Insatiable

[Bianca]

I groaned, rolling onto my back as I arched slightly. "god...he's a walking thirst trap," I muttered, already annoyed at myself for how true that was. Dante wasn't just attractive; he was downright lethal—the kind of man who could ruin a perfectly good night's sleep just by existing in my thoughts. The kind that was tailor-made to destroy any sense of dignity I had left.

My fingers trailed over my shirt, grazing the sensitive skin beneath. No bra, of course. I could barely tolerate that bondage at home. My hand drifted downward, almost against my will, brushing the waistband of my panties, damp enough to confirm that I'd lost this internal battle the moment I opened his photo. Why did he have to look like that? Like some dark angel, shirtless, with a knowing smirk on his face as if he could see right through the screen as if he knew exactly what I was doing at this very moment.

I lifted my phone once again, biting down on my lips as my thumb traced his image, recalling every vivid detail of last night. My pulse quickened just thinking about the feel of his skin, the rough hickeys and bite marks he'd planted over my neck and shoulder. The memory alone had me pressing my thighs together—I felt helpless. I felt...

Traumatised. That was the only word that came to mind, but in the best, most deliciously devastating way possible. Dante hadn't been gentle, not the way Christoph had been. Poor Christoph—my sweet, disloyal Christoph who had once been my version of "great."

I felt a soft ache between my legs, a lingering reminder of just how well this new man knew how to ruin me.

"Ugh, this is all your fault," I whispered, fingers straying lower, heat pooling in my belly as my fingers parted by throbbing wet folds. Damn it, Dante. My eyes closed, letting his face drift back to the front of my mind—those hooded eyes, the rough way he held me like he could barely contain himself. Today at the restaurant, when he'd asked me to lick him clean and even threatened me—

Fuck. He was hard...I wanted to feel his cock inside me. I missed the sensation of being stretched to my limit.

I shifted on the bed, unable to hold back a soft sigh as I imagined his hands on me again. It was impossible to ignore the memory of his grip, firm and possessive, pulling me closer, as though he needed to take me as much as I needed him.

Damn. Christoph never came close to this. With Christoph, I'd been...comfortable. Content. But Dante? Dante had no concept of safety and I'd be lying if I said that wasn't the best sex of my life.

I bit my lip, rubbing down on my clit as I recalled the way his voice controlled me. 'Good girl,' he'd said, as if promising to give me everything I wanted, just so long as I surrendered. As long as I obeyed.

I opened my eyes again, the image of him still taunting me on my phone. The way he'd left me, thoroughly exhausted, sore and freezing, was almost criminal. And yet, a part of me wanted to relive every agonizing second.

"Dante," I murmured, barely above a whisper, "what have you done to me?"

I wanted to blame whatever he'd injected me with last night, but I knew it went beyond that. He'd awakened something wild within me, a craving I could no longer ignore. A craving I needed to satisfy before it drove me insane.

"No. No no no."

I peeled myself off the bed, determined to shake Dante out of my system. After washing up, I threw on a casual top and sweatpants, slipping my phone into my pocket before heading out. I jogged lightly, hoping a bit of fresh air would help clear my head. The sun was already setting so I needed to hurry back before it got dark.

The grocery store was surprisingly quiet as I moved through the aisles, tossing a few things into my basket: a frozen meal, a box of pasta, maybe something for later... I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't see the man coming around the corner until we nearly collided.

"Sorry," he mumbled, reaching out to steady me, but his voice caught mid-sentence.

I looked up, and my breath hitched. Christoph. Christopher-fucking-Schneider, standing in the canned goods aisle with a look that shifted from surprise to smug satisfaction. This man—this man who hadn't bothered to visit me when I was at my worst, who'd made me wish that my end had come quicker.

"Well, well," he said with a smile that made me want to punch him. For so long, I'd wanted to know why he left me, but now, I didn't want to be near him for even a second. Now, he just made my skin crawl. "I heard you were discharged, but I didn't expect you to be... following me around."

I huffed, setting my jaw. "Don't get full of yourself, Christoph," I muttered, trying to push past him, hoping this wouldn't turn into a scene.

But, of course, he stepped in front of me, blocking my path with an all-too-familiar arrogance. "Let's not kid ourselves, Bianca," he said in that unpleasantly smug tone. "It's over between us. Time to move on. As you know, I'm a married man..."

I raised an eyebrow, suppressing the urge to laugh in his face. This was the same man who had practically worshipped the ground I walked on, who used to beg me for scraps of my attention—and money. And now? Here he was, latching on to the next wealthy woman, no doubt.

I gritted my teeth and tried to brush past him again, but his hand shot out, grabbing my arm. "Let go. I'll scream," I said, not wanting to make the first violent move.

"Is everything alright, darling?"

The voice of a female called out. Christoph dropped my arm instantly, and I turned to see her—a pregnant woman, one hand on her stomach, the other pushing a baby stroller. She had dark brown hair packed into a bun and seemed overdressed for a mere visit to the grocery store. She had that polished, perfectly manicured look of someone who'd given the orders at home and a voice to match her snobby look.

I could see her expression switch between surprise and amusement the moment our eyes locked—just like her husband had. Though this was my first time meeting her.

"Oh." Her lips twisted into a scornful smile. "I didn't realize Chris still had fans hanging around. How embarrassing."

I felt my blood boil. The nerve. She didn't know the first thing about me, but she was quick to judge. I was sure her dear husband had told tales of me being obsessed with him. "Is she bothering you, darling?" she asked Christoph in an almost loving tone. I wouldn't be surprised if she beat him at home.

I forced myself to stay calm, swallowing down the urge to snap back. "Oh, don't worry, I don't keep gigolos around anymore. Enjoy the leftovers." I grinned.

I watched both their faces twitch but his wife managed to keep calm, "Oh, says the woman who's as broke as a beggar. Are you sure you can afford to shop here with your donations cut off?" she raised her voice and a few people glanced in our direction. "It must be hard for you, running into someone who's clearly moved up in the world while you... well, let's just say life hasn't been quite as kind, has it?"

She gave a little laugh, brushing back a perfectly styled strand of hair. "Look at you—you used to be the woman everyone admired, and now... here you are. Honestly, I don't know if I feel more pity or embarrassment on your behalf."

My jaw tightened, but she didn't stop there.

"Chris is a man with taste, Bianca, and I'm the kind of woman who can handle him. You talk like you abandoned him but aren't you his leftovers?" She chuckled darkly, eyeing me from head to toe and Christoph's smile made me feel like I was losing the argument. "A little advice, sweetheart—if you're going to hang around in public, maybe put a little more effort in. It's no wonder he's with someone who can actually afford to take care of herself." She glanced at my clothes again, a cruel smile tugging at her lips.

My fists clenched and my eyes stung a little.

"What's this? Where has all that fire in your eyes gone? Don't tell me you wanna cry?"

That was it. Before I knew what I was doing, I turned, my fist flying forward in a blur. The impact was sharp and I regretted it the moment my fist connected with her face.

I'd just punched a pregnant woman!

Christoph's wife stumbled, her perfectly manicured hand flying to her face as she gasped. It didn't take a second for her to scream out and burst into tears with her baby following along in the outburst.

People were already murmuring, some edging closer to help hold me back as someone got out their phone to call the cops.

I had no excuse. I was going to be arrested and all because I couldn't control my temper.