Page 47 of Ruthless Desire

"Do you see how they look at you?" I whisper in her ear, my voice rough with need. "How they want you? But they can't have you. You're mine, Natalie. Only mine."

She whimpers, her hips grinding against me in a way that makes my cock throb painfully in my tailored pants. "Dante, please," she gasps, though whether she's begging me to stop or continue, I'm not sure she even knows.

I spin her around, pressing her back to my chest as we move to the pulsing beat. One hand splays across her stomach, holding her against me, while the other trails up to ghost over her throat.

"Please what, solnyshko?" I growl, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Tell me what you want. Beg for it."

She hesitates, her body trembling against mine. I can practically taste the conflict radiating off her – the part of her that wants to submit warring with the fierce, independent woman she used to be.

"I... I want..." she starts, her voice barely audible over the music.

But before she can finish, the song changes, the heavy beat giving way to something slower, more sensual. I turn her to face me again, one hand on her lower back, the other tangling in her hair.

"You want this," I murmur, my lips a breath away from hers. "You want me to take you right here, in front of everyone. To show them all that you're mine."

Her eyes flutter closed, a soft moan escaping her as I roll my hips against hers. "Yes," she breathes, so quietly I almost miss it.

It's all the invitation I need. I capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all my possessive hunger into it. She responds with equal fervor, her arms wrapping around my neck as she presses herself closer.

We lose ourselves in the music, in the heat of our bodies moving together. The world around us fades away, until it's just us – predator and prey, locked in our eternal dance of desire and dominance.

As the night wears on, I can feel Natalie's resistance crumbling. She leans into my touches more readily, her eyes growing heavy-lidded with desire. It's intoxicating, watching her slowly surrender to the darkness within her.

Chapter 17 Natalie

The pulsing beats of Club Lusso's music reverberate through my bones. Dante's arms encircle me, his hard frame presses against mine, and I can't resist running my hands up his muscular back. Even as we sway to the driving rhythm, I sense the gears turning in his mind. His piercing gaze darts around, assessing every shadow and glittering facade.

A familiar face catches my eye across the dance floor. Luca Corsini, Nazarov's heir and my ill-fated attempt at finding protection from Dante's obsession. The memory of Sienna's sly introduction floods back:

"Natalie, darling, you simply must meet Luca. He's positively divine, and I'm sure you two will hit it off splendidly."

I'd grasped at the opportunity like a drowning woman, hoping Luca's family connections might shield me from Dante's ever-tightening grasp. How naive I was.

Luca's eyes meet mine now, a predatory glint matching the cruel curve of his lips. I shudder, burrowing closer to Dante despite myself.

"Getting distracted, solnyshko?" Dante's low growl sends shivers down my spine.

I arch an eyebrow, forcing a teasing lilt into my voice. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? Your little empire seems to have your full attention tonight."

His grip tightens, eyes darkening with that familiar, terrifying hunger. "Oh, I can assure you," he purrs, "you have my undivided attention."

Before I can retort, his mouth crashes into mine. I hate how my body responds, melting against him as heat pools low in my belly.

We stumble to a secluded booth, hands roaming, kisses growing more frantic. I want him - god help me, I want every inch of this beautiful, dangerous man. His touch ignites a fire within me that threatens to consume us both.

"You're so infuriating," Dante growls against my throat, teeth grazing my pulse point. "Always pushing, always testing my control."

I gasp as his hand slides up my thigh, bunching the fabric of my dress. "Maybe I like seeing you lose control," I breathe, even as alarm bells scream in the back of my mind.

His eyes flash, primal and hungry. "Careful what you wish for, little bird."

In one fluid motion, he pulls me onto his lap, my back pressed to his chest. His fingers ghost along my inner thighs, teasing, tormenting. "Spread your legs," he commands, his voice rough with need.

I obey without thinking, parting my thighs as his hand inches higher. When his fingers brush against my already-slick folds, I can't hold back a whimper.

"So wet for me," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "Always so ready, aren't you? Such a good little slut for me."

The crude words should repulse me, but instead, they send another wave of molten heat through my core. I rock my hips, desperate for more friction.

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