Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
How could I forget those words? He looked at me much like he’s looking at me now, with possessiveness, determination, and a dark promise sparking in his amber eyes, as he positioned me in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and stripped me naked while, far below, New York City was going about its business, none the wiser of what was happening in that private guesthouse where he pinned me against the glass and lifted my leg over his shoulder as he went down on his knees like a starving beast.
“You’re mine to mark, Tatiana, whether it’s with my cock, my belt, my hand, a fucking knife… it doesn’t matter. Mine. No one else’s.”
Despite the memories coursing like hot lava through my veins, burning with both nostalgia and regret, I keep my tone cold. “Is this conversation going somewhere?”
“You bet your life it is.” His voice turns quiet, his words sounding sinister. “You owe me another name.”
I gape at him. “For what? So that you can punish the men you yourself sent after me?”
“I told them not to harm you.”
“Why?” I push out a laugh. “So that you could use me one more time to get your revenge?”
He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, his non-verbal language telling me not to test his patience.
“Because you’re mine.” He hauls me closer, causing our bodies to collide. “Which part of that didn’t you understand?”
“And after?” I look into his eyes where the golden flames burn cold instead of hot. “When I’ve served my purpose? Is that when you’re going to kill me?”
He doesn’t as much as blink. “Noah needs his mother.”
“So this is about Noah now, is it?”
His voice drops another octave. “And not about you?” He caresses my neck, dragging this thumb over the vein that pulses there. “Do you want me to care?”
I grit my teeth. “Not for a second. I don’t give a damn about you. I don’t care what you feel or what you don’t. You no longer have any effect on me.”
He smiles as if he doesn’t believe me. “Prove it. Take off your jeans and show me your cunt isn’t wet.”
On cue, at the crass words, liquid heat spills between my legs. What is wrong with me?
I strain in his hold. “Let me go.”
He doesn’t budge. “His name, Tatiana.”
“I don’t know,” I exclaim.
He walks me backward to the room. “Where did it happen?”
“New York.” I glance behind me, frightened now, not of him but of my reaction as the back of my legs hit the bed. “I hadn’t left the city yet.”
He pushes me down until I’m sitting on the mattress. “Before or after Noah was born?”
My heartbeat picks up in alarm as he grips the waistband of my jeans and yanks me to the edge of the bed.
“Dante, what are you doing?”
Ignoring my question, he pops the button and pulls down the zipper. “Answer me, Tatiana. My patience is running thin. I think you want a taste of my belt instead of my hand.”
Cold sweat runs down my armpits. The fear is sharp and traitorous, the idea of the pain almost sending me spiraling down a pit of memories from the darkest night of my life. Yet I’m too proud to tell him to stop, too scared that he’ll see what the idea of a whipping does to me.
Instead, I give him what he wants. “Before Noah was born.”
“How long before he was born?”
“I was four months pregnant.”
Rage flashes through his eyes. That he shows the fury so clearly instead of masking it as he usually does only scares me more.
He pushes me onto my back, grabs the legs of the jeans, and pulls them free in a single movement. “What happened?”
I can handle anything, but not this, not to be thrown back so viciously into the nightmare that left me in a heap of bleeding pulp. I can fight for Noah and our lives, but I’m not strong enough to go back to that night. This is the one thing that will break me, and I can’t allow him to do that.
My reply is rushed. “He waited for me outside a supermarket.”
He drops the jeans on the floor. “Then what?”
“I tried to dodge him when I realized I was being followed.”
He dips a finger in the elastic of my panties and pulls them down my thighs.
Inside, I start shaking. “I went up a fire escape at the back of a building.”
Holding my gaze, he frees my feet from the panties before balling the cotton in a fist. At least my oversized T-shirt falls down to my thighs, protecting my modesty.
I speak faster, wanting this to end. No, to prevent it. “I wasn’t fast enough. He found me.”
Dante lifts the underwear to his nose and inhales deeply, just like he used to do.
I push onto my elbows, wanting to be ready if he strikes. If he flips me over and presses my face into the covers, I’m not sure I’ll survive it. “He caught my ankle. I slipped and hit my chin on the metal step.”