Page 98 of Ruthless Desire

"Give us the room," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Enzo nods, a knowing smirk playing at his lips as he heads for the door. "I'll make sure you're not disturbed," he says, and then we're alone.

The moment the door clicks shut, Dante is on me again. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, setting me on the edge of the massive desk. Papers scatter to the floor, but neither of us pays them any mind.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Dante growls, his hands sliding under my sweater. "How fucking crazy you make me?"

I gasp as his fingers find my bare skin, tracing patterns that make me shiver. "Show me," I breathe, surprising myself with my boldness. "Show me what I do to you, Dante."

His eyes flash with something dark and hungry. "Careful what you wish for, solnyshko. You might not be able to handle it."

"Try me," I challenge, and it's like a dam breaking.

Dante surges forward, crushing his mouth to mine in a kiss that's all teeth and tongue and desperation. His hands are everywhere, touching, claiming, branding me as his. I give as good as I get, my nails raking down his back as I pull him closer.

Clothes are shed with frantic urgency, landing in haphazard piles on the floor. When we're finally skin to skin, I can't hold back the moan that escapes me. Dante feels like fire incarnate, his body hard and unyielding against my softer curves.

"Fuck, Natalie," he pants, pulling back to look at me. His eyes are blown wide with lust, a thin ring of brown around pupils dark as night. "You're so fucking beautiful."

The raw honesty in his voice makes my heart stutter. I reach up, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "So are you," I whisper, and I mean it. Dante Corleone is many things – dangerous, ruthless, borderline sociopathic – but in this moment, he's also the most breathtaking thing I've ever seen.

He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm that's almost reverent. Then, without warning, he flips me onto my stomach, bending me over the desk.

"Hands on the wood," he commands, his voice rough with need. "Don't move them unless I say so. Understand?"

I nod, a thrill of anticipation racing through me. "Yes, I understand."

"Good girl," Dante purrs, and the praise sends a shiver down my spine.

His hands ghost over my back, tracing the curve of my spine before coming to rest on my hips. I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance, teasing but not quite breaching.

"Tell me you want this," Dante says, his grip tightening. "Tell me you want me to fuck you until you can't remember your own name."

"Please," I whimper, past the point of pride or shame. "Please, Dante, I need you. I need–"

He slams into me, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. I cry out, the stretch bordering on pain but so, so good. Dante gives me no time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that has the desk creaking beneath us.

"Is this what you needed?" he growls, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. "To be filled, claimed, fucked like the dirty little slut you are?"

His words should offend me, but instead, they send liquid heat pooling between my thighs. "Yes," I gasp, meeting him thrust for thrust. "God, yes, don't stop."

Dante's hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back. "Look at yourself," he commands, and I realize we're facing a mirror on the opposite wall. "Look at how perfectly you take my cock. How beautiful you are when you're being ruined."

I force my eyes open, taking in the sight of us reflected back. It's obscene, pornographic – me bent over the desk, Dante looming behind me like some dark god of lust. But it's also the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"That's it," Dante purrs, his free hand snaking around to rub tight circles on my clit. "Watch yourself fall apart for me. Let me see you come undone."

The dual stimulation is too much. I shatter with a keening cry, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crash over me. Dante fucks me through it, drawing out every last aftershock until I'm a trembling, oversensitive mess.

Just when I think I can't take anymore, Dante's rhythm falters. He buries himself deep with a guttural groan, his release pulsing hot inside me.

For a long moment, the only sound is our ragged breathing. Dante drapes himself over my back, his weight a comforting anchor as I come down from my high.

"You okay?" he murmurs, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to my shoulder.

I nod, not trusting my voice. Dante pulls out slowly, and I can't hold back a whimper at the loss. He turns me gently, gathering me into his arms.

"I've got you," he says softly, stroking my hair. "I've always got you, Natalie."

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