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Kaela wasn't sure what was worse: the way she trembled as his tongue explored her mouth, or the fact that she didn't want him to stop. She felt like a starving prisoner who suddenly had an appetizing dish set before her.

She had every reason to resist, to shove him off and run, and she doubted he would come after her once she locked her room door. This past week, he had treated her like, well, a prisoner. She didn't deserve that kind of treatment, and after everything, he didn't deserve access to her.

But then she still wanted him. "This is not right," she told herself, finding the courage to break the kiss.

His heavy-lidded gaze fell on her, eyes dark and alluring. His grip tightened around her waist.

"Is there a problem?" he asked. His breath smelled heavily of alcohol.

"You're drunk," she managed to whisper, more for herself than him. Staying this close to him was clouding her mind. She needed a reason, any reason, to stop this before it started.

Dante chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "So?"

So? Couldn't he guess what was wrong in giving herself to him when he wasn't even thinking straight? His arrogance was appalling. He didn't actually want her; he was just under the influence of alcohol. And even if he wasn't, he had no right to her.

She planted her hands against his chest, ready to shove him off, but the moment her palms met his warm skin, she faltered. His body was solid, burning, intoxicating.

"No," she murmured, but that didn't stop the warmth flowing through her. She shook her head as she tried to remember all the reasons this was a bad idea.

Dante studied her, amused by the confusion on her face. "Very well then," he said, his voice steady despite his drunken state. He let her go and stepped back.

"If you don't want me, run along," he continued, reaching beyond her to grip the stair railing to keep himself from stumbling.

Kaela blinked in shock. He was letting her go, just like that? This was so unlike Dante. She was supposed to beg him to leave her, and he'd refuse.

She should feel relieved. It was a good thing, wasn't it? Maybe he was actually learning how to become a gentleman.

Then why did her chest tighten as he turned away? Why did the idea of him leaving her alone tonight feel so much worse than the alternative?

Her body burned—not just from the heat of his touch but from the ache deep inside her. She hated herself for it, for how her skin felt cold without his hands on her.

But she needed him tonight. She'd tasted his lips, felt his strong, possessive arms, and now she wanted more. Sleeping alone was unbearable.

The pull was undeniable. Damn it. Before she could stop herself, she moved.

"Wait."

Dante froze when she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his back, breathing deeply. Could it be that she was as attracted as he was?

She swallowed hard, her pride warring with her need. "Stay."

Slowly, he turned back to her, one eyebrow arched. "Do you want me?"

She would never survive the embarrassment of admitting to her needs, she knew. But she said the words anyway. "Yes, I want you."

That was all the invitation he needed. With a growl, Dante grabbed her, yanking her flush against him. Kaela moaned against his lips as his hands roamed over her body, slipping the sleeves of her nightdress off her shoulders and proceeding to fondle her breasts. God, it felt so good...

Dante lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward his bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and she shuddered as his lips devoured the sensitive skin of her neck.

At the back of her mind, she knew that she could still stop this madness as long as he hadn't moved past that door. Instead, she arched her back, needing to feel him inside her. Could he hurry up?

By the time they hit the bed, there was no turning back.

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