To Bring Him To His Knees

Dante stares down at Vierva, his pale grey-blue eyes searching her face with an intensity that makes her heart race. The air between them feels charged, electric, crackling with a tension that sets his nerves on edge and sends a dark thrill down his spine. He can still taste her on his lips, still feel the softness of her mouth beneath his own, and it leaves him craving more.

I want her, Dante realizes, the admission hitting him like a punch to the gut. I want her in a way that defies all reason and logic, in a manner that I can't explain or control. I want to possess her, to claim her, to make her mine in every way possible.

The thought is both exhilarating and terrifying, a double-edged sword that cuts through Dante's chest and leaves him bleeding with the force of his desire. He's a man who has always prided himself on his control, on his ability to keep his emotions and his hunger locked down tight behind an impenetrable wall of ice. But with Vierva...he feels that control slipping away, the chains of his self-assurance unraveling with each passing moment.

Huffing softly, Dante's grip on Vierva's face tightens, his fingers curling almost possessively into the silky strands of her hair as he leans in closer, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

Tell me, little one, Dante murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrates through Vierva's very bones. Tell me what you're thinking. Tell me what you want.

He needs to know, needs to understand the workings of her mind, the depths of her desire. Because if she wants him too...if she needs him with even a fraction of the hunger that's consuming him...then he knows he won't be able to hold himself back much longer. He'll take her, claim her, make her his in every way possible until there's no doubt who she belongs to.

The question is...does she dare to admit it? Dante wonders, a dark, dangerous glimmer in his eyes as he stares down at Vierva's flushed and panting face. Does she have the courage to give voice to the desire I see burning in her eyes...even as it mirrors my own?

Vierva feels the weight of Dante's intense gaze like a physical touch, his pale grey-blue eyes boring into hers with a penetrating heat that makes her squirm in her seat. She can feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his hands still cupping her face, and it sends a shiver of anticipation and nerves racing down her spine.

He wants me to tell him what I'm thinking, Vierva realizes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips nervously as she tries to formulate a response. He wants me to put into words the chaotic whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling through my mind...and I don't know if I dare.

Because if I say it...if I admit it...then it becomes real. Then I can't pretend anymore that this is just a game, a twisted version of a fairy tale where the princess falls for the beast. No...if I say it, I have to own it. I have to accept the consequences of my own choices.

And that terrifies me.

But...it also excites me, Vierva admits silently, a fresh surge of desire and longing pulsing through her veins as she stares up at Dante. It thrills me to think that I could be the one to bring this powerful, dominant man to his knees...that I could be the one to make him want me with a hunger that defies all reason.