Page 49 of Ruthless Desire

When he pulls back, his eyes are molten with lust and dark promise. "I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to," he growls. "By the time I'm done with you, moy voron, you won't be able to think of anyone but me."

A shudder runs through me, equal parts fear and anticipation. As Dante starts the car again, speeding us towards Shadowcrest and whatever exquisite torments he has planned, I can't shake the feeling that I've crossed a point of no return.

The familiar gates of Shadowcrest loom before us, and my stomach churns with dread and anticipation. Dante hasn’t spoken a word since his declaration in the car, but the tension radiating off him is palpable.

As soon as we’re through the door, he’s on me. His mouth claims mine in a bruising kiss as he shoves me against the wall. I gasp, the impact stealing my breath, but Dante swallows the sound, his hands moving with an intensity that ignites every nerve in my body.

His fingers trail down my spine before his hands grip my hips, and in one fluid motion, he spins me around. The cool wall presses against my cheek, grounding me as the first sharp slap lands on my ass. The sound echoes in the room, followed by the heat blooming across my skin.

"Count," he orders, his voice low and dangerous, but I can hear the edge of his control fraying.

"One," I gasp, bracing myself for the next strike.

The next blow lands harder, making me yelp, but I count again, my voice shaking. Each slap sends a wave of stinging heat through me, and with every strike, I feel my body responding more to the mix of pain and pleasure. By the tenth, I’m trembling, aching for more than just his punishment.

"Ten," I whimper, weakly clinging to the wall. Dante’s hand soothes the stinging skin, and I moan at the gentle touch that contrasts with the violence of his blows.

"You take your punishment so well," he murmurs darkly, fingers sliding between my legs to find me soaked and needy. "So ready for me. Always ready."

I whimper as he unbuckles his belt. The metallic clink of the belt buckle sends a shiver down my spine, anticipation coiling in my stomach.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.

I obey without hesitation, sinking to the plush carpet My heart races as I drop to my knees, looking up at him, my mouth already open like the greedy little whore I was. But instead of guiding his cock into my mouth, he wraps the belt around my wrists, binding them tightly behind my back.

"Let’s see how you handle this," Dante growls, tugging the belt to test the restraint. I can’t move my hands, the leather digging into my skin as he growls, fisting one hand in my hair. When he finally guides his impressive length past my lips.

The taste of him, musky and male, floods my senses.

"That's it," Dante hisses, pushing deeper. "Take all of me, like a good little slut."

I gag slightly as he hits the back of my throat, but force myself to relax. Tears prick my eyes as he sets a punishing pace, using my mouth for his pleasure.

"Look at me," he demands, tugging my hair sharply.

I meet his gaze, my eyes watering from the intensity of his thrusts. The raw hunger I see there both terrifies and thrills me.

"Did you think Luca could touch me?" Dante sneers, his words harsh. "I'm the king of Accel City. No one compares to me, least of all that pathetic excuse for a man."

He thrusts deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat. I choke, my eyes watering even more, but I keep my gaze locked with his.

"That's right, choke on it," he growls, his voice filled with dark pleasure. "You're nothing but a whore, Natalie. My whore. No one else will ever compare to me."

His words cut deep, a mix of pain and twisted pleasure blooming in my chest. I can't deny the truth in his words, the way my body responds to his every command.

"You think you can look at another man? Even consider him?" He thrusts harder, making me gag again. "You're mine, Natalie. Mine to use. Mine to punish, mine to fuck."

His hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer as he drives deeper into my mouth. I can barely breathe, my vision blurring, but the raw intensity of the moment is intoxicating.

"Remember this," Dante hisses, his eyes burning into mine. "Remember who owns you. Who makes you feel like this."

I nod as best as I can, my throat stretched around him, my body trembling with need and submission.

“Takaya khoroshaya devochka.” Dante praises me, and I almost soak the freshly polished floor again. It’s one of the few phrases I've learned to crave in captivity.

Honestly, I even remember begging for it… time and time again.

His pace quickens, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through me. I feel the building tension in his body, the way he's holding back, and it only makes me more desperate.

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