Page 32 of Vow Of Fire

“Fuck you, Dante Marcelli.”

Only she could make my name sound sexy, even when she was bursting with rage. I caressed her throat, my fingers applying gentle pressure. It was a possessive gesture, but for some reason I wanted to prove her wrong.

I’d seen the way her nipples had puckered underneath her top when I’d run the back of my hand over them. I knew she was attracted to me; her body gave her away.

“That can be arranged,” I murmured, instantly regretting going there. Now I was picturing her naked, splayed out on the couch for me to enjoy. Her lips were parted, much like they were now, and she moaned while I sucked on those pert nipples.

Her cheeks flushed, even though her eyes shot ice-hot flames at me.

“You wouldn’t.”

“What? Force you? Of course not.”

She snorted.

“I’d make you beg for it.”

A bitter laugh burst from her, surprising me.

“You’re delusional, you know that?”

“I assure you, that is the one thing I’m not.”

She was staring at me, trying to make me out, but I gave nothing away.

Not the heat that spread through me as I imagined her pale body beneath me, her thighs parting as I lowered myself onto her. Not the stirring low in my groin as I thought about her moaning my name, pleading with me to take her. Not the burst of heat I knew I’d feel the moment I entered her, burying myself deep inside.

None of that.

Instead, I released her throat and leveled her with my gaze. She looked away first. Another win.

“You’re the devil,” she whispered.

She wasn’t wrong there.

“Welcome to hell,” I muttered.

9

AIRING MY DIRTY LAUNDRY

Evelyn

Dante had gone out for some air, and through the window, I saw him talking to one of the two armed guards who’d arrived sometime after Rocco had left. Judging by his pally demeanor and the way they thumped each other on the shoulder, they were firm friends.

Curious. Dante didn’t seem like the type to have friends. He wore the mask of a hardened mafioso—suave, ruthless, completely in control. I didn’t doubt he was all of those things, but there was something else beneath the surface. A flicker of humanity he probably didn’t even know was there.

Strangely, I felt it in his touch.

As bizarre as it sounded, there was a kind of warmth in his fingers. Something that had nothing to do with blood or body heat. When he’d wrapped his hand around my throat, it should have terrified me, should have made me feel small and powerless.

But it didn’t.

It felt… charged. Erotic, even, in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

I’m not saying I liked it. I’m just saying I didn’t hate it.

I let out a shaky breath. Maybe that was worse.