Chapter 87: Chaining Her For My Pleasure
Dante’s POV
“Dante, I’m sorry, okay?” Her voice broke as the words rushed out. “I’ll apologize as many times as you want Yesterday was reckless and stupid, and it’ll never happen again. Just give me one more charice. Please.”
My hand moved slowly, giving her time to see it coming before my fingers closed around her chin. I tilted her face up, forcing her to meet my gaze. She gasped softly, her skin warm and trembling beneath my grip.
“I gave you my trust, Gianna,” the words came out rough and filled with anger. “Let you walk the grounds. Let you have those damn picnics you begged for. Gave you freedoms most people in your position wouldn’t even dream of.” My jaw tightened, the heat rising in my chest. “And this is what you did with it.”
“Dante, I was scared,” she whispered, her voice fragile. “That’s why I…”
“Scared?” The word came out as a cold laugh. “You think fear justifies betrayal?”
I leaned in until my breath brushed her lips.
“Let me show you what fear really is, baby,” I murmured, my voice dropping lower, darker. “Fear is standing in this room, knowing you’re completely at my mercy. Fear is realizing that every single thing that happens to you from this moment on… happens because I allow it.”
I watched her pupils widen, her lips parted slightly, whether to protest or to beg, I couldn’t tell.
My thumb brushed over her lips, making her draw in a shaky breath. I rolled her lower lip between my fingers, soft, warm, tempting enough to make my control slip for a second. I had to fight the urge to replace my finger with my mouth.
“Dante…”
“Quiet.”
She fell silent instantly.
“You’ve had your turn to act… and now it’s mine.”
I dropped my hand slowly, letting my fingers trail down her chin, her throat, feeling her swallow beneath my touch. Then I stepped back, needing the distance before I did something that would derail my plans entirely.
“So here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to kneel for me, right there.” I pointed to a spot in the center of the room, directly beneath the amber light.
“I… can’t…” she stammered, taking small steps backward, and the defiance sent a fresh wave of dark desire through me.
Anger flared inside me, mixed with arousal. Oh, she really didn’t want to do that.
“You can, and you will,” I said, my tone low and final. “Every second you make me wait only adds to what’s coming, Gianna. So unless you want to be hanging from that bar before you can take another breath, I suggest you move. Now.”
Gianna’s eyes shot upward to the suspension bar. Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. Then realization struck.
She moved forward quickly then dropped to her knees at the exact spot I’d indicated. The movement was immediate, graceful despite her trembling. Her hands came to rest on her thighs, fingers curling into the lace
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there.
“Glanna Giovanni.” 1 circled her slowly, drinking in the sight of her kneeling, vulnerable, mine Sneaky ant spineless, just like your father.”
She glared at me. “I’m not…” The words died as fear overtook anger.
A cold smile tugged at my mouth. She still had fight in her. Perfect. Breaking that spirit would taste even sweeter
“I’m going to ask you questions.” My voice left no room for argument. “And you’re going to answer them. Honest answers. Complete answers. No lies, no games, no manipulation.”
I studied her for a long moment, then asked, “How long have you been planning this?”
Gianna’s lashes fluttered as her mind worked furiously. I could almost see the thoughts racing behind her eyes. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and I had to suppress a groan at the sight.
“I… um… didn’t plan any of it,” she said at last, her voice trembling, “I saw an out, and I took it.”
Bullshit. It took her three seconds too long to answer, her eyes breaking from mine in the process. She was still lying. Still trying to play me. No remorse.
Fine. If she wanted to play it this way, I’d make sure she regretted it.
“This would be fun,” I thought, a cold thrill rippling through me. “Painful, maybe, but definitely fun.”
“The hard way it is,” I said flatly.
“Wait!” Her eyes widened with panic, but before she could move, I stepped forward and scooped her up easily. Her body collided with mine, soft, trembling, warm. The contact sent a jolt through me, her scent wrapping around me.
“No! Dante, please…” She struggled, pushing at my chest, kicking, fighting, every movement pressing her curves tighter against me until it became almost unbearable.
“Fight one more time,” I warned. “And I guarantee your punishment will be worse. Test me, Gianna.”
She went still immediately. But the begging continued, desperate words spilling from those lips I wanted to silence with my mouth.
“Please, I’m sorry, I’ll tell you the truth, please don’t…”
I ignored every word. Carried her to the suspension bar and set her down beneath it.
“Arms out,” I commanded.
She hesitated, tears pooling in those beautiful eyes. “Dante…‘
She really thought that trembling voice would save her? That she could hide behind those wide, innocent eyes and a few tearful apologies, as if that could erase what she’d done?
Not a chance.
“Arms. Out.”
Slowly, shaking, she stretched her arms overhead. The movement lifted her chest, pulled the lace tight, and I had to look away before I lost what remained of my composure.
I noticed the rope burns on her wrists from yesterday, still slightly red. That unwelcome surge of protectiveness
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સલ જાડુ કે ઉપમાં ર
rose again, clashing hard with my need to punish her,
I forced it down and reached for the leather cuffs.
I fastened the soft restraints around each wrist. I was careful not to aggravate the marks but firm enough th escape wasn’t an option.
“Don’t move,” I ordered, my voice rough as I secured the first cuff to the suspension chain.
She obeyed, standing completely still except for the quick rise and fall of her chest. I moved to her other wit letting my fingers drag deliberately along the inside of her arin as I fastened the second cuff. She gasped at the touch, and the sound went straight to my groin.
The metal above her head clicked into place. I gripped her wrists and gave the restraints a firm tug, first one s then the other, shaking them to test their strength. They held perfectly. She wasn’t going anywhere.
The knowledge sent something dark and primal coursing through me.
Then I knelt before her, bringing my face level with that tiny scrap of lace barely covering her center. I could well her arousal now, sweet and strong. Could see the faint dampness already forming on the fabric.
Fuck.
My hands shook slightly as I secured cuffs around her ankles. I let my fingers trail up her calves as I worked, feeling her muscles jump and tense beneath my touch.
I spread her legs slightly apart, not too wide, just enough to keep her immobile and vulnerable, attaching them to anchor points on the floor.
Standing slowly, I dragged my body up along hers, not quite touching, but close enough that she could feel my heat, close enough that my arousal brushed against her stomach through my pants.
She whimpered, and the sound nearly undid me.
I stepped back, forcing myself to breathe, to stay in control.
“Perfect,” I rasped.
She hung there, arms spread wide above her head, legs slightly apart, completely exposed in that barely–there lingerie. The position emphasized every curve, every line of her perfect body.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
