Page 4 of My Ruthless Obsession

I watch Marco retrieve a long, silky white dress, and my body tenses with defiance. The draping neckline and figure-hugging silhouette would no doubt accentuate all my curves, but I refuse to be persuaded by designer garments.

“I amnotwearing that,” I snap, glaring at him and pushing away the dress. “It’s dinner, not a wedding.”

His smug expression fuels my anger. “Only virgins wear white in weddings,” he taunts. “And I doubt you’re one of those.”

In a moment of recklessness, I raise a hand and slap him across the face. Shocked by my own actions, I stumble back and wait for swift retaliation. But to my surprise, Marco laughs, rubbing his fingers along his cheek.

Then he leans toward me. There’s nowhere for me to go. “I like it when you fight me, Princess. It only makes my dick harder.” His words send a jolt of arousal through me, but I’m quick to dismiss it. This is wrong on so many levels, and I will not give in. “Youwillwear the dress tonight.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” I retort, and his grip on my arm tightens.

“Wear the dress, or you’ll dine naked.” Then he storms out of the room, leaving me seething with anger.

Beneath the fury and false bravado is a simmering lust, a strong attraction I’ve felt since the first time I saw him. I knew then he was at least a decade older, and I was nothing like the women he’s used to being with. Yet somehow, I’ve ended up here, with him now. And I wonder how long before I give in to temptation.

3

MARCO

It’s been thirty fucking minutes since I stormed out of Lyla’s room. Now, I’m sitting alone at my massive dining table, staring at the polished mahogany surface and savoring a glass of red wine. The fire crackles in the background while covered plates of food sit untouched in front of me.

Fuck this formal bullshit. I want her closer.

I always sit at the head of the table, so I move her plate to my right.

Rage threatens to boil over while she makes me wait like some goddamn commoner.No onemakes me wait, not even her. People do as they’re told or else they face my wrath. Yet here I am, waiting for the same little brat who had the nerve to slap me.

Fuck, did it turn me on, though.That fiery rebellion in her eyes made me want to fuck her on the floor like an animal. She also pissed me off because no one challenges me and gets away with it.

“Tony!” I bark, calling one of my guards into the room. “Fetch our guest and haul her ass down here.” I meet his gaze with a deadly stare. “But don’t you fucking hurt her, or I’ll kill you.”

He nods once and stalks out of the room.

It takes him a few minutes to bring her down, dragging her by the arm as she struggles against him. The more she fights this, the more I want to fuck her into submission.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” Her eyes land on mine and her gaze narrows. “I’m not eating with that man,” she sneers as soon as she sees me.

I dismiss Tony and he leaves without hesitation. Approaching Lyla with an angry glare, I expect her to cower like everyone else does under my power and presence. Instead, she stands tall and returns my scowl with equal intensity.

“I’m not hungry,” she lies, but I saw the sad excuse of a meal she was making in her apartment. I know it’s been a while since she’s eaten properly. That’s why I had my chef prepare a feast fit for royalty. And now it’s cold because she’d rather be disobedient.

“I didn’t ask if you were hungry. I told you to join me for dinner and wear the damn dress,” I snarl, watching as she crosses her arms and juts out her hip with a lift of her chin.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Then you know what happens next.” My fierce expression is a scathing warning, and she pales at the sight of it.

“You… you can’t be serious.” Her gaze darts around the room as if someone will come to her rescue. My men know not to disturb us, and no one can save her from me. She’s pushed me to this point, and now she must face the consequences.

I snatch her arms, dragging her body to mine while she tries to escape my grasp, but I’m too fucking strong for her. Clawing at the thin fabric of her worn shirt, I rip it off and throw it to the ground. I don’t waste time admiring her full, heavy tits before unhooking her flimsy bra with ease, tossing it aside with a smirk as Lyla gasps in horror and tries to cover herself.

“Don’t pretend you’re shy now, Princess. I warned you of the repercussions if you didn’t wear the dress.”

She shudders when I trail my fingertip along her delicate collarbone before drawing her closer to inhale the sweet scent of her hair. It’s citrusy like tangerines. I’ll make sure to keep that shampoo stocked for her.

I spin her in my arms and press my chest to her back, reaching for the front of her jeans and unbuttoning them without resistance. She’s tense in my tight embrace, but she doesn’t fight back. At least not for the moment, and I almost wish she did.

There’s rebellion in her eyes again as I strip off her clothes. Then I see the exact moment when her resolve kicks in before she straightens her spine and drops her arms.

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