Page 17 of My Ruthless Obsession

Paulie nods, and I turn to head upstairs.

I call out Tony’s name before I reach the top, letting him know to stand down. His brow is wrinkled as he watches me approach him. “I thought you were in there.” He hikes his thumb over his shoulder.

I scoff. “What kind of crime boss hides like a coward?”

He pinches his lips together and straightens his stance.

“Help the others downstairs. I’ve got this.” I don’t wait for Tony to leave before entering the ten-digit code into the keypad and disengaging the locking mechanism of the steel door.

As soon as the room is open, Lyla flings herself at me, wrapping her legs around my waist and almost choking me with her embrace. Her tears dampen my bare skin, stinging slightly when they seep into my shallow cuts and scrapes.

“It’s okay, Princess. Don’t be scared. You’re safe now.” I stroke her hair while shushing her sobs.

She leans back and studies me with red, puffy eyes. “I wasn’t worried about myself. I was worried about you.” She twists to the side and points to the row of monitors displaying the security feeds from the cameras all over the house. “I saw everything. I was sure they were going to kill you.” She circles my neck with her arms again and squeezes tight, as if I might disappear.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Lyla. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She looks at me. “Promise me you won’t. You’re all I have left, Marco. I’ll be all alone if?—”

“I promise. You’ll always have me, Princess. I love you.” Both our eyes go wide at my confession as we stare at each other with a pregnant pause. I’ve never told anyone that I love them, not even my family, and the words feel foreign on my tongue. They also feel right, and I don’t regret saying them. In fact, I want to say them again, even if she doesn’t say them back. “I love you, Lyla.”

Fresh tears spill down her face when she smiles. “I love you too.”

EPILOGUE

LYLA

Three weeks later

Iwake to the sense of something cool and metallic gliding onto my finger. Disoriented in unfamiliar surroundings, I blink away the remnants of sleep before my gaze falls to the engagement ring adorning my left hand. The dazzling stones catch the morning sunlight that streams into the penthouse bedroom.

A mixture of confusion and curiosity washes over me as I turn my head, finding Marco lying beside me. His deep brown eyes regard me with anticipation, his normally stern features softened in the golden glow.

“Awfully bold to assume I’d marry you without asking,” I tease, the playful lilt of my groggy voice filling the room.

The corners of his mouth twitch upward when he taps my nose. “It’s cute you think you get a choice.”

My eyebrow arches with amusement, and the spark of challenge ignites inside me. “Is that so? What if I sayno?”

He rolls on top of me, nudging my legs apart with his thighs and wedging himself between them. The tension surrounding us thickens, as does his cock while it’s nestled against my pussy. Lifting my newly embellished hand to his lips, Marco presses a kiss to my knuckles, just above the diamond and platinum ring.

Then he locks his eyes on mine, his gaze so intense I wouldn’t dare to look away. “Never doubt that I’ll do everything in my power to make you mine, Lyla. A wedding is a mere formality. You’ve belonged to me since the moment we met.” The air crackles with electricity as his eyes darken with need. “Come here,” he commands, his voice low and rough.

I shiver at the possessiveness in his tone, and without hesitation, I lean into his touch when he pulls me in for a kiss. His lips are demanding yet tender as he explores my mouth and leaves me breathless. The banter from moments before is all but forgotten as our connection shifts into something more carnal, more erotic. I surrender to the force of his desire, allowing it to wash over me like a tidal wave that takes me under.

“I need to get inside you,” Marco growls against my lips, his hands roaming my body with unrestrained hunger. He traces the curve of my hip before skating his hand lower, teasing the sensitive skin above my pussy.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice thick with lust. “Don’t make me wait.”

My eyelids flutter closed when he massages my clit with his thumb, then drags the tip of his finger up and down my slit. My arousal builds, coating his digits before he slips two of them into my center. I arch into his touch and roll my hips with each pump of his hand.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Your cunt keeps sucking my fingers back in.”

My thighs tremble while he shifts down the bed, hovering over my glistening pussy and relishing my scent. He closes his eyes for a moment before devouring me with his hot, wet mouth. Exhilaration consumes me, and I gasp out a loud moan, gripping the sheets until my knuckles turn white.

This man is relentless, his tongue and lips working in tandem to drive me insane with pleasure. He knows exactly where to touch me, how much pressure to apply, and when to change things up just enough to keep me on edge. It’s divine torture, and I relish every second of it.

“Please, let me come,” I beg, my voice strained as my climax builds. The deep timbre of his chuckle vibrates against my delicate flesh. Then he doubles his efforts, swirling his tongue around my clit while thrusting a third finger inside me.

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