Page 35 of The Gangster King

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Page 35 of The Gangster King

Dante studies me, and I think I might be getting somewhere. So I keep going.

“Please. Even just for a few hours.” I try to release my hands and pet him. He’s a man, after all. But Dante doesn’t let go of his tight hold. “I’m going insane in this room.”

With a long sigh, he glances around.

“It’s been six days, Dante.”

He releases my wrists and moves his hand through my hair, yanking my head a few inches closer to his face.

I squeeze my thighs, furious with my body for reacting, and stare at his lips like a hungry woman.

“Kiss me and I’ll let you have some freedom tonight,” he demands.

I want to spit in his face and tell him I hate him. That I would never kiss him again if he was the last man on earth. But the truth is, my pussy is burning with need. I want him to kiss me sofucking bad that I almost press myself into him right then and there.

Almost.

“Three hours,” I say.

“Two,” he replies.

“Two and a half, and I get to go outside.”

His blue eyes shimmer and I know he’s having fun playing with me. That’s okay. I’m playing with him right back. I know this home as well as my own.

Mostly.

All I need is one of them to mess up and I will run, then find a place to hide. Then escape.

“Deal. Now kiss me, Adelina before I throw you on that bed and fuck your sweet pussy.”

I press my lips to his, planning for it to be a completely chaste kiss.

And fail.

My lips part and his tongue sweeps in, knocking the air from my lungs. My legs wobble, but Dante wraps his arm around me, tugging my entire body against him.

I let out a moan as our mouths crush together hungrily and we devour one another. Fire roars through me as our long-held passion flares to life.

I still want to slap him, but if he stopped kissing me, I’d die right now. His hips buck against me and I clench my eyes tightly, as if that would stop the arousal spinning between us.

“God, kitten, you taste like spicy summer fruit.” He moans, sucking my bottom lip.

And you taste like a kidnapper.

My core pulses as I take a step back. I can feel my nipples pressing against the cotton of my white t-shirt.

Dante’s eyes dip to my breasts, then lift once more.

“Be a good girl and don’t put on a show for the cameras.” He smirks while my mouth falls open.

“There are cameras in here?!” I gasp.

“See you at seven,” he says, slamming the door behind him when he leaves.

Cameras?

That asshole, he’s been watching me for a week.




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