Rather than ravaging me, Dante returned his attention to the rope. I was thoroughly immobilized, but he tied me tighter, moving at a leisurely pace now that I had no hope of hitting out at him. Pain was a dull throb on my bound legs, digging deep with every pulse of blood through the length of my limbs.

My captor wound the rope around my bare chest, the abrasive fibers lightly scratching my sensitive skin. My nerves sparkled beneath it, tingling with awareness as he kept my body on high alert. The binding framed my breasts, drawing tight until they were thrust out on lewd display. His eyes darkened as he continued his perverted work, amusing himself with tightening the bindings to the edge of pain, until my breasts swelled and became hypersensitive to every brush of his calloused fingertips.

“You’re sick,” I accused on a ragged whisper, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

“And you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he replied, completely unperturbed by my insult.

He trailed the abrasive rope over my tight nipples, and sparks ignited on my skin, dancing down my abdomen in hot lines. They pinged along my clit, lighting up my sex with carnal awareness.

My cheeks burned.

No. Not again. Luca had forced me to feel pleasure in order to ease his harsh claim over my body, but surely, I wouldn’t be capable of enjoying any aspect of what Dante was doing to me.

He caught my peaked nipples between two lengths of rope and pulled it taut at my back, pinching the sensitive buds. My head dropped back on a wail, a sound of desire and despair.

“So beautiful,” he rumbled, nuzzling my hair.

A small, broken sound keened from my chest, and I felt his cruel smile against my neck as he trailed his hot tongue along my vulnerable artery. He kept my nipples trapped as his free hand skimmed up my bound and aching thigh. More sparks danced along my soft skin as he traced around the diamond patterns that dug into my tender flesh, as though he was memorizing the shape of them through touch.

“Please,” I whimpered when his fingertips brushed the edge of my underwear. I couldn’t bear this. My soul wouldn’t survive the shame of what was to come if he continued toying with me.

“I want my kiss, my pretty bride,” he murmured, brushing his lips along my collarbone.

“I’ll do it,” I panted, trying to squirm away. All I earned were deeper bruises on my bound legs. “I’ll kiss you. Just let me go. Please…”