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Dario dipped his head to take an obvious sniff of my hair. “You may smell like sugar, but I’m finally beginning to realize how dangerous you could be, piccola fiamma.”

Little flame.

I shivered as his hand slid up to collar my throat.

“The sweetness is just a ruse, isn’t it?” he murmured, watching us both in the mirror.

We looked stunning together. Dario in his classic black tuxedo, me in my flame finery.

“I think it’s time I faced the heat and got to know the real Fiammetta,” he whispered into my ear before nipping the shell.

He chuckled as I shivered and then pressed his hips into my backside so I could feel the thick ridge of his erection.

Dario’s free hand dipped into the low back of my dress, two fingers sliding in the crease of my ass until they settled at my pussy.

“Still leaking my cum,” he noted with growling satisfaction. “But not enough to drip down your thigh under this pretty dress. Should I flip up the silk and fuck another load into you, pretty flame?”

I shuddered almost violently and struggled to keep from leaning back into his warm strength. “It would stain the dress.”

He laughed, a short, genuine guffaw I rarely heard. “Maybe I want other men to smell my spend on you and know you’re taken.”

“That’s what wedding rings are for,” I tried to volley back, but my voice was too breathy, and my hips were churning in tight, little circles against his gently caressing hand.

Dario hummed, one hand flexing around my throat just enough to restrict my airway and the other sliding two fingers to the hilt inside me. He pinned me as I squirmed and sighed, holding me up like the stand for the mannequin outside. I had to admit as I looked at myself under heavy lids, I made a pretty sight impaled on his fingers and constrained by a hand collar.

“I find men are more likely to heed more obvious signs of ownership,” he noted, rubbing his thumb at my neck until the makeup covering one of the hickeys he had given me just that morning was unveiled. “It would be irresponsible of me to let you loose looking so fucking gorgeous in a sea of greedy men.”

“What’s your excuse, then?” I asked, grinding down into his hand as I raised my own to curl around his neck and pull his face down beside me. “You expect me to let you walk around at some event looking like this without my own mark on you?”

The sound he made in the back of his throat was animal and untranslatable, a purring kind of resonance that spoke of deep-seated pleasure.

“You want to leave your mark on me, fiamma, I’m all yours.”

Without hesitation, I yanked him down by the hair and angled his head so I had access to his neck. His salt-musk flavor exploded on my tongue as I pulled his stubbled flesh between my teeth and sucked it almost viciously. Heat rose under his skin as I suckled at him.

His fingers pressed inside me, rubbing illicitly against my front wall until my knees went weak and I moaned against his throat.

When I was satisfied, I moved away to study the wine-stain purple mark I’d left in prominent place on the front of his strong, tanned neck. Even when he straightened and his hair swept into place around his shoulders, I could still clearly make out the hickey above his stark-white collar.

“Better,” I murmured huskily.

He hummed his agreement, slid his fingers out, and gave my wet pussy a one-two pat before pulling away completely.

“You’re just going to leave me like this?” I demanded, outraged.

My blood was thrumming beneath my skin to a percussion beat drummed out by his power over me.

I blinked as he raised his slick-coated fingers to his mouth and thrust them between his lips with a groan of pleasure.

“Like I said,” he spoke when he removed the digits. “Sugar sweet.”

“Why don’t you let me show you how much sweeter I can be?” I tried to seduce, spinning around to face him. I took those damp fingers at the base in my own hand and then slowly lowered my red lips over them to lick off any residue.

Dario’s eyes flashed from nearly white to pure black with desire. For a moment, I thought he would give in to this inferno crackling between us and fuck me right there in the dressing room.

The sound of soft chimes as someone entered the storefront seemed to jerk him out of his stupor, and he stepped away from me, letting our hands drop.

“If you’re good tonight,” he promised with his usual condescending arrogance, “I’ll give you a nice reward when we return home.”