“Holy crap, do you know this guy, Evie?”

Anna looks shocked in a not-so-flattering way but it’s like I’m hearing her from inside a bubble. There’s only him and me in this club now, everyone else has faded from view. He’s standing right behind me. His crotch is so close to my ass I can feel the outline of his erection and it’s sending my body into overdrive.

“Sebastian Días,” he announces smoothly, extending his hand to Anna and deliberately brushing against my waist as he does. I jump sideways as if branded, as if this brief physical connection with him has seared my skin. Glancing down, I see the thick forearm with its olive skin and the light dusting of black hair – so familiar, so desired. I’m filled with a compulsion to grab hold of it and push it downwards to the place i’m craving him the most, just like that time in Africa. To feel those thick fingers sliding inside me again.

“Anna Williams. So err how do you guys know each other?” my friend stutters, jerking her hand away from him and shooting me the mother of all WTF looks.

“We met a while back,” Dante explains vaguely, as if I was nothing more than a passing flirtation at the back of a board meeting. “Manuel, why don’t you take Miss Williams up on her offer to dance? I’ll be happy to stay with Eve.”

Manuel nods a little too enthusiastically. “Of course, Señor Días… Anna?”

But Anna doesn’t budge. She keeps looking at me for guidance. She’s unsure if she should leave me alone with this dark and dangerous creature. “How do you know Manuel?” she asks suspiciously.

“We grew up in the same town in Colombia,” Dante says without missing a beat.

“It’s ok, Anna,” I say forcing another smile. “You go. Sebastian can walk me to a cab.”

“Only if you’re sure…” She shoots another wary glance at Dante.

“I am. Go, have fun,” I urge, sliding my gaze to Manuel again. There are too many loaded looks happening around here. He gets the gist straightaway.

“Come,” he says, taking my friend’s hand to lead her over to the dance floor. “I’ve been wanting to dance with you all evening.”

This seals the deal super-quick, and then there’s just us. Alone again, with my pulse rate climbing to dangerous levels and nervous sweat trickling between my shoulder blades.

“Aren’t you going to look at me, my angel?” he murmurs. “Aren’t you going to give me the benefit of that divine face?”

I turn slowly to his sharp intake of breath.

“There she is,” he breathes, tipping my chin up to stab me a million times over with those unforgiving dark eyes. “The light to all my wickedness and sin.”

There’s a hint of mockery in his voice but there’s an inherent truth there too. It’s like he’s reveling in our disparities tonight and a shiver of uneasiness courses through me.

My memories haven’t done him any justice. He’s far more beautiful than I remembered. The bruises are gone and there’s a fading scar on his forehead where the red weal used to be. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit and a crisp white dress shirt with the silver-grey tie loosened and the top button undone. I can’t tear my eyes away from those broad shoulders and tapered waist, the long, muscular length of his thighs… I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans or army fatigues but my god this man was born to wear these clothes. He smells fresh and clean like he’s recently taken a shower but there’s another scent that lingers on his skin. It’s one I can’t place. I watch his eyeline drop to my outfit.

“Come,” he snaps, his mood souring as he takes my arm and leads me towards the exit. “Let’s find somewhere a little more discreet, shall we?”

He’s commanding all the attention as we leave the club together, which only serves to highlight our disparities more. He’s tall and elegant, his walk a compelling swagger of power and ownership. He’s a king in this world and I’m barely a footnote. He steers me towards an idling SUV with blacked-out windows and I recognise it immediately.

“Is that…?”

“Yes.”

It’s the same car from the night we met. The very night he took me, bound my body to his for eternity and then walked away. I recall my fear when he forced me onto the backseat, how his fingers felt around my neck, the first pangs of lust as he loomed large and threatening over me… He opens the door. This time I go willingly.

“Hello again, Miss Miller,” Joseph murmurs from the driver’s seat.

“Less talking, more driving,” Dante snaps, sliding in next to me. “I spoke with Sanders. The deal is on.”

What deal?

I know better than to ask. He’s got that primal ‘fresh from the kill’ look about him again that’s giving off warning signals in all directions. He turns to glare at me as I inch ever so slightly away from him but there’s no move to yank me back. After six weeks apart I’m desperate to taste his dark and all the ecstasy that he brings to my body but I’m too scared to initiate anything right now. Whatever he’s brooding on is pushing him beyond the limits of his control. If I move to touch him I know he’ll hurt me.

The car pulls away from the curb. He’s gazing out of his window now, his elbow resting on the lip of the door, his chin slotted between his forefinger and his thumb. The muscles are flexing hard in his jaw and there’s a fist clenched in his lap.

What’s going on?

The edgy silence persists, peppered only by the whirr of the engine and the swipe of the windshield blades as a light summer shower mottles the glass. Eventually we pull up to a gated mansion right on the waterfront. As we exit the vehicle Dante puts a hand on the hollow of my back and practically shoves me up the front steps and into the property. There are at least twenty armed men stationed around the house and Joseph, as always, is following us in silent, deadly pursuit. He peels off once we’re inside and disappears through an open door to my left.

“Get upstairs,” Dante growls, barely looking at me as I stand there shivering in his lobby. His sparse furniture and empty walls are a bit like his present mood. Nothing in this house is offering me any warmth. I watch him walk through an archway and into the adjacent living-area.

“I don’t ask twice, Eve.” His threat floats out from behind another of his bleak white walls.

“And I don’t jump to your every command,” I say, storming into the room after him. The furniture in here is practically non-existent. There’s a tan leather couch and a mini bar and not much else. My voice reverberates around the huge empty space, sounding weaker and more fragile with every passing echo.

He turns to face me and I instantly regret my outburst. His dark eyes are completely devoid of emotion. I shouldn’t provoke him when he’s like this, I know exactly what he’s capable of.

“If you insist on wearing outfits like that, Eve, then I’ll treat you with the little respect you deserve.”

My skyscraper heels skid to a halt.

“How dare you!” I screech. “We’re not in your fortress now, Dante. You don’t get to dress me up in pretty white clothes like your angelic fuck doll anymore.”

Glaring at me, he crosses the room to the mini-bar and pours himself an extra large drink. “You do whatever the fuck I tell you to do,” he says, downing his glass and slamming it back down on the counter. “And when the hell did you start drinking alcohol again?”

“It’s none of your business! Screw you and your controlling bullshit!”

He comes for me then, dark and dangerous and utterly mesmeric. “Take it off.”

I stare at him in shock.

“Take off that fucking dress, Eve, or so help me god I’ll rip it from your body.”

His words are like liquid fire to my core. I stagger away from him so he can’t see my naked lust, so he can’t exploit and revel in what he does to me. “Apologize first,” I gasp, trying to compose myself. Sordid images keep invading my mind. I want every single, glorious inch of him on me and in me.

He’s barely two meters away, and closing in fast. “I never apologize to anyone, my angel, you know that.”

“You did in Africa. Do it again now or I’m walking right out of this mansion and I’m not coming back.”

He grinds to a halt and stares at me as if he can’t quite believe I’ve got the balls to speak to him like this. “Don’t make your punishment any worse than it already is. Eve…”

Other women would be terrified by this threat but I’m not like other women. “Oh I’m counting on it,” I whisper, watching with dark delight as his gaze drops to devour me whole. My defiance does things to this man that no one else can.

“Ok then, I apologize,” he says softly, taking another step towards me, his dark eyes holding mine captive. “I apologize for demeaning you. I apologize for leaving you for six weeks without my hard cock to satisfy you. I apologize for leaving your soft skin and your fuckable tits so bereft of my touch. I apologize for leaving you without my cum between your legs…” He prowls to a stop right in front of me and runs a leisurely finger down the length of my arm as I try not to flinch away. “But most of all I apologize for the way I’m going to bend you over this couch and fuck you hard until you scream.”

He lunges for me then, and our mouths collide in mutual frustration. He grabs me by the back of my hair, his fingers knotting painfully around my darkened strands as he skilfully tongue-fucks me, his taste as unique and it is potent. I grasp his thick bicep to steady myself as I moan helplessly into his mouth. No man in the world kisses like Dante Santiago. By some wicked devilry he can affect every part of my body with just a touch of those talented lips.

I’m tearing blindly at the front of his trousers now. I’m like a woman possessed. I have to have this man inside me.

“Did you miss me, Eve?” he growls, breaking away to help me out. Ripping at his belt so hard he breaks the buckle.

“I didn’t miss you being such a smart-ass, control-freak.”

“But you missed my cock.”

“Every damn day!”

“You’re mine mi alma. Don’t ever forget it.”

With his belt and zipper undone, he spins me around, wrenches my dress up and bends me over. He’s rough with his touch and I gasp in surprise as the lip of the couch bites into my lower stomach. He doesn’t bother to remove my panties any further than a few inches down my thighs before he’s kicking my legs apart and positioning himself.

“Shit!” I scream as he drives all the way into my body, splitting me into pieces. I’d forgotten how big he is. I’m wet but I’m still struggling to breath through the pain.

“Take it all,” he orders harshly. “I want your tight cunt gripping every inch of my cock.”

“Yes, oh yes,” I whimper, pushing back on him greedily despite the discomfort. Accepting everything he has to offer.

“Hold tight, my angel, here comes your punishment.”

He withdraws a fraction only to surge forward again, his new assault just as deep and violent as the first. Giving me no time to catch my breath, he fucks me like this, hard and fast, pinioning me against the leather, his hands like two vices clamped to my hips, forcing me to submit to him over and over. There’s no more dirty talk, no preamble, just an overriding urge to claim back what is his. Pain and pleasure are fusing together. My lungs are on fire. Each new thrust is ripping the air clean out of them and I can feel myself quickening already.

“Dante!” I sob as the waves of pleasure engulf my body. My tears of relief smear across my face as he continues to grind into me until shockingly the waves start to build again.

My inner muscles are still rippling with the aftereffects of my second orgasm when he tenses with a groan. I feel his cock jerk inside of me and then he’s pulling out and spinning me around to face him, his seed still spurting from his body. Positioning me on the edge of the sofa, he pulls my legs apart and drops to his knees to feast on my sex, closing his lips around my still-sensitive clitoris and drawing hard.

“Oh god… oh fuck!”

Seconds later I’m coming for a third time, crying out and grinding my sex into his mouth to intensify my pleasure. Afterwards I slump forward and wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in the sweat and vitality of his crook of his shoulder. He slides to the floor and pulls me down with him, cradling my throbbing body in his arms as we race to catch our breath together.

“I missed you so fucking much,” I hear him murmur as he nuzzles my hair. “Dreams were like torture. You were so present, so vivid, but when morning came it was like you’d been torn from my arms again.”

“Then why avoid me tonight?” I ask quietly.

“It’s complicated,” he sighs.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

His arms convulse around my shoulders. “Never question my affection for you.” He sounds really angry now. “I meant to leave but I couldn’t get past the exit knowing you were there. I had to see you. I had to taste you. Six weeks is an eternity to be parted from you.” He presses soft lips to my temple and my body shudders in response.

“That man in the club… Rick Sanders. He said Emilio was still alive.”

“He won’t get to you, my angel. I won’t let him. I have my army back. He gambled everything and lost. I’ve trebled your security in recent weeks. Half the men in Sanders’ club tonight were mine.”

He sounds so confident and so sure of his methods to keep me safe. As a result I feel a gossamer-thin veil of contentment drifting over me. I’m secure. I’m in his arms. There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. “You said you’d come back for me and here you are,” I say sleepily.

He shifts his position and pulls me closer. “I always keep my promises to you, Eve.”

“Are you back in Miami for a while?”

He shakes his head. “I can only fly under the radar of the authorities for so long. My business here is done. We travel to Colombia tomorrow night to resume the hunt for my brother.”

I can feel the edges of our future blurring again.

“One day at a time, my angel,” he sighs, sensing my despair.

“But it’ll be another day without you.” I clamber astride him, cupping his jaw in my hands and marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. “Now that you’ve returned to me I don’t want to let you go.”

“Always hunting. Always the hunted.” He looks exhausted suddenly. “It’s my penance for a life without morality.”

I consider his words. Perhaps there are some evils in this world that can never be atoned for?

I don’t believe this about him, though.

I have to trust in the light that I’ve sensed in him. He was a good man once. I have to believe that my betrayal of my brother will count for something.

“You can’t fix me, my angel,” he says softly, reading my mind again. “You can never undo the things I’ve done.”

“I have to try.”

He stares at me and I sense a part of him is desperately seeking validation in what I’ve said.

“Don’t overthink us so much,” I tease, echoing his own words back to him, lifting my hands to run my fingers through his silky, black hair.

He closes his eyes briefly, reveling in my touch, before he bucks his hips and pitches me forward into the solid wall of muscle stretching from his chest to his abdomen. “Smart ass,” he growls and I feel his arms closing in around me again.

“So, you’re wicked and depraved and you have really, really bad interior design skills,” I sigh, glancing around the room. “I bet you only screwed me over the sofa because you forgot to buy a bed.”

“Oh, there’s a bed, my angel,” he says, his voice suddenly husky with lust. “You’ll find out all about that later on.”

“Why later? Why not now?”

He lifts his eyebrows at me. “Insatiable, are we?”

“Insatiable for you only, Dante… Santiago.”

He kisses me then, crashing his lips against mine with a kiss so passionate and intense it draws tears to my eyes. “When Emilio is dead, mi alma, I will buy you a thousand mansions to decorate to your heart’s desire,” he declares fiercely.

“Don’t say that,” I whisper. “That’s our one condition, Dante, we never discuss the future. It’s too ambiguous. We have no way of knowing what it holds in store for us.”

“Can a man not dream a little? Or am I too far gone for that?”

Only time will tell, my devil.

“Do you really hate my dress that much?”

His expression darkens. “Yes.” And before I can stop him he’s dragged the zipper down and ripped it over my head. “There… much better. And don’t change the subject.”

I look down at my bare breasts, still glistening with beads of sweat. “Ok,” I shrug. “I’ll just wear panties and high heels next time I go clubbing.”

A low growl escapes his lips as he slides his palms beneath my ass cheeks and rises to his feet, lifting me effortlessly with him. He throws me onto the couch and stands there, looking down at me, as he refastens his zipper. “You can’t be trusted with clothing choices anymore, Eve. From tomorrow you’ll wear exactly what I tell you to. You don’t have a choice, young lady.”

“Never,” I grin, unhooking my black stilettos and chucking them at him, one at a time.

He ducks easily. “Is that another flash of defiance, my angel?”

“It depends… are we alone in this house?”

He frowns. “Of course. If any man so much as dares to come through that door…” I watch his face contort with fury at the thought of someone other than him seeing me naked. “Now, back to your insubordination… Would you prefer your next punishment here or upstairs?”

“Either sounds fun but you’ll have to catch me first.” As I say it I push myself off the couch and sprint for the hallway, catching him off guard. Cursing, he tries to catch my arm as I pass but I swerve out of the way just in time.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To seek out this mythical bed of yours!” I say, taking the smooth marble steps, two – three at a time, slapping my hands across my naked breasts to stop them bouncing all over the place. I almost make it to the top before a strong arm is sliding around my waist and lifting me high up into the air.

“I see your shoulder’s better,” I gasp as he folds me into him embrace and carries me like this to his bedroom.

“No thanks to you,” he snarls, chucking me into the middle of an enormous king size bed. He arches his eyebrows at me as if to say, “see? I wasn’t lying after all.”

Rising to my knees, I hook my thumbs seductively into the waistband of my panties. “Tell me what you desire tonight, Señor Santiago…” I never would have dreamed of taunting a man like this in the past. My lust for him is turning me into some sort of demon sex goddess.

“All of you,” he growls, ripping off his waistcoat and tie and shredding buttons in his haste to undress. “You tits, your cunt, your ass… I’m demanding everything and you will give it to me.”

I pause my striptease to rake my eyes across his upper torso. Tonight he’s part-devil, part-deity, from his muscular shoulders to the crude definition rippling across his abdomen. I want to run my tongue over every dip and arc and scar. He catches me staring at him.

“Do you like what you see, my angel?”

“No it’s exhausting,” I say wickedly. “I hate to think how much work you put in to have a body like that.”

He smirks and lowers his trousers. No underwear. Hard as stone, like always. Hard just for me.

“Take off your panties real slow for me,” he orders, moving closer to the bed.

I do as I’m instructed, delighting in the growing hunger in his face as I slide the scrap of black lace further down my legs before tossing them in his direction.

He beckons me closer with one crooked finger. “It would appear that my angel has a devil inside of her after all.”

“Sooner rather than later I hope.”

He laughs.

I’m mesmerized.

“Hold out your hands.”

I watch as he binds my wrists with my discarded panties and pulls the knot tight.

“Which version of me would you like this evening,” he croons, trailing an agonizingly slow finger down the centre of my body and through my soft folds before sliding it inside of me. “The devil or the monster?”

“Neither,” I groan, tipping my head back and widening my thighs to accept more of him. “Tonight I just want you.”