Dante moved before she could fight it.
Before she could stop herself.
Before she could find another excuse to lie.
His lips crashed into hers, hard, demanding, unyielding.
Bella shattered.
Her body melted against his, her breath stolen, her hands trembling as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, deeper, rougher.
It wasn't a kiss.
It was a battle.
A war.
A claiming.
"Tell me you still feel it," Dante growled against her mouth, his hands gripping her like he could force the truth out of her.
Bella gasped as his teeth scraped her throat, as his breath sent shivers down her spine.
"I—"
She wanted to deny it.
Wanted to lie.
Wanted to pretend that she could still fight this.
But she couldn't.
Not anymore.
Not when he touched her like this.
Not when his body fit against hers so perfectly, so cruelly, so painfully familiar.
Dante pulled back just enough to look at her, his blue eyes burning.
"Say it, Bella."
His voice was hoarse, raw, desperate.
"Admit that you're still mine."
Bella's throat burned.
Her body shook.
And then—
She broke.
"I never stopped being yours."
The words barely left her lips before Dante devoured her.
And this time—she didn't fight him.
She let him win.
Because she had never stood a chance against him in the first place.