Page 60 of The Don's Secret Heir

The tension in the air is palpable. I can feel Dario’s eyes glaring at my back.

“Maybe not tonight,” I say quietly, pushing him away, but he whines.

Dario clears his throat.

Benedict looks at him as if seeing him for the first time and swallows visibly, putting his hands up.

He walks away without a fuss but Dario grabs onto my elbow, almost roughly.

“Hey,” I mutter, but then he’s dragging me up the stairs and into an empty room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His breath is hot on my neck as he backs me up against the bed. My knees hit the back of the mattress and, still tipsy, I go down, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“He asked me to dance. I said no.”

“Didn’t look like no to me. You were touching him.” His jaw is clenched tight, a muscle jumping there. “You’re supposed to act like mywife,not some mafia groupie.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a whore?”

He huffs out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m just saying, be...”

“Be what?”

“Be mywife,”he says, clearly frustrated, and I look up at him blankly.

“I told him no, Dario. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

“Maybe act like you’remine, for once.” His voice comes out a low mumble and he leans down, cupping my face and kissing me even as I start to protest.

I’m nothis. Not anymore. Maybe I never was.

But God, I want his hands all over me. I want them ripping off this expensive dress, trailing down between my legs...

It’s like the only time I feelanythingsince my father disappeared is when Dario is touching me.

What does that say about me? That the man who ruined me is the one who’s also saving me?

“Li,” he says against my lips but I’m too far gone.

I’ll blame it on the champagne later, but now, all I want is him.

I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him again and again and his fingers are already at the zipper on my dress, slowly sliding it down over my shoulders.

His breath hitches when my breasts break free, bouncing out of the bodice.

He tugs me up just long enough for the dress to pool on the floor.

I grin wickedly at him, backing up to the headboard and spreading my thighs to show him I’m not wearing underwear.

“You... you came out without panties?”

I shrug. “Didn’t want pantylines.”

He growls, striking almost like a snake, latching onto the base of my throat and leaving a bruised mark there.

“You’re mine tonight, Liana Rossi.”