I nodded, clutching my arms around myself. "Yeah. I had a... rough day."

Which was the understatement of the year.

I was trying not to think about Jake, but my mind flashed to his stupid smug face and the way he didn't even try to hide what he'd done. I clenched my jaw, suddenly feeling both angry and embarrassed again. The officer seemed to notice the shift in my expression, and something flickered across his face. He looked serious-but not cold. More like he was reading me. Studying me.

He didn't speak right away, and the silence stretched a little too long. I felt awkward, like I should say something else, but I couldn't stop staring at him.

And he was staring right back.

Up close, his eyes weren't just hazel. They were warm and golden around the edges, and there was a quiet intensity in them that made me feel like he could see more than I wanted him to.

"You live around here?" he finally asked, his voice quieter now, less like a cop and more like a man making conversation.

I nodded slowly. "A few miles up. On Maple Drive."

He nodded once, his eyes flicking over my car like he was checking every detail. "License and registration?" he asked, voice still calm but firm.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Of course," I said quickly, like I hadn't forgotten what to do during a traffic stop. My brain was so scrambled I could barely speak properly. I turned toward the driver's side door, my hands fumbling like they didn't belong to me. My fingers slipped on the handle once before I finally managed to pull it open.

"It's inside. I'll just-uh, get it," I mumbled, already leaning in halfway before I finished the sentence.

I bent over into the car, reaching across the seat for my purse, which had somehow slid onto the passenger side floor. My wallet was inside, along with my license, and I needed to find it fast. But as I stretched farther in, I became very aware of something else.

My butt was in the air.

And he was still behind me.

I could feel his eyes. Like actual heat on my skin. My heart thumped harder. My jeans were tight-not on purpose, they were just my favorite pair-and the way I was bent over probably didn't help. I squirmed a little without meaning to, trying to shift my weight so I could dig deeper into my bag. But to anyone watching... yeah. It probably looked like I was wiggling my butt.

Crap.

That's when I heard it-a low, sharp intake of breath behind me.

My whole body went still.

Then, in a voice so deep and rough it made my toes curl, he said, "Don't move."

It wasn't loud. It wasn't a command. It was something else-low, dangerous, and insanely sexy. Like the kind of voice that made you freeze not because you were scared, but because your body instantly listened.

My breath caught in my throat.

I stayed exactly where I was, half-bent into the car, heart pounding like a drum. Goosebumps prickled across my arms even though the night air was warm. I couldn't see his face, but I didn't have to. I could feel the tension in the air shift. It wrapped around me like something thick and electric.

He was quiet for a long moment. So long that I started to wonder if maybe I had imagined it. Maybe he hadn't said anything at all. Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me because of how crazy this situation was.

But then he moved.

I felt him behind me, his strong body pressing against mine. My heart raced as I realized how vulnerable I was, bent over my car like this. But when I felt his hardness press against my ass, a jolt of desire shot through me. This was wrong, so wrong, but God did I want him.

He palmed my ass through my jeans, his big hands gripping the soft flesh. I couldn't help but arch into his touch, craving more. "You disobeyed the law, darling," he growled, his voice rough with need. "And now you deserve to be punished."

I gasped, my eyes widening at his bold words. He wanted to punish me? Here, like this? The thought sent a thrill of fear and excitement through me. I knew I should protest, tell him to stop. But I couldn't find my voice. All I could do was whimper as he rubbed himself against me, his hard bulge grinding against my ass.

His fingers dug into my hips as he held me still. I gasped, my eyes widening in shock. I couldn't believe this was happening. The officer was groping me, his hands roaming over my ass through my jeans. I should have been disgusted, horrified, but instead I found myself arching into his touch, craving more.

"Please," I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for. More? Less? For him to stop or to never stop?

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against my ear. "Begging already? We're just getting started, sweetheart."

His hand slid lower, cupping my most intimate area. I let out a soft moan, my hips bucking involuntarily. He was hard as steel against my backside, his desire for me obvious.

"You're a naughty little thing, aren't you?" he growled, pressing his fingers harder against my clothed sex. "Teasing the officer like this. I bet you've been thinking about getting pulled over just so you could have a good time."

I shook my head frantically, even as my body betrayed me, pressing back against him. "No, I swear, I didn't-"

"Shhh," he silenced me, his other hand sliding up my side to cup my breast through my shirt. "I'm going to enjoy teaching you a lesson, you bad girl."

His fingers found my nipple, pinching and twisting it until I cried out. Pleasure mixed with pain shot through me, making my head spin. I'd never been touched like this before, so roughly, so dominatingly. It was overwhelming and exhilarating all at once.

"I'm going to make you come right here, over your car," he promised darkly. "I'm going to make you scream so loud the whole neighborhood knows what a dirty little slut you are."

His words sent a thrill of shameful arousal through me. I was completely at his mercy, bent over the hood of my car with an officer's hands all over my body. I should have been appalled, but instead I found myself dripping wet, desperate for more of his touch.

"Please," I whimpered again, not even caring how pathetic I sounded. "Please make me come."

He pulled away, leaving me empty and wanting. "Bad girls don't get what they want," he said coldly, his tone sharp as a whip.

I felt a pang of disappointment, but before I could react, he ordered, "Get on your knees."

I obeyed instantly, dropping to the gravel without hesitation. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and pleading. He stood before me, his crotch at my eye level. I could see the huge bulge straining against his uniform pants. My mouth watered at the sight, my pussy clenching with anticipation.

My hands shook as I reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle. He watched me with dark, hooded eyes, his expression stern. "I told you bad girls don't get what they want," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Go on then," he growled, his hand coming to rest on the back of my head. "Suck my cock like the dirty little slut you are."

Without hesitation, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his cloth-covered erection. He was so big, so hard. I couldn't wait to taste him. I mouthed at him through his pants, my tongue dragging over the thick length of him. He groaned above me, his fingers tangling in my hair.

"Fuck," he muttered, his hips bucking slightly. "You like that, don't you? You like having an officer's cock in your face."

I moaned in response, my hands trembling as I undid his belt and fly. I needed to feel him, all of him. I needed to taste his flesh on my tongue.

With a final flick of my fingers, his pants fell open, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. I gasped at the sight. It was huge, bigger than any I'd seen before, and rock hard. I could see the thick veins pulsing beneath the skin.

Without hesitation, I wrapped my lips around his shaft, earning a deep, guttural growl from him. He tasted salty and musky, his pre-cum already leaking onto my tongue.

"Fuck yes," he grunted, fisting his hand in my hair and guiding my head up and down his length. "Take it all, slut. Choke on my cock like a good girl."

I moaned around him, the vibrations making him shudder. I relaxed my throat, letting him slide deeper into my mouth. I could feel him hitting the back of my throat with every thrust, making my eyes water.

"Such a good little cocksucker," he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. 

The filthy words only turned me on more. I bobbed my head faster, slurping and sucking noisily as I took him to the hilt. I wanted him to use me, to fill me with his seed. I wanted to swallow every last drop.

I moaned around his thick shaft, savoring the salty taste of his skin and the musky scent of his arousal. His cock stretched my lips wide, filling my mouth completely as he thrust in and out. I could feel every vein and ridge as he slid across my tongue, the hard flesh pulsing with need.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his grip on my hair tightening. "I'm going to fuck your face until you can't breathe."

I moaned in response, the sound muffled by his cock. I wanted him to use me, to dominate me completely. I wanted him to take what he wanted from my willing body.

He started to pump faster, his hips snapping as he fucked my face with abandon. I could feel drool running down my chin as he pounded into my mouth, my lips stretched obscenely around his girth. My eyes watered as he hit the back of my throat again and again, but I didn't pull away. I wanted to please him, to make him come undone.

"Take it all," he growled, his voice ragged with pleasure. "I'm going to come so hard down your slutty throat. You better swallow every drop like a good girl."

I moaned again, the vibrations making his cock throb against my tongue. I could feel him swelling even bigger in my mouth, his balls drawing up tight. He was close.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep in my throat and came with a shout. His hot seed shot down my throat, filling my mouth with his tangy essence. I swallowed convulsively, trying to take it all, but some leaked out around his shaft, running down my chin.

He stayed lodged in my mouth as he emptied himself, his cock twitching with every spurt. Finally, he pulled out with a wet pop, his softening member slipping from my bruised lips. I looked up at him with glassy eyes, my mouth red and puffy from the abuse.

"That's a good slut," he praised, his hand cupping my cheek tenderly. He wiped away the tears and cum that had mixed on my face with his thumb. I smiled up at him, my heart fluttering at the gentle touch.

"Stand up," he ordered, his voice gruff. I obeyed immediately, my legs shaky from being on my knees for so long.

He spun me around and bent me over the hood of my car, the metal cold against my stomach. I felt his hands on my hips as he roughly pulled down my jeans and panties, exposing my bare ass and pussy to the cool night air.

"Spread your legs," he commanded, kicking my feet apart with his own. "I'm going to punish this naughty pussy."

I whimpered, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through me. I knew I should be scared, that I was at the mercy of this stranger, but I couldn't help the wetness gathering between my thighs.

"Please," I begged, not even sure what I was begging for. More punishment? More pleasure? I just knew I needed something from him.

"Shut up," he growled, landing a hard smack on my ass. I yelped, the sting making me clench. "You don't get to make demands."

He rubbed the spot he'd hit, soothing the sting with his palm. Then I felt his fingers brushing against my pussy, feeling how wet I was. I moaned, pushing back against his hand.

"You're such a dirty girl," he scolded, circling my clit with his fingers. "Getting this wet from being punished. I should fuck you right here on this car."

I gasped at the thought, my pussy clenching. As much as I wanted him to fill me, I knew I couldn't. It would be too wrong, too dangerous.

But God did I want him to. I wanted him to claim me, to take what he wanted from my willing body.

I just had to hope he would be merciful.

"Beg me for it," he demanded, rubbing my wet slit. "Beg me to fuck you right here on the side of the road."

I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand. "Please," I whimpered, the word barely a whisper. "Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me."

He chuckled darkly. "Not good enough," he said, his fingers dipping inside me, teasing me with shallow thrusts. "Beg me like you mean it. Tell me how badly you want my cock splitting you open, making you scream."

I was panting now, my body burning with need. "Please," I begged louder, arching my back to push my ass against him. "Please fuck me. I'm so empty, I need you to fill me up. I need your big, hard cock stretching me, making me yours."

"Mmm, that's more like it," he praised, removing his fingers from my pussy. I whined at the loss, but then I felt the head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

"Yes," I hissed as he pushed forward, his thick length spreading me open. "Fuck yes, fill me up. Make me your slut."

He grabbed my hips hard enough to bruise as he slammed into me, bottoming out in one brutal thrust. I screamed at the sudden intrusion, my pussy clenching around him.

"Take it," he growled, setting a punishing pace as he fucked me hard and fast. "Take my cock like a good little fucktoy."

I could only moan and whimper as he used me, my tits bouncing with every harsh thrust. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty parking lot, mixing with my desperate cries.

"So tight," he grunted, pounding into me even harder. "Your pussy was made for my cock."

"Yes!" I cried out, my orgasm building fast. "Use me, fuck me, do whatever you want with me."

He leaned over me, biting at my neck as he fucked me deeper. "Come for me," he commanded. "Come on my cock like a good little slut."

I couldn't hold back any longer and I came hard. Harder than I had ever come. He followed seconds later, filling me with his hot seed as he groaned his release.

We stayed locked together as we both caught our breath, his softening cock still buried inside me. Then he pulled out, his cum leaking down my thighs.

"I think you've learned your lesson," he said, tucking himself away and zipping up his pants. "Now get out of here before I change my mind and fuck you again."

I quickly pulled up my panties and jeans, not bothering to clean up the mess between my legs. I just wanted to get away from him before he decided to give me another round of punishment.

With a final dirty look, I jumped in my car and sped off, leaving him standing alone on the side of the road. My pussy ached and my thighs were sticky with our combined juices, but I couldn't help the satisfied smile on my face.

I'd never been fucked like that before, so hard and so thoroughly. And I knew I'd be dreaming about it for weeks to come.

I let out a heavy sigh and rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might stay that way. Dante's voice was still echoing in my head like an annoying alarm I couldn't shut off. "You're not going to the club tonight, end of discussion." His words had been firm, his tone bossy, and the worst part? I had actually listened.

I didn't argue, didn't roll my eyes in front of him, didn't even mutter something under my breath like I usually would. I just nodded like some obedient little schoolgirl. Ugh. The memory made my skin crawl.

But I didn't have much of a choice. Ever since my dad married Dante's older sister, everything changed. My dad and his new wife had flown off for their honeymoon-or "business trip" as they called it, like I didn't know what that meant-and I got stuck here. With him.

Dante Romano.

The guy who was now apparently in charge of me until they got back. Just great.

He was only a few years older than me, but he acted like he was thirty and I was twelve. Always serious, always frowning, always giving out rules like I was living in some military camp. No going out late. No bringing friends over. No loud music. And definitely, absolutely, no clubs.

And okay, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he was just a regular guy. But no. Of course not. That would've been too easy.

He had to be hot. Like, stupid hot. The kind of hot that made you stare without even realizing it until he smirked and caught you. Tall, strong arms, that perfectly messy dark hair that looked like he'd just run his hands through it after a shower, and a jawline so sharp it could cut glass. And don't even get me started on his voice-deep, smooth, and bossy in a way that made my stomach twist in the worst way.

It pissed me off.

Because even though he was controlling and full of himself, even though he acted like I was some reckless teenager who needed babysitting... I still found him attractive.

And that made me angry with myself more than anything.

He had gone out tonight. Just strolled out the door like it was nothing, all dressed in black jeans, a snug shirt that clung a little too well to his chest, and a leather jacket that made him look like trouble on legs. His last words to me had been, "Don't even think about stepping foot outside, princess."

Princess. That word made my hands curl into fists. He always said it like it was some kind of insult, like I was just a spoiled brat. Maybe I was, a little. But still, he didn't have to act like he knew me.

The moment the door slammed shut behind him, I just stood there in the hallway, staring at it, chewing my bottom lip, debating. Should I go? Should I sneak out, just to prove I wasn't afraid of him?

My favorite black dress was already laid out on the bed. My makeup bag was open on the dresser. I had even sprayed perfume before I realized I wasn't going anywhere.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked tired, and my hair was pulled back in a lazy ponytail. I had changed into pajamas-soft pink shorts and a tank top-after pacing the room like a caged animal for ten full minutes.

I wanted to go out so badly. The music, the dancing, the laughter. I could practically hear it in my head.

But then I thought of my dad. The way he hugged me before he left. The worry in his eyes when he said, "Please, just behave, okay? Don't make me regret this."

And just like that, the fight left me.

I had promised him I'd stay out of trouble. And even though I hated how Dante treated me like a kid, I didn't want to break my dad's trust. If Dante found out I went out after he told me not to, he'd definitely report me. He'd probably do it just to prove a point.

So now here I was. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, scrolling through my phone, pretending not to care. But I did care. I cared a lot. About everything. About being stuck here. About Dante's rules. About how unfair it all felt. And, most of all, about how messed up it was that I kept thinking about him.

I tossed my phone aside with more force than I meant to. It bounced off the edge of the bed and landed on the carpet with a soft thud. I didn't even bother picking it up. I was too annoyed, too restless, and honestly, too bored to care. I flopped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling like it had all the answers to this annoying situation I was stuck in.

The silence was too loud.

The quiet wasn't peaceful. It was the kind that made you feel uncomfortable. Like something was missing. The only sound in the room was the slow, steady ticking of the wall clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. Every tick reminded me that time was crawling by. And every now and then, I'd hear a car pass on the street outside, its tires humming against the pavement before fading away into nothingness.

But there was no music. No laughter. No people. No excitement. Nothing that made me feel alive.

Just me.

Sitting in a big, silent house with way too many rules and a hot, bossy step-uncle who seemed to enjoy making my life difficult.

I sighed again-loud and dramatic this time-and kicked my legs on the bed like a frustrated child. I tugged at the hem of my tank top, my fingers twisting the soft fabric as my mind drifted to Dante.

Where was he right now?

Was he out drinking with friends? Hanging out at some bar where girls stared at him like he was a god? Or worse... was he at a club? The same kind of club he told me I wasn't allowed to go to?

That would be so typical of him. Dante liked rules. But mostly, he liked when I followed them while he did whatever the hell he wanted.

I sat up slowly, crossing my legs under me and glancing toward the window. The street outside was dark. The porch light was still on, casting a yellow glow across the empty driveway. His car was gone. He was definitely out. Probably having fun. Laughing. Maybe even flirting.

Meanwhile, I was stuck here. In pajamas. In his house. Feeling like a grounded teenager, even though I hadn't done a single thing wrong.

I let out another sigh, this one heavier than the last.

I couldn't sit here any longer. I needed to move. Do something. Anything.

Without even thinking it through, I stood up. My socks slid a little on the hardwood floor as I walked to my bedroom door and peeked out into the hallway. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that made your heart beat a little faster, like you were sneaking around even if you weren't doing anything wrong yet.

My gaze drifted down the hall.

Dante's room.