His stride across the living room was wide because of the pounding crest in his jeans. He could’ve gotten the waters at the bar, but he had to get out of lunging distance from her. If he stayed near, she wouldn’t have a choice about things. She’d be under him on the floor in two seconds, then spread for him another two. He wanted to be many things for her, but an assaulting monster wasn’t one of them.
That didn’t mean he was going to be leisurely about this, damn it. He picked up his pace, punching on the kitchen lights, then ripping two glasses out of the cabinet. With a suppressed growl, he jammed them into the water dispenser. He’d never been more in a hurry in his life. He needed to know if hell was coming in twelve minutes or twelve hours.
Chapter Fourteen
Celina watched his shadow through the frosted glass that separated the living room from the kitchen. He moved like a man possessed, which meant she needed to stop standing here like an nimrod and move just as quickly. She needed to choose. Pick a path and commit.
Path? Oh, right. One of
those
things. The two directions Dante had issued to her as an ultimatum, both
not
on her list for how this “chat” was supposed to shake out. Correction. She
had
planned for both options, just not getting them handed to her on a platter of seething fury, served with an entrée of scorching sexuality, a side of kiss-me-until-my-pussy-trembles, and a sauce on top of it all called mind-blowing Domination.
“What the hell are you doing, Cel?” Though she issued it under her breath, its wild desperation surrounded her. This was what she’d wanted, right? She’d picked this trip over an e-mail on the desperate hope he
would
take this to the bedroom, though as the conversation worsened, she bet closer to him dealing a cold
Don’t let the door hit you on the way out
. She never expected his command for
her
to make the decision—especially with his personal “touches” on things.
If you stay, you
will
submit to me. You’ll sob, you’ll scream, and you’ll give me your body in any way I want, as many times as I want.
“Shit,” she whispered. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Could she do this? Just serve herself up on his sexual platter like this? What she’d seen on Saturday, between Rose and Mark Moore—surely they’d worked their way up to being with each other like that, right? What Dante proposed for her tonight, the absolute authority that defined every step he now took back toward her, the hard purpose that redefined the jaw beneath his beard, was not “working up to things.”
She was paralyzed as he approached. One half of her feared the hell out of him. The other half wanted him in more ways than she’d ever dreamed. He was truly a demon incarnate now, defined by utter darkness across his features and in his stride.
He slammed the drinks to the coffee table. “You’re not gone.”
She summoned her best obstinate courtroom face. Well, tried to. “N-no.”
“And you’re not naked.”
“You didn’t give me even a minute, Flash Gordon. This is a lot to process!”
“I know the fucking feeling.”
He deliberately dug that one in with gritted teeth. Celina coiled her arms across her chest. “Are we going to fight again? I’m trying here, Dante. I came here to—”
“To what?” He yanked her arms apart. “To do
what
, Lieutenant Kouris?” He flung the formality at her with even harsher emphasis. “What the hell do you want, Celina? I even gave you a choice.
What do you want
?”
Wind whipped at the glass windows behind him. Emotions blasted her with equal force. Fury. Desire. Sadness. Madness. A million more, whipping like papers in a hurricane. Those papers were hers, damn it, the tidy piles she’d filed perfectly in the drawers of her mind. Not anymore. Even after she landed in Tokyo, they wouldn’t be righted for a very long time to come. That meant she had no directions. No idea what to think, what to say, what was wrong or right anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut, just wanting to slam the drawers closed and burn the papers. Just needing to succumb to one action, the only action that made sense right now.
She slowly opened her eyes. With equal deliberation, she looked past his rage-tight temples and ink-thick lashes, straight into the deep midnight of his glare. She stepped closer, moving to stand nearly hip to hip with him before pressing one hand over his chest.
“What do
you
want?”
Ten seconds of silence went by. Twenty. Celina didn’t move her hand, which became the only way she knew he still breathed. His lips finally parted a little. His jaw rotated, a slow version of that hungry contemplation that never ceased to make her feel like the last bite of food left on earth.
“Ask me again,” he directed quietly. “But address me as your Sir this time.”
She took her own turn at the no-breathing thing. Her gaze dropped in time to watch her fingers tremble against his sternum. “What do you want…Sir?”
They sucked in air together. As Dante exhaled, he cupped the back of her head. “Damn it, stellina. That’s more beautiful than I imagined it would be.”
The praise filled her with joy. She burrowed against him, roping a hand around his neck, treasuring this moment of feeling their hearts throbbing together. Because her ear was pressed to his chest, she felt his resulting growl before it hit the air. When it did, he purposely scooted her away. It was like her action had rammed a button of deeper fury inside him.
With sharp tugs, he yanked free the tie on her wraparound. He opened his lips more, revealing his locked teeth as he pulled the dress apart and shoved it off her shoulders. A new wind gust hit the windows as the red fabric pooled at her feet.
Dante’s breath rushed out of him with sensual force. “Fuck. Me.”
Celina shifted from foot to foot. She’d blushed her way through purchasing the red lingerie set, having no idea there could be so many choices for shit that covered so little. Crazily, the least expensive part of the set was the most concealing. The red fishnets hit at the middle of her thighs and were attached to a matching garter belt that felt awkward as doing the backstroke in a pair of kid’s water wings.
“It’s lame,” she stammered. “Right? I had to put it all on by myself. I probably messed something—”
“Ssshhh.” Dante waved a sharp hand. “It’s not lame. Just let me look.”
She bit her lip and stole a glance at him. Sure enough, he looked. And looked. And looked. His lips were slammed together now, working back and forth in an expression that bordered on a grimace. His nostrils flared in and out. And his stare…it was the most restless part of him, prowling up and down her body like a starving panther. The insane thing was, she actually felt like that animal under target. The sensation was incredible. She wondered if her jungle counterparts felt this too. The terror mixed with the anticipation, the pure fear of surrender, followed by the euphoria of being free. It made her dizzy. She actually swayed.
Shit.
Shit
. What was happening to her? Everything again rushed at her so fast, too fast. In an attempt at regaining control, she started babbling.
“I remembered how you liked the fishnets I wore on Saturday. Is red as good as the black? I didn’t quite know if the fastenings—”
“
Stop
.”
The unfettered snarl of his voice was enough to enforce the order. In sheer shock and more than a little arousal, she obeyed. The monologue got shoved down her throat, and she fisted her hands at her sides. After that, she braced for the backlash from her brain, sure to hit any moment. Any second now, she was certain common sense would kick in and tell her how insane this was to be standing on display for her lover, waiting for him to issue another command at her.
That moment never came. Instead, everything kept careening forward, faster and harder than before. Every moment carried Dante forward too. The aura of his power flowed off him, weaving its way into the pores of his skin, the planes of his face, the sovereignty of his stance. He was mesmerizing.
She watched, not saying a word, as he came closer by a couple of wildcat-smooth steps. “Thank you,” he said, making it sound more command than appreciation. “The fishnets are beautiful, but your silence pleases me even more. You had to think about it far more deeply than the stockings…” He reached down and unsnapped both her front garters. “Which are going to say their farewell now, anyway.”
He unhooked the back garters with both hands, letting his hands linger on the swells of her ass when he was done. Celina gasped as he palmed both cheeks, then gave them dual slaps, but a single word didn’t fall from her mouth. As she breathed out the brief stings, hanging on to Dante’s forearms for balance, a low hum emanated from him in return.
“Turn around,” he instructed, physically guiding her in the action as well. “Hang on to the back of the couch, cara, and enjoy the view.”
She wondered why there was a tantalizing edge to his tone—until she obeyed the order for the position and saw what he meant by “the view.” Because the clouds outside were now thick as soup, the patio window had become a mirror. She lifted her head to see herself, bent over and waiting for whatever he wanted to do to her. Her breasts hung down, her nipples engorged with arousal, now barely tamed by the red bra. Her ass and her thighs were flares of flesh behind her.
Hell.
She needed to feel dirty about this. Wanton. Shameless. She needed to see herself being turned into his sexual play toy by increasingly bigger stages.
Yeah, she felt all those things.
And had never been more turned on in her entire life.
As if he read her mind, Dante moved up behind her, dark and graceful in his formfitting shirt and gray jeans. With slick surety, he slipped his hand between her thighs from behind. He didn’t dip his fingers below her panties. He didn’t have to.
“What’s this I feel already, stellina? A sweet, wet pussy, getting ready for me?”
She hissed and arched, her breath coming in shaky waves, but she didn’t take her eyes off the figures in the window. She watched as if she were in an amazing erotic dream. If that was the case, she didn’t want to wake up for a very long time.
Dante only made it better, lowering behind her, taking down both her stockings on his way. When he hit the tops of her boots, he unzipped those too, then lifted her feet one by one in silent instruction for her to step free. He tossed the shoes so they landed atop her dress on the floor. In the window, she could see him flow his stare over every inch of her again. She didn’t blink or breathe as he slid a hand down to his crotch, palming the bulge there to greater hardness.
“Oh, stellina.” He emitted a sound between a groan and a grunt. “You are one magnificent creature of torture.”
Her vagina pulsed, sending another river into her panties. Driven by an unseen instinct, she staved off a shiver by starting to roll her hips. Even a sudden jarring comprehension didn’t stop her.
Hell. Wasn’t this exactly how things started the other night with Mark and Rose Moore?
“Holy shit,” he said huskily. “Keep going, baby. You’re so goddamn sexy, my beautiful cara.”
She gave him a sighing cry. Her head swirled like the mist outside, flying into an atmosphere she’d never been in before. She extended her whimper, turning it into a sound of supplication as well as arousal. She wanted more, yearned to fly higher. Her whole body shook with need.
He shifted and pressed behind her again. His hand and fingernails formed a warm pressure down the length of her spine. “It’s okay, baby. I’m going to give you everything you want, the same way you’re going to give me everything I want. I promise it fully.”
His words and his touch streaked fiery tingles through every inch of her skin. “Yes!” It left her lips before she could control it, which made the rest easier to spill. “Yes, Dante, please!”
He amped the fire by a thousand, cracking her ass with two more spanks. “Sorry, cara,” he drawled. “Guess I wasn’t clear enough the first time. Words aren’t your duty right now, unless I demand them directly from you. And believe me, I
will
ask for them. But right now—” He closed his grip around her shoulders, bringing her back to her feet and holding her steady for a moment. “Let’s take a little walk.”
After her footing got steady, he took her hand and tugged her behind him down a mahogany wood hallway. The clean lines and modern angles reminded her of the hall they’d walked at Dark Escape, only here there were no sensual prints on the walls. Instead, there were several alcoves embedded with shelves that held a mishmash of photos. Every person in the pictures shared Dante’s full mouth, strong nose, and longer-than-legal eyelashes. She almost felt the Tieri clan watching her walk behind their golden son, certain they all somehow knew exactly what he was about to do with her. And wishing they’d let her in on the secret.
At the end of the hall, he pushed open a set of double doors. He pulled her into a bedroom that surely had its own zip code. Celina supposed she should have guessed at the square footage just for kicks, but that option faded against the option of drowning a gasp of awe. It was a stunning room, with ivory carpet that cushioned her every step as she let him draw her closer to a four-poster bed with gauzy gold-flecked drapes that were suspended from the ceiling and flowed down each of the four corners, making decadent puddles when they hit the floor. Along the walls, artistic silhouettes of trees were backlit by deep violet lighting, making the walls look like early twilight. Tall sleek urns overflowed with live plants, their earthy freshness mingling with Dante’s signature patchouli to form an enchanted forest bouquet.
She tilted her face up to him with a little smile.
Dante was already staring at her. Not smiling.
His look made her toes curl and the deepest parts of her sex vibrate. For some reason, she got even wetter as he released her hand and set her a few feet away from him. His pose rose by a few inches, nearly like a military commander setting straight a new recruit.