Page 23 of Stranded with My Mafia Boss

"Is that all this is to you? Some game where you use me for your pleasure?" Anger at myself for being so damn gullible stabbed through me, and I couldn’t keep the fury out of my voice.

"Katie—" He reached out to touch my arm.

I recoiled. "I can't believe I was so stupid to think you cared about me. That I felt something for you."

My eyes burned, and I put everything I had into keeping the tears from falling. He wouldnotsee me cry over this.

Damien gripped my shoulders. "Listen to me,"

"Listen to what? There's nothing to talk about." I shoved at his chest. "I'm done, Damien. I’m not a plaything."

"Damn it, Katie, it's not like that." His voice became even cooler and more precise. "Yes, I wanted you. God knows I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you. But it’s not just about sex."

"Really? Then what else is it about? Blow jobs?" I scoffed, glaring at him.

In one quick movement, he scooped me over his shoulder and headed back into the cabin.

"Let me down!" I yelled and snarled.

He swatted my behind as he strode into the living room and dropped me on the couch, pinning my arms. "Calm down."

"Let go of me!" This wasn’t exactly the most stellar way to get me to stop struggling.

"Not until you listen." His face hardened as he adjusted his grip on my arms.

"To what? Excuses?"

"Do you think I’veeverexcused myself to anyone?" He stared down at me, expression dangerous.

Self-preservation belatedly reared its head. "Honesty and trust are important," I said in a small voice.

"So is this." His mouth crashed down on mine, angry and demanding.

Rage and desire warred within me as I bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. He merely laughed, the sound dark and dangerous, sending a thrill up my back.

His hands were everywhere, grasping and squeezing roughly. My robe fell open, and I moaned into his mouth as his fingers found my nipples, pinching and twisting until I whimpered.

He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck as he untied the sash of my robe. The fabric fell to either side of me, leaving me bare before his gaze.

"You're mine," he growled, securing my wrists above my head with the sash.

I strained against the bindings, panic, and desire mingling until I couldn’t tell one from the other. My heart raced as Damien's hands skimmed down my sides. His touch was both tender and possessive, as though he couldn't decide whether to worship me or claim me.

Perhaps it was both.

He stripped, then positioned himself at my entrance. I tugged on the sash confining my wrists. I might have been able to get them free, but I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to. I wasn’t entirely sure I didn’t want to, either.

Our eyes locked, anger and lust swirling within those icy blue depths, as well as something else I couldn’t identify. I glared up at him as I fought the ropes.

With a powerful thrust, he entered me. I cried out at the sudden intrusion, clenching around him.

He stilled, jaw clenched, eyes boring into mine. "Say it," he said. "Say you're mine."

I bared my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction. He pulled back until just the head of his cock remained inside me, the emptiness nearly unbearable.

"Say it," he said. "Or I'll leave you wanting."

The threat was clear. I squirmed, then decided to yield for the moment. I didn’t have to mean it.

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