The Bastard's Betrayal (Scandalous Scions 1)

He wasn’t playing a role now.

He grabbed her hips, ignoring her squawk of protest, and pulled her back until she stood between his thighs. Touching her instantly eased something in him. She wasn’t walking down the aisle to Romeo Capparelli. She wasn’t putting his ring on her finger or driving him wild with lust as he worked to get her out of this masterpiece of a dress.

She was here, with Dante. “Hold perfectly still.”

“I’m going to gut you. Rough and messy. You’ll be left standing there, holding your intestines, and regretting ever meeting me. It will be lovely.” She said it so pleasantly, he grinned. Vicious little beast, wasn’t she?

He pulled his switchblade from his pocket and opened it with a near-silent swish. She heard it, though, because she tensed even more. Dante considered his options. Top to bottom, he decided. He reached up and flicked the blade against the top button. It fell to the ground, leaving the flesh-colored mesh fabric to part and reveal her actual skin beneath. He repeated the process, working his way down. He held his breath, barely resisting the urge to do anything about inch after inch of her bare skin being revealed right there in front of him.

He wanted to taste her, to touch her, to toss her to the floor and fuck her until she forgot all about marrying Romeo fucking Capparelli. Until she admitted she belonged to Dante and Dante alone.

Patience.

He didn’t have much to pull from. When he wanted something, he took it, and people fell all over themselves getting out of his way while he did. That wouldn’t work with Rose. Maybe it shouldn’t excite him to know that his identity actually made her harder to seduce, that she would fight him until he proved his dominance, but Dante liked what he liked.

Right now, he liked Rose.

He reached the end of the buttons and cut the last one free. She’d moved her hands to her chest, holding the dress in place, and he allowed it for now. The muscles on either side of her spine flexed as she shifted, shaking just a little bit. In fear? Desire? He couldn’t tell. Not without seeing her face, and even then, he couldn’t be sure.

Not when she lied just as well as he did.

He dragged the flat of his knife down her spine, mostly to see what she’d do. Other than sucking in a sharp breath, she gave no response. Interesting. He considered her another moment and then set the knife aside. The little zipper at the small of her back tried to stick, but he muscled it down, dragging it along the curve of her ass. There.

Dante took her hips again, dipping his hands beneath the now-loose fabric. “Let go.”

“Fuck off.”

“Rosa.” He put enough threat into his voice to make her tense. “Let go.”

She sighed in exasperation and her hands dropped to her sides. The dress immediately went slack, and he slid his hands down the outside of her thighs, pushing the fabric ahead of him. Beneath it, she wore only a pair of red panties, the kind that were cut high against her ass. Not quite a thong, but not full coverage, either. He dragged his hands back up to her hips and traced his thumbs over the lace. “Aren’t brides supposed to wear white?”

“I wasn’t planning on playing the virgin for my new husband, so no.”

Rage rose in a red wave to match her panties. It nearly swept him under. He inhaled slowly, letting her scent consume him. It didn’t matter what she’d planned on doing to—with—Romeo Capparelli. She was here now, with him. That motherfucker would never touch her. Unless… His grip tightened on her hips. “Did you fuck him already, Rosa?”

“Yes. Definitely. In every position. He made me come so hard, I forgot my name, and then he fucked my ass and did it again.”

He spun her to face him, catching her hips again when she nearly toppled. Having Rose’s perfect tits right at eye level nearly derailed him, but her words still rang in his ears. “You don’t like anal.”

“The co-ed you dated didn’t like anal, Jackson.” She was beautiful in her fury, eyes blazing, and skin flushed. She leaned down and gripped the top of his seat. Dante didn’t mean to retreat, but his back found the seat all the same. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he had a moment to curse the fact he was still wearing clothes before she kept speaking, her voice low and vicious. “I didn’t bother to pretend with Romeo. I sucked his cock in the back seat of his car, fucked him in the coat room of our favorite restaurant, and let him finger me whenever he fucking felt like it. He makes it so good, and I’m always wet for him. I never faked it with him.”