Page 11 of Possessed
"That was fucking incredible," I murmur against her lips when we break apart. I can't stop touching her, running my hands over her body, still lying on the desk with her dress hiked up to her hips. "You're incredible."
She hums in contentment, but eventually sits up. "We should get back to the party, shouldn't we?"
"I don't want to share you yet," I admit, even as I tuck my cock back into my pants and straighten my clothes. "But if I don't make an appearance soon, they'll send someone looking for us."
I help her to her feet, pulling her panties back on for her and smoothing her dress down, before leaning in to kiss her again. She helps straighten my shirt and stands on her toes to brush my hair back into shape with her fingers before trying her best to fix her own. Then we're ready to rejoin the rest of the world, at least for the time being.
But soon, I want to have my woman home and fuck her again, this time in a soft bed and all the time in the world at our disposal.
5
ISLA
It's been two and a half months. That's how long I've been living in Dante's world. Two months of penthouse views, luxury, and the best sex of my entire life. Time is running out on the contract, and I have no idea what the heck I'm going to do.
For the first few weeks, I kept a secret calendar in one of my notebooks, marking down the days until my contract was up. Even after we were fucking almost every night and behaving as a couple, I would mark down the days when I remembered.
But then, eventually, I just stopped. Other parts of my life with Dante were consuming me. It should feel like imprisonment, but instead, it feels like … love. Possessive, sometimes infuriating, sometimes terrifying love.
There's romance in Dante's intensity. The way he keeps his hand at the small of my back when we're in public, and how he knows just how I take my coffee in the morning. He even cooks for me sometimes, my own private billionaire chef, his sleeves rolled up as he chops vegetables.
Then there's how obsessive he is about other men speaking to me, which should be annoying, but makes my blood run hot for him instead. Once, I smiled at a server when he handed me a drink, and Dante's arm was around my waist in an instant, whispering,'You don't smile like that for anyone but me.'
I should be angry when he does that stuff. Instead, it turns me on. I'm growing addicted to the feeling of being wanted to the point of obsession.
We travel, but never too far. My favorite moments are stargazing with him on the rooftop, my head on his chest as we lie on the oversized outdoor couch, his chin resting on the top of my head. Dante is dangerous, but when I'm with him, I've never felt safer.
I should be ready to leave in a few weeks. Part of me is, I guess. My father found out about the contract just a few days ago, and when we spoke on the phone, he was equal parts horrified about what I’d done for him and relieved that the debt would be washed away soon enough. It made me think about what life will look like post-Dante, and the thought leaves a pit in my stomach.
I can't picture my life without Dante anymore. I love him. It's terrifying. And I only have two weeks to figure it out.
When Dante leavesfor a business meeting, I take my chance. I want to look at the contract I signed one more time before the two weeks are up, just to see if there are any hints of what my life will be like once this is all over. Will he want me to still work for him, even though I'm well aware it's just busy work? Will he want to date me for real, or will he want to cut contact completely once it's all done?
He always locks his office, but I know where he keeps the key. It's betrayal, plain and simple, when I slip the key into the lock and turn it, but there's no going back. This is my life. I have to know.
I've been in here a few times, and while everything is clearly expensive and well-made, there's a minimalist feeling to it all that I didn't expect. Dante is single-minded when he's working, and he's made it so he has no distractions. Other than me.
My hands are shaky as I paw through the desk drawers as silently as possible. At first, all I find are invoices, various papers, and dozens of carefully labeled files. But then I see it, tucked behind everything else—a manila folder with my name scrawled on it in Dante's handwriting. My stomach drops to the floor, but I don't hesitate, plucking the file out.
My heart races as I open it, and the first thing I see isn't my contact. Instead, it's a copy of my lease for my old apartment. No, wait. When I look closer, I realize it's not the lease at all. It's actually a notice of lease termination.
Dante paid my rent for the month I moved in with him and then paid the fee to break the lease in the middle of it. My apartment is long gone, so even if I want to leave...I have no home to go back to.
Behind it is an address change form. Dante changed my address the day before I even signed the contract. He was going to move me in with him no matter what, even if I resisted signing.
I feel nauseous, but I keep going.
Next is a background check on me, which isn't that odd for someone as wealthy as Dante. What doesn't make sense, though, is the fact that it's dated two years ago. I cover my mouth to stiflea gasp. He's had eyes on me for two years, watching, waiting until he had a chance to catch me.
It all comes together with the last document in the file. All this time, I've been under the impression that one department of Dante's firm was debt acquisition, and that was how he came into possession of my father's debt. He'd never elaborated about how he knew my father even had a daughter, but I chalked it up to him simply seeing us out somewhere and coming up with the idea of our contract. But if he's been following me for two years, that's long before my father even tried to invest in the company that nearly bankrupted him.
Dante had just been watching and waiting for an opportunity to have me at his mercy, and my dad's mistake was the perfect setup. He waited until I had nowhere to run, no choice but to go to him if I wanted to help my only living parent.
I feel the room tilting around me, my head spinning. Dante has pulled every single string to bring me into his orbit. I've never even had a chance at freedom, at least not for the last two years. I've been destined to be his all this time, and I didn't even know it.
I sink into the leather office chair behind me, clutching the folder to my chest. I don't even need to read the contract anymore. I have all the proof I'll ever need to prove that I've been living in a cage this entire time.
Of course I'm angry. I feel furious, helpless, but my chest aches. Not just from betrayal, but the knowledge that even knowing how relentless Dante was in his quest to possess me, I still love him.
