Page 39 of Impure Vows

“You don’t want that though, do you?” Dante’s voice is dark and dangerous, laced with a lust that sends shivers down my spine.

I can barely form a coherent thought before he bites the skin of my neck, trailing along my collarbone. His breath is heavy, his hands digging into my sides. Goosebumps ripple down my back, and I can’t help but throw my head back, surrendering to the sensations. My fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt, driven by defiance and desperate need.

“Admit it, Aliyah,” he growls against my skin, each word vibrating through me.

“Shut up,” I manage to gasp, but my actions betray me as I continue to unbutton his shirt. The fabric parts, revealing his chiseled chest. I press my palms against his skin, feeling the hard muscle beneath. He backs me towards the bed, his eyes never leaving mine, a predator cornering his prey.

With a swift motion, he rips my dress from my body, making me gasp as the cool air hits my skin. The black lingerie I’m wearing makes Dante groan, his eyes darkening with a dangerous hunger.

“Turn around,” he commands, his voice brooking no argument.

I hesitate, but the intensity of his gaze leaves me no choice. Slowly, I turn, feeling his eyes rake over me, igniting a fire beneath my skin. His hands grip my hips, pulling me back against him. His heat is overwhelming, and my breath hitches as his fingers trace the edge of my lingerie.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “Now, stay still.”

The sound of Dante's belt unbuckling fills the room, followed by the tearing of my panties. One hand snakes around the back of my neck, pinning my face and upper body to the bed. The other trails around my hip, over the swell of my ass, and down the back of my thigh until his fingers slip through the slickness that has gathered between my legs.

“Hmm, so wet for someone so unwilling,” Dante murmurs, his voice gravelly.

I can’t help the way I arch back, chasing his hand. A cry escapes me at the sudden searing pain of Dante’s hand smacking across my bare ass.

“Why?” I gasp, my voice trembling with a mix of pain and something I hate to admit is desire.

“Why?” He laughs darkly. “Because I can, Aliyah. Because you need to learn who’s in control.”

His fingers tease my entrance, and I shudder, hating myself for the way my body reacts. “I can feel how much you want me,” he whispers, pressing his body against mine.

“Go to hell,” I manage to spit out, though my voice lacks conviction.

Dante tsks, and the next smack sends a sharp jolt through my body. The sting intensifies, each spank drawing a whimper from my lips. Tears slip down my face, my body aching for more, hating how he makes me want him despite everything.

"Stop pretending you don't like it," he growls, his voice like gravel.

My mind races, torn between the need to defy him and the desperate ache for him to make me forget. "I hate you," I manage to gasp, but my voice betrays me, filled with longing.

Dante bends over me, his breath hot against my ear. "Liar," he murmurs, his cock brushing against my entrance, teasingly close. He grabs my hair, pulling me up until my back is pressed against his bare chest. The sting in my scalp only adds to the wild mix of pain and pleasure coursing through me.

His cock bobs between us, brushing against sensitive spots that make me shudder. Dante's dark chuckle vibrates against my skin as his cock throbs against me. His hand loosens on my hair, snaking around to wrap tightly around my throat. My skin stings from the rough treatment, but I can't help the breath that slips out as he presses his cock against me, forcing me forward onto the bed.

"You like this, don't you?" His voice is a low, dangerous whisper.

"Fuck you," I manage to gasp, though my body arches towards him, betraying my words.

"That's the plan," he growls, pushing my face back down with a force that leaves no room for argument. His hand smacks my ass, hard, the sound echoing in the room. The sting sends a jolt through my body, forcing a sharp intake of breath.

I can't help the moan that escapes my lips, betraying the conflicted rush of sensations that flood me. My skin tingles where his hand landed, a reminder of his dominance, and despite myself, I arch towards him, craving more.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his fingers trailing down to my slick entrance. "You're mine."

"No," I whisper, but the word is lost in the sensations he's creating.

He pushes inside me, filling me completely. The stretch is intense, bordering on painful, but it sends a wave of pleasure through me that I can't deny. His hand on my throat tightens, and my vision blurs at the edges.

"Say it," he commands, thrusting hard.

Before I can protest, Dante shoves his fingers into my mouth. The shock of it, the intimacy, nearly undoes me.

“You will accept it sooner or later,” he says, each word punctuated by a heavy thrust. His eyes burn with a mixture of lust and dominance.

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