Chapter 44: An Unbreakable Bond
The tension between them was suffocating, thick enough to drown in. Isla paced the length of the bedroom, her body tense, her mind a chaotic mess. She had told Dante she wouldn't love him. She had convinced herself that she could resist him.
But every time he touched her, every time his dark gaze lingered on her like she was the only thing in the world, she felt her control slipping.
And the worst part? He knew it.
Dante was always watching, always waiting. He could see the way her resolve wavered, the way her breath hitched whenever he came too close.
She clenched her fists, forcing herself to push him out of her thoughts. He was dangerous, obsessive, and possessive to the point of madness.
But she was no better.
She couldn't stay away. No matter how much she wanted to.
The sound of the door opening made her freeze. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room before he even spoke.
"You're thinking about me."
His voice was low, a dark whisper against her spine.
Isla turned slowly, her heart pounding. "You wish."
Dante smirked, closing the distance between them in slow, deliberate steps. "I don't need to wish. I know."
She exhaled sharply, backing up until she hit the edge of the bed. "Don't be so sure of yourself."
He stopped right in front of her, his hands resting on either side of her, caging her in. His scent—leather, whiskey, and something undeniably masculine—wrapped around her, making her dizzy.
"Tell me you don't want this," he murmured, his fingers brushing against her hip.
Isla's breath caught in her throat. She should push him away. She should walk out. But instead, she stood frozen, trapped between logic and desire.
"You drive me insane," she whispered, hating how breathless she sounded.
Dante chuckled, the sound dark and knowing. "Good. Now you know how I feel."
His fingers tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. "No matter how much we fight, no matter how much you try to push me away, you always come back."
She swallowed hard, glaring at him. "And you always pull me back."
His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more intense. "Because you're mine, Isla. You've always been mine."
She hated the way his words made her stomach flip, the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. "You don't own me."
Dante's gaze darkened. "Then why are you still here?"
She had no answer.
Because the truth was, she couldn't leave. Even if she wanted to.
Dante reached up, his fingers tracing along her jaw before tilting her chin up. "You think this is hate? That this obsession is something either of us can control?"
She clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the heat building between them. "It's toxic."
His lips brushed against her ear. "It's inevitable."
Her breath hitched, and before she could stop herself, she was grabbing his shirt, pulling him down to her level. "You make me hate you," she whispered, their lips just inches apart.
Dante's smirk returned, but his eyes held something deeper, something raw. "And you make me worse."
Then, his mouth was on hers.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet.
It was war.
His hands gripped her hips as he backed her against the bed, his kiss consuming, claiming. She gasped against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling, demanding more.
Dante groaned, pressing her down against the mattress, his body covering hers, his hands roaming like he was memorizing every inch of her.
"This is why you can't leave," he murmured against her skin, trailing kisses down her throat. "Because you crave this just as much as I do."
Isla arched beneath him, her nails digging into his back. "I hate you."
He chuckled darkly. "I know."
But she kissed him anyway.
Because despite all the lies, the betrayals, and the madness between them—
Neither of them could stay away.