Page 43 of The Gangster King

I let myself feel all the arousal I’ve fought for years. I lower the mental barriers and lean into our kiss, into his body, and mutter his name against his lips.

“Dante.”

“Addy,” he responds. “Fuck.”

“Yes.”

He moves his mouth off mine and stares down at me darkly with his powerful steel-blue eyes.

Then he steps away.

“I said yes.” I frown, watching him return to his seat.

What is he doing?

This man, who was once a boy, has waited for me to say that for nearly ten years. But he sits and lifts his cutlery. Then points with his fork and says. “Sit. Eat. Stop trying to manipulate me.”

For the love of god.

I wipe my mouth angrily, then flop down into the chair with afuck you.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

I eye the salmon, which smells divine. It makes no sense to starve myself, so I pick up my knife and fork, and stab at it angrily.

I will win.

Dante is obsessed with me, and I have a few cards up my sleeves. I nudge the material of my dress so it’s creeping very close to my hard nipples, then lean over to grab a roll.

He watches me.

Like the predator he is, chewing and watching his prey.

Sorry Dante Baldassare, this time I am going to win. Because I’m playing for my life.

––––––––

DANTE

––––––––

Whoever chose this dress is going to lose their fucking head. I don’t like it anymore. She’s almost falling out of it, and I can’t stop looking at her breasts.

Running my hand down her back moments earlier sent rockets of arousal straight to my cock. If I had my way, she’d be sitting on it right now.

Yes.

Liar. She thinks she can manipulate me, but there is no way Adelina is suddenly interested in fucking me now she’s under my guard and control.

Oh, she wants to fuck me. But she’s lying to herself about why.

She believes it’s for her freedom.

I watch her sway to the music in her chair as she sips on her dessert wine, a sticky Vin Santo.

I stand without thinking.

I can’t be this far away from her.