Chapter 9: Standing Naked Before Him

Gia’s POV

The door slammed shut behind us.

Before I could gather my breath, Dante tossed me onto the massive bed like I weighed nothing. The mattress dipped beneath me, but my heart fell faster.

I scrambled instinctively, retreating toward the headboard, my knees drawn in like a shield. But it was useless. There was no shielding myself from him, not from the way he looked at me, not from what I knew was coming.

He stood at the foot of the bed, tall and still, his presence swallowing the room. And his eyes, God, those eyes, grey and burning. The way he looked at me sent tingles shooting down my spine, awakening parts of me I didn’t even know existed.

“Come here,” he ordered.

I froze.

When I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, he stepped forward, grabbed my ankle, and with one smooth, possessive tug, dragged me toward the edge of the bed like I was his property.

“Pretty doll,” he murmured. “You do know what’s about to happen.”

My mouth parted, but no sound came out. So I nodded, a soft surrender.

He cupped my cheek as his thumb brushed over my skin, gently, and it confused me. It shouldn’t have felt good, but it did. Too good.

A tremble coursed through me, and I flinched, not from fear but from the rush of sensation his touch provoked.

“I’m ready,” I whispered, lying back stiffly, eyes squeezing shut. “You can start.”

That was a desperate lie. I was anything but ready.

My entire body trembled, not just from fear but from the weight of everything.

This wasn’t about it being my first time, but everything else.

My father made sure I was never allowed to have friends, let alone a boyfriend.

I’d never so much as kissed a boy, never gone to parties, never flirted.

I wasn’t allowed on dates, not to school dances, not even to the mall without a guard.

The men he assigned to me made sure no one ever dared to get close.

I wasn’t allowed to watch anything romantic or remotely inappropriate. Everything I did was monitored.

The only glimpses I had of what romance or sex could be like came from the forbidden novels my aunt used to sneak under my pillow, and from what I learned in biology class.

That was it. Just the basics.

And now, I was lying here, nervous, completely out of my depth, about to be touched and claimed by a man who saw me as nothing but a body to unleash his revenge on.

When I opened my eyes, I expected to find him undressing or climbing over me.

But he hadn’t moved.

He stood there, watching me in disbelief.

He tilted his head and let out a low chuckle, soft and almost mocking.

“Pretty doll,” he repeated, voice heavy with something darker. “You don’t make the rules here. I do. And no… you’re not just going to lie there like a piece of meat waiting for slaughter.”

His tone shifted, deeper, more primal. “You will be a willing participant.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Lying here without screaming while you do whatever you want, that’s participation enough. Don’t expect more.”

His smirk deepened. “You love testing me, don’t you? That mouth of yours...”

He moved closer. His thumb brushed over my lips so seductively it made me gasp.

“You’re going to learn what happens when you test me.”

“I… I wasn’t trying to,” I stammered. But even I didn’t believe it.

“Shhh.” He raised a single finger. “No more excuses.”

Then, with a glint of heat and hunger in his gaze, he said darkly, “Now, pretty doll… I want to see you naked.”

“What?”

“Strip,” he repeated, slower this time. “A special tease. Just for me.”

My insides twisted with disgust. “No. I won’t,” I said firmly. “I refuse to dance naked for the man who shot my father.”

His expression shifted slightly, and a glint of amusement flashed in his eyes.

“You’re aware I bought your virginity?”

“And I’m fulfilling my end,” I fired back, chin high. “I’m offering my body. But you’re asking for something more.”

“More?” His voice dipped, colder. “You have no idea how much more this is going to be. You think this ends tonight?”

He reached for me again, dragging his fingers from my jaw down the center of my chest.

His touch was light, maddening. He paused at my cleavage, his thumb dipping between the swell of my breasts, barely grazing.

“You haven’t signed the mistress contract yet… but that doesn’t change what you are. And if you think you’ll keep your pride and your rules in this arrangement,” he leaned in, voice like a warning, “you’re sorely mistaken.”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet his eyes. “Then I’ll hold onto the one thing I still have left. Because I haven’t signed.”

That did it.

The smirk disappeared, replaced by a burning look of anger.

“Don’t play smart with me,” he warned. “It won’t end well.”

I shifted subtly away from his touch, his presence suffocating.

“I told you before, no part of you would be spared in this. And if you value that little college bargain you begged for, the one I generously intend to add to the contract...”

His voice became cruel again. “Then get up. Strip. And make it worthy.”

My throat tightened. My chest ached. I wanted to push back at him.

But I was also afraid he’d change his mind about the one thing I begged for, college.

That he’d take it back with a snap of his fingers. That he’d remind me again who held the power here.

Swallowing hard, I sat up from the bed, mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen. Gia, just do it.

His eyes were on me the second I stood, scanning, devouring, making it hard to breathe.

I could feel his gaze trailing along my skin like a slow burn, every inch he lingered on sparking something electric inside me.

I hated how easily these strange feelings stirred up in me.

I reached for the hem of my clothes clumsily, trying to get it over with quickly, just get it done.

But his voice stopped me.

“Not so fast,” he murmured, the annoyance in his tone freezing me in place.

“Slowly... and seductively.

I want to see all of you… opened up for me.”

Then he moved, reached for a remote on the nearby table, and pressed a button.

The lights dimmed into a soft golden glow, and it felt like I’d stepped into another world, half real, half dream.

He walked to the table, poured himself a glass of scotch, and returned to the bed. He sat down with his legs spread wide, glass in hand, like a king expecting his entertainment.

His eyes never left mine.

“Dance for me.”

“I’m... not much of a dancer,” I replied, fidgeting under the heat of his stare. “I’ve never…”

“Quit arguing,” he cut in. “You’ll obey every word I say. No thinking. Just feel. Follow my voice.”

I sucked in a deep breath.

“Close your eyes,” he continued, his tone softening but no less firm. “Let the music lead you.”

Everything in me resisted at first, the awkwardness, the awareness of his gaze, the tight knot of fear in my chest.

But something in his voice… and the dim atmosphere pulled me in.

So I did it.

I shut my eyes.

The music rose around me, romantic confessions of what a lover was going to do to his partner on the bed, and I let it seep into my skin. I stopped thinking and just let the beat lead me as my hips began to sway slowly.

My arms followed, lifting above my head, then sliding into my hair, fingers tangling through the strands with a lazy, seductive grace.

I turned, arching my back to the music, hands gliding down the center of my body, tracing the curve of my waist until they settled on my hips, rotating side to side, in rhythm, in surrender.

It didn’t feel like I was controlling it anymore, rather as if my body had broken free, led by something wild and untamed. A kind of freedom I had never tasted before.

Then I heard the sound of ragged breath.

I opened my eyes, startled, and found Dante watching me, his eyes wild and his scotch forgotten.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

“One piece at a time.”

With trembling fingers, I unhooked the flimsy bra. My breath caught as it loosened, fell, and my breasts spilled free.

His gaze dragged over them like he was starving. My nipples tightened under the heat of his stare.

Still, I kept moving as I reached for my shorts and pushed them down my hips, letting them slide off before flinging them aside.

The longer he looked at me like that, as though I was the only thing he could see, as though my body had power, the more I started to crave it. To enjoy it.

I swallowed as my hand moved downwards, almost shakily, brushing along my hips. The moment my fingers hooked in the waistband of my panties, my nerves rushed in.

I wiggled my hips, slowly sliding the lacy material down my legs. It pooled at my feet, and I stepped out of it.

His gaze trailed low and lingered on the soft V between my thighs. Heat exploded across my face as a wave of shame shot through me.

I instinctively closed my hand over my mound, the other arm flying up to shield my breasts.

“Gianna,” his voice cut through the music.

My body trembled from the dark guttural sound of his voice.

“Take your hands off,” he commanded again, firmer this time. “I want to see everything.”

Then slowly, I lowered my arms. First from my breasts, then from between my legs.

“Don’t ever hide your body,” he murmured, eyes locked on me. “Not from yourself. And never from me.”

Now I was standing before him completely naked.

He got up from his seat and started walking toward me.

The closer he came, the faster my heart beat. My cheeks burned, and I could barely breathe.

Then it started again, that feeling I didn’t understand. A warm, throbbing ache built between my legs, growing stronger with every step he took.

Gia… what is this monster doing to you?