Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 160

Dante's POV

Gianna pressed her body against mine, her lips finding my neck, my jaw. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt. She was trying to seduce me, using the one weapon she knew would work.

And God help me, it was working.

Heat flooded through my system despite my anger. My body responded to hers instantly, the way it always did.

She was my weakness, my addiction, my downfall.

"Dante..." She breathed my name against my chest. "Put yourself in my shoes for just one second. If you saw me grinding against another man, would you stop to ask questions? Or would you..."

She didn't finish, but she didn't need to.

If I'd walked in and seen her like that, I wouldn't have asked questions. I would have killed him.

She was right. She had every right to be upset, to doubt. Because I would have done worse.

And with the adrenaline still coursing through me, the sting of her distrust, and the need I'd been holding back for months, something inside me broke.

I grabbed her hips and spun her around, pressing her back against the wall with enough force to make her gasp.

My body caged hers in, one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks.

"Don't." The word came out guttural.

"Don't what?" Her breath came faster, arousal mixing with lingering fear in those beautiful eyes that had looked at me with such betrayal moments ago.

"Don't put that image in my head." I leaned in close, my lips brushing her ear. "Unless you want me to lock you in this room for the rest of your life and never let another man within a hundred feet of you."

My cock pressed hard against her stomach, the fabric of my pants doing nothing to hide how much I wanted her.

Blood rushed south, making me throb with need.

"I'm sorry." Her head tilted back. "I couldn't think straight. I saw you with her and I lost my mind."

"I planned a romantic night." My hand slid from her hip to her throat, fingers wrapping around the column of her neck in a possessive hold. Not squeezing, just claiming. "Rose petals. Candles. Making love to you for hours until you forgot your own name. But you had to let your reckless side ruin it. And now I have to punish you."

"Dante..." She breathed my name, desire making her voice husky. "I…"

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the knife I always carried. The blade gleamed in the dim light as I flicked it open.

Her eyes went wide, genuine fear flashing across her face. "Dante, what are you…"

"You've done enough talking." I pressed the flat of the blade against her collarbone, watching her shiver. "All you've done tonight is make accusations and throw things at my head. Now it's my turn."

"Dante, please."

"Please what?" I traced the knife down, following the neckline of her dress. "Please stop? Please continue? You need to be more specific, bella."

The knife caught on the first lace of her corset. One flick of my wrist and it snapped.

She froze completely, holding her breath.

One quick movement and the bra snapped apart, the clasp giving way under the blade's pressure. The cups fell away from her breasts, exposing them to my hungry gaze.

"Beautiful." The word came out reverent despite my anger. "So fucking beautiful."

The knife moved lower, tracing down her stomach. She whimpered, the sound going straight to my cock. I could feel her muscles quivering beneath the blade's touch.

I hooked the knife's edge under the waistband of her panties at her hip.

"Dante, please." Fear made her voice high and breathy.

"I told you." I met her terrified gaze with my own dark one. "Everything comes off. This is tradition. When a De Luca claims his wife, nothing remains between them."

I sliced through one side of her panties, then the other. The delicate lace fell away, leaving her completely naked before me. Completely vulnerable. Completely mine.

She trembled violently, her hands coming up to cover herself instinctively.

"Don't." I caught her wrists with my free hand, pinning them against the wall above her head. "Don't hide from me. Never hide from me."

I tossed the knife aside. It clattered against the floor somewhere behind me, forgotten. I didn't need it anymore. I had her exactly where I wanted her.

My eyes devoured every inch of her. Despite the tear stains on her cheeks, despite the mascara smeared beneath her eyes, despite the genuine fear making her shake, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.