He pulled the sheet away from her body, revealing bruises on her hips, her thighs, her breasts from his hands and mouth.
Evidence of his possession.
"You marked me," Isabella breathed.
"Yes. And I'm going to mark you again. So every time you look in the mirror, every time you move and feel the ache, you remember me. Remember this. Remember that Dimitri Valentino isn't the only man who can make you feel something."
Isabella should have protested.
Should have said she was too sore, too tired, needed time to recover.
But the truth was, she wanted this.
Wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to be desired so badly that he couldn't wait. Wanted to forget Dimitri for just a little longer.
"Okay," she whispered.
The man's eyes darkened with satisfaction.
***
POV: DANTE
Dante had Isabella exactly where he wanted her.
Vulnerable. Desperate. Willing to do anything for scraps of affection.
Perfect.
