I'M HIS ALONE

CHAPTER 15

THE FIRST KISS

They didn't even make it to the bedroom.

The moment the front door of the estate closed behind them, Dante had her pressed against it, his mouth claiming hers with a ferocity that stole her breath. His hands were everywhere—tangling in her hair, cupping her breasts, gripping her hips with possessive urgency. The expensive gown was suddenly too much fabric, too much barrier between them.

"Bella," he groaned against her neck, his fingers finding the zipper of her dress. "I need you. Now. Right now."

"Yes," she gasped, arching into his touch. "Yes, Dante. Please."

The dress fell to the floor in a whisper of silk, leaving her in nothing but lace lingerie and diamond jewelry. Dante stepped back to look at her, his eyes blazing with dark hunger, his chest heaving with the effort of restraint.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed. "So f*****g beautiful."

He lifted her into his arms, carrying her up the grand staircase as if she weighed nothing. His mouth never left hers, his tongue sweeping inside to taste and claim. By the time they reached his bedroom—a massive suite dominated by a king-sized bed and dark, masculine furniture—Bella was trembling with need, her body aching for him in ways she had never experienced before.

Dante laid her on the bed, following her down to cover her body with his. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, his hands roaming her curves with reverent hunger. Then he began to explore—his lips tracing her jaw, her neck, the hollow of her throat, moving lower with agonizing slowness.

"Tell me what you like," he murmured against her collarbone. "What makes you feel good. I want to learn you, Bella. Every inch. Every response."

"Everything," she gasped as his mouth found her breast through the lace of her bra. "Everything you do feels good."

Dante smiled against her skin, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. "Let's see if we can make it better."

He stripped away her lingerie, leaving her naked beneath him, and took a moment to simply look at her. His gaze swept over her body like a physical touch, dark and heated and filled with awe.

"Perfect," he whispered. "Absolutely perfect."

Then his mouth was on her, and Bella's world exploded.

He kissed his way down her body—her breasts, her stomach, her hips—until he reached the apex of her thighs. His tongue found her most sensitive spot, and Bella cried out, her back arching off the bed, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"Dante! Oh God, Dante—"

"That's it, baby," he murmured against her, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through her body. "Let go. Let me make you feel good."

His tongue was magic—teasing, circling, pressing with just the right amount of pressure. He learned her responses with terrifying speed, finding the rhythm that made her gasp, the angle that made her moan, the spot that made her see stars. Within minutes, Bella was writhing beneath him, her body climbing toward a peak she had never reached before.

"Dante, I'm going to—I'm going to—"

"Come for me, Bella." His fingers joined his tongue, sliding inside her, curling to hit a spot that made her scream. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel you."

The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, ripping a cry from her throat that echoed through the room. Her body convulsed, pleasure spiraling through her in endless waves, and Dante held her through it, his mouth and fingers coaxing every last tremor from her shaking form.

"Beautiful," he whispered, kissing his way back up her body. "So beautiful when you come."

Bella lay beneath him, boneless and breathless, her body still humming with aftershocks. "That was... I've never..."

"I know." He kissed her softly, letting her taste herself on his lips. "And we're just getting started."

He stood, stripping off his own clothes with hurried, jerky movements. Bella watched, her eyes widening as he revealed himself—broad shoulders, sculpted chest, narrow hips, and... oh God. He was magnificent. Thick and long and hard, jutting proudly from a nest of dark curls, the tip already glistening with arousal.

"You're staring," Dante said, a smirk playing at his lips despite the obvious tension in his body.

"You're worth staring at."

He climbed back onto the bed, settling between her legs, his hardness pressing against her entrance. "Tell me again, Bella. Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me."

"I want you," she breathed, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I want you inside me, Dante. Now. Please."

He entered her slowly, inch by agonizing inch, giving her body time to adjust to his size. Bella gasped at the stretch, the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled by him. He was big—bigger than she expected—and for a moment, there was pain mixed with the pleasure.

"Are you okay?" Dante asked, his voice strained, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she whispered, though her eyes were wet. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

He began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and depth. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting through Bella's body, building on the orgasm she had already had, pushing her toward something even more intense.

"Bella," Dante groaned, his forehead pressed against hers. "You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

"Harder," she begged, her nails digging into his back. "Please, Dante. Harder."

He obliged, driving into her with a force that shook the bedframe. The room filled with the sounds of their lovemaking—skin slapping against skin, breathless moans, whispered curses and promises. Dante's hands gripped her hips, angling her for deeper penetration, and Bella cried out as he hit a spot inside her that made her see white.

"That's it, baby," he panted. "Let me hear you. Let me know how good it feels."

"So good," she gasped. "So f*****g good, Dante. Don't stop. Please, never stop."

He didn't. He drove her higher and higher, his thrusts becoming erratic, his breathing ragged. Bella could feel another orgasm building, bigger than the first, a tsunami of pleasure that threatened to drown her completely.

"Dante, I'm going to come again. I can't—it's too much—"

"Come with me, Bella." His voice was a growl, his body tense as a bowstring. "Come with me, baby. Let go. I've got you."

The orgasm hit them both at the same time, a collision of pleasure that shattered them both. Dante roared her name, his body jerking as he spilled inside her, hot and deep and endless. Bella screamed, her body convulsing around him, milking him for every drop.

They collapsed together, tangled in silk sheets and sweat, their hearts hammering in sync. Dante rolled to the side, pulling her with him, cradling her against his chest as they both struggled to catch their breath.

"Bella," he whispered, his lips pressed against her hair. "My Bella. Mine."

"Yours," she agreed, her voice sleepy and sated. "I'm yours, Dante."

It was the first time she had said it without anger, without reservation, without the weight of captivity between them. And as Dante held her through the night, his arms wrapped around her like steel bands, Bella realized that she had crossed a line she could never uncross.

She had given herself to her captor. And the terrifying truth was, she didn't regret it at all.

---