Page 25 of Power
Because he’s right.
I know Enzo. He’s a man of action. A man who would have burned the city down to find me. So why hasn’t he? The questionscratches at my ribs, but I shove it down, unwilling to let Dario see even the slightest crack in my armor.
"He’ll come for me," I say, but it doesn’t land with the confidence I want it to.
Dario tilts his head like he’s studying something fragile and breakable. "If you say so."
Anger flares in my chest. "You don’t know anything about my marriage."
"I know you’re defending a man who hasn’t even tried to find you," he says flatly. "I know you’re standing here, trying to convince yourself you’re still in love with a ghost while looking at me like you want to claw your way out of your own skin and beg for my cock."
"Go to hell."
He laughs. "Already there, princess. But I don’t have to be alone."
I scowl. "So that’s it? You’re going to keep me here just to mess with my head?"
"No," he says. "I’m going to keep you here until there’s nothing left of you for Enzo to come back to. Now I’m going to prove to you I mean business and fuck you right here, right now."
“What?”
His words sink into my bones, and for the first time since waking up in this nightmare, a real, tangible fear slithers through me.
Because I don’t think he’s bluffing.
“Take it off.”
I half expect him to say something else, to fire back with his harsh, venomous words like he usually does, but Dario does none of that. Instead, he pulls his hands from his pockets in a slow, almost deliberate manner and nods. “I said take off your dress, Vittoria,” he says. “What?” Instinctively, I bring my handsup to cover my breasts. I’m not wearing a bra, and my nightdress is two sizes too small, so I bet he can see all of me. Yet, with his stern, powerful voice, he tells me to undress. “I’m not doing that with you—”
“It wasn’t a request.” He seems impatient, as if I’m teetering on the edge of his bad side and the mere act of conversing with me is exhausting. Still, I keep my shoulders straight and hold his stare. That’s a rookie mistake because, if I thought Dario was breathtaking before, being this close to a man burning with desire is something beyond anything I can describe.
The soft brown of his eyes has darkened to an intense hue, nearly black now. His overly long lashes frame the danger in those eyes, but not for long. When he maintains his focus on my face, all I can think about is how much I want him to touch me.
Oh no. I shouldn’t be thinking about this, right?
“I am not getting naked for you—”
Before I can finish my sentence, his hands are on me in a way that is rough yet gentle. Before this moment, I didn’t think it was possible to experience such force and yet feel cared for.
Well, until Dario.
I instinctively try to fight him off. I’ve learned how to push back and escape a man’s hold, but Dario keeps me rooted to the spot, my back pressed firmly against the wall.
“I told you it wasn’t a fucking request,” he breathes, lifting both my hands above my head to secure them there. He’s considerably taller than I am, and standing before such a dangerous man, I feel like David facing Goliath. With one hand keeping mine pinned, he uses the other to rip at my dress. I gasp as we both hear the fabric tear.
When the cool, damp air washes over me, I realize, without glancing down, that I am completely exposed before him.
“What you don’t seem to understand, even now, Vittoria, is that I own you…your body…your damn soul, and I’m going to take it however I want.”
I groan, trying to pull away from him. Just as I feel his grip loosening, Dario pushes back with urgency, slamming me against the wall behind me. A sharp pain rushes through me for a few seconds after the impact, so I shut my eyes and swallow the discomfort. When I open my eyes again, Dario’s attention is still fixed on my face.
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it right now!” I think I’m shaking; I feel the tremors when Dario releases my hands to cup my cheeks. His fingers are coarse as he massages my skin, perfectly framing my face. I’m torn between this simmering anger and an overwhelming sexual attraction, so much that when his fingers drift downward to the side of my mouth, it takes every ounce of willpower not to moan. “I’m not going to let you do this. I am not—”
“What are you going to do about it, princess?” His question is both playful and serious, as if he wants to hear my elaborate plan to make him back down.
There’s determination in his eyes as they fixate on my nose, my mouth, the swell of my breasts. Dario covers one of my breasts with his hand and meticulously swipes at the nipple. It doesn’t take long for it to harden, staring pointedly back at him, ready for his willing, skillful hands.
“See?” He chuckles, breathless. “You say you don’t want this, but your body betrays you. Your body wants me to touch you… to kiss you… to fuck your brains out like the filthy slut I know you are. Right here and now.”
