He tilted his head, dark eyes gleaming with amusement and something far more dangerous — patience laced with hunger. “Keep telling yourself that, little bunny. Your p***y is probably clenching just from hearing me call you that.” He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, the touch deceptively gentle. “But I’m a man of my word. No forcing. You’ll come to me when the ache becomes unbearable.”
He picked up the velvet box and opened it slowly. Inside lay a delicate silver chain with a small, elegant pendant — a tiny rabbit with ruby eyes. It looked expensive. Intimate. Possessive.
“A little gift,” he said, lifting the necklace. “To remind you who you belong to now. Turn around.”
I glared at him but didn’t move. “I don’t want your gifts.”
Dante sighed, almost fondly, a
