes glassy with desire, and I know she's just as close as I am. Her fingers tighten on my arms, nails biting into my skin through my shirt, and I love the sensation.

"I need you to come for me now, Isla," I order. "Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

And she does, back arching off the table, heels digging into my ass, my name on her lips as she comes, pussy gripping me tight as I bury myself inside of her and find my own release, pumping her full of my seed.

I keep thrusting into her, fucking her through it, until our bodies have both gone slack. Isla is breathing hard, and I lean forward to kiss her even as she shakes with the aftershocks of her climax.

"That was fucking incredible," I murmur against her lips when we break apart. I can't stop touching her, running my hands over her body, still lying on the desk with her dress hiked up to her hips. "You're incredible."

She hums in contentment, but eventually sits up. "We should get back to the party, shouldn't we?"

"I don't want to share you yet," I admit, even as I tuck my cock back into my pants and straighten my clothes. "But if I don't make an appearance soon, they'll send someone looking for us."

I help her to her feet, pulling her panties back on for her and smoothing her dress down, before leaning in to kiss her again.

She helps straighten my shirt and stands on her toes to brush my hair back into shape with her fingers before trying her best to fix her own.

Then we're ready to rejoin the rest of the world, at least for the time being.

But soon, I want to have my woman home and fuck her again, this time in a soft bed and all the time in the world at our disposal.