Page 4 of Tell Me You Want Me

“Me,” I reply calmly, not moving a single inch. My eyes drag slowly down her body, taking in every single detail before drifting back to her face. “Hello, wife. I was just about to come find you.”

“Don’t youwifeme, Dante!” she snaps, her voice echoing off the marble floors of my foyer. She shoves her left hand into the air, right beneath my nose. The diamond I bought for her flashes radiantly under the lights. “What is this? What isallof this?”

“That’s an eight-carat flawless diamond on a platinum band,” I reply dryly. “And if I remember correctly, which I do, you told me you wouldn’t say yes to a minister unless the rock matched the trouble I was going to cause you.” Her jaw drops open and her blush creeps from her chest to her throat.

“I was drunk on champagne and clearly, I have terrible judgment. This is a mistake, Dante. A massive, illegal, chaotic mistake, and we are fixing it right now.” Her voice rises another octave.

“Is that so?” I uncross my arms slowly, sliding my hands into my pockets. Her gaze catches on the platinum band she slid on my finger. “How do you propose we fix it, Alexandria?” I crowd her space, watching her pupils widen with desire.

“An annulment, for one,” she declares, lifting her chin up in defiance. “We go down to the courthouse, we sign the paperwork, we tell a judge it was an impulsive lapse in judgment that was never executed properly, and we get this marriage annulled. Today.” I let out a low, gruff chuckle that makes her narrow her eyes.

“No can do, wife,” I say softly, stepping forward once more, this time until the toes of my leather shoes brush hers. Alexandria stands her ground, though I see the frantic flutter of her pulse in the hollow of her throat.

“What do you mean, no can do? It’s been less than two days. There’s no way the ink is even dry yet!”

“It’s entirely legal, registered with the state of Nevada, and as far as an annulment…” I lean down, my face mere inches from hers, letting my dark eyes lock on hers with a heavy, possessive intent. “An annulment requires the marriage to be unconsummated. And unless that wild, breathless memory I have of you screaming my name at three in the morning was a dream, along with the scratches on my back and chest, this marriage has been thoroughly consummated.” Her breath hitches sharply. A gorgeous deep crimson washes over her cheeks, but she refuses to look away. Fuck, but I like that about her.

“That doesn’t count!” she argues, her voice trembles slightly now. “We didn’t know what we were doing. I’m hiring a lawyer, Dante. I’ll file the damn paperwork myself, and if you fight me on this, I’ll take it to court.”

“Go ahead,” I murmur. My voice drops into a dark, commanding tone. “Push it, Alexandria. See what happens.”

“Are you threatening me?” she demands, attempting to sound tough, but her shallow breathing betrays her.

“I’m stating a fact.” I take another slow step forward. This time, she takes an instinctive one back, her heels hitting the elevator doors. “I have enough money, enough influence, and enough high-priced attorneys to tie you up in legal fees for years upon years. I can drag a trial out until we’re old and gray, wife. You’d be tied to me in court for the rest of your life.”

“You wouldn’t.” She swallows hard.

“Try me,” I whisper, reaching out, my large hand coming up to rest on the wall right beside her head, trapping her in my space. “Though, if I’m being entirely honest with you...” I trail off, stepping fully into her personal bubble, my chest brushing against hers, letting her feel the heavy, unyielding heat of my body, and my aching fucking cock. I lower my head until my lips are brushing the shell of her ear. My warm breath makes her shiver. “I’d much rather tie you to my bed than spend my time in court fighting for my wife.”

Alexandria gasps, a sharp, helpless sound that vibrates against my skin. I pull back just enough to look into her pretty, green eyes. They’re wide, dark, and swimming with a mix of fury, panic, and undeniable heat that she couldn’t hide from me if she tried.

“You are infuriating.” Her lips part, soft and full, inviting me in. Her hands go to my chest. Instead of pushing me away, they rest there instead. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, securing her to me. “You think you can just command me? You think you own me because you put a ring on my finger?”

“I don’t think, Alexandria,” I growl, my hand moving from the wall to cup her jaw, my thumb tracing the plump curve of her bottom lip. “I know. Look at me.” She does as I ask, her gaze locking onto mine. “You belong to me,” I tell her, my voiceraw, rough, and entirely possessive. “You woke up wearing my diamond, as my wife. And I keep what’s mine.”

“Dante...” I don’t let her finish. I lean down, and my mouth cuts off her protest with a fierce, demanding kiss. For a half a second, she stays rigid against the door. A tiny whimper of protest catches in the back of her throat. But when I deepen the kiss, taking complete control, my hand sliding down her throat to wrap securely around the back of her neck, tilting her head to give me access…

She doesn’t fight me.

She surrenders on a soft sigh, melting into me. Her arms slither over my broad shoulders, fingers twisting tightly into my dark hair. She parts her lips, welcoming my tongue, returning the kiss with a desperate, fiery hunger that matches my own, stroke for stroke. I pull her flush against my body, one hand gripping her waist tightly before slipping lower, until the palm of my hand cups her ass, lifting her slightly off her feet until she’s on my level. The kiss went from a punishment to hot, wet, and completely consuming.

“Still want that annulment, wife?” I pull away for a fraction of a second. Her lips are swollen from our kiss. Alexandria’s hands clutch my shoulders for support, and when I lift her higher, she wraps her legs around my waist. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out, and before she can think better of it, I swallow any protest she can make.

CHAPTER THREE

alexandria

My logical reasoning didn’t just leave the building—it disintegrated into a million tiny pieces the second my feet left the marble floor. Before I can draw another ragged breath, Dante’s hands are under my thighs and behind my back, sweeping me into his arms with an effortlessness as if I weigh nothing at all.

“Dante.” I let out a sharp gasp. My hands lock around his neck. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. His mouth returns to mine, destroying every lingering thread of resistance I have left. He carries me through his tower in the sky, his long, steady strides powerful and purposeful. Each step he takes jars our bodies together, making my core slide against his hard length. My biker shorts and his pants do nothing to hide our mutual desire. Every press of his lips draws a needy whimper from the back of my throat.

I’m drowning in Dante Lombardi, and I don’t want to come up for air, not yet at least. He smells like raw, masculine power. Bright mandarine cuts through the space, and a soft undertone of lavender settles against my senses, and undeniably him. Then comes pine, deep, smooth, and rugged enough to have me imagining his broad shoulders, expensive cuff links, and handsthat look just as good wrapped around a crystal glass as they do around my waist.

We burst through the double doors of his master bedroom, dark, luxurious, and dominated by a massive bed that looks like it’s floating from the wall. Dante sets me down, barely able to contain himself and me to keep my footing as he tears at my clothes.

“Dante...” His name is torn from my chest as his fingers hook in the collar of my jean jacket, stripping it down my arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“Hush, wife,” he growls against my lips. His hands move with a desperate speed that matches the wild cadence of my rapidly beating heart. “I think you’ve done enough talking today.” Buttons pop as he tears open my button-down shirt. And beneath is a cropped tank top, exposing me to the cool air of the room.