Page 7 of Enforcer

“Mm, why?” I breathe her in, damn near pressing my nose through her fucking skin at this point as she white-knuckles the sink.

“Because it’s rude.”

I can’t help the dark chuckle that rumbles out of me and grazes her skin, causing it to ripple, goosebumps breaking out like a sheet of tiny sensors. “Minaccia, I’ve been called many things. Rude is definitely included amongst them, and it’s never bothered me in the slightest,” I tell her.

What would she do if she knew the word meantmenace?

She’d probably curse at me or throw one of those sharp shoes she’s balancing on at my head.

“You need to back up and keep your hands to yourself,” she says, finding the strength I, myself, can’t even muster and straightening her body in front of me.

Her plump ass pulls away from my cock that’s begging me to shred her skirt, and I nearly whine at the loss.

“And why is that, minaccia?”

My hand splays against the nape of her neck, where a beautiful flush is gathering. My hand envelopes her dainty neck from behind, tattoos looking darker against the ivory tone of her skin. The black rose tattooed on my hand stretches and tugs as I squeeze and release the pressure a few times, listening as the little menace’s breathing hitches and gathers in her chest with each movement.

“Please, stop,” she says, and I can’t help the ice that washes through my veins as I drop my hand, grabbing her hip so I can turn her to face me.

I spin her around, pressing her back into the sink, glaring down at her with my heart beating my ribs like a man trying to escape the darkest prison.

“Do you want me to stop, minaccia? Truly? Something tells me you don’t.”

She swallows, and I lift a finger to follow the highway of her throat.

She elongates it. “This can’t happen. We can’t.”

I don’t know if she’s telling me or herself.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt something like this. Since I buried my Anna in the ground that rainy day in April.

I thought for the longest time that I’d died with her. However, when I pushed into that room ahead of Slate and saw her standing there, I was more shocked than I was to see Brynne as the head of the Bianchi family syndicate. That made more sense than the reaction I had to this creature.

“Why can’t it?” I ask her, trying to stay present and not get lost in the tangle of everything I have bleeding through me.

“Because your boss is…”

“Currently fucking your boss,” I finish for her as I test my hand, wrapping around her slight throat, watching the same tattoo swallow it whole.

She doesn’t laugh, however. Her pupils blow wide, and her pretty little lips open and release a stilted moan I’ll remember for the rest of my fucking life, no matter where this moment goes from here.

“Dante, we can’t. This will complicate everything,” she reasons.

I’m still stuck on how she’d breathed my name, though.

“Say it again,” I plead, leaning forward and running my nose up her cheek, feeling the flutter of her eyelash against my lips as I dust them over her eye.

This is an obsession beginning.

Slate had told me how he’d felt wholly bewitched by Brynne the first time he spotted her in the woods, and I laughed at him. I made jokes about how shit like that doesn’t exist.

Even when I met Anna, I felt nothing to this magnitude. She and I had an attraction that grew over time, over a few meetings.

This isn’t that.

This is a beast that’s clawing through my brain and possessing me with each sweet breath she takes as my hand holds her throat.

“Dante,” she whimpers as I move my face back in line with hers, my lips hovering.

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