Page 114 of Savage Don's Captive

Before I can catch my breath, he’s unfastening his pants, freeing his cock, positioning himself at my entrance, the tip of him hot and hard against my already pulsating pussy.

“I need youtesoro,“ he growls, his voice thick, desperate. “Every fucking piece of you.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper, breathless. And that’s all it takes—his restraint snaps. A feral sound rumbles from his chest as his hands grip me like I’m the only thing keeping him sane. Heat floods my veins, my body already his before he even takes me. Wetness from my previous release pools between my thighs, anticipation coiling tighter. My puffy, quivering walls clench, desperate for more.

“Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough, possessive.

“I’m yours, Dominic,” I moan. And then he’s on me—devouring. Claiming. Owning.

Dominic teases my slick entrance, dragging the thick length of his cock along my opening before driving all nine inches into me in one hard, deliberate thrust. We both groan at the perfect friction as my walls undulate, still reeling from my orgasmic high. His rhythm is relentless, each stroke hitting that spot deep inside, making stars dance behind my eyelids, sending chills cascading up and down my spine.

“This is forever, Alessa,” he pants against my mouth. “You’re mine. Forever.”

“Forever,”I agree, my nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coils tight inside me. Another orgasm builds, as his hand slips between us, his thumb finding my clit—I’m done for. I come hard, my body shaking, his name a desperate cry on my lips, the pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

He holds back, his cock squelching in and out as he fights for control, head thrown back as he drags it out as long as he can. But then it hits—his restraint shatters, his hips stuttering as his cock jerks in waves, spilling deep inside me. My name slips from his lips in a rough, guttural growl.

For a moment, we stay like this, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in. His hand rests on my stomach—a protective, possessive touch that makes my heart fuckingexplode.

Then, reality creeps back in. My dress is still bunched up around my waist, his pants are barely hanging onto his hips, and the faint sound of clinking glasses and laughter outside reminds me we’re not alone.

I exhale a breathless laugh, reaching down to smooth my dress. “Well,” I murmur, “I can officially checkdefile an upscale restroomoff my list.”

Dominic smirks as he tucks himself back into his pants, zipping up like he wasn’t just wrecking me against a marble sink.

“I wouldn’t call it defiling,” he says, voice still rough from what we just did. “More like... making it memorable.”

I snort, adjusting my straps. “Yeah, I’m sure the cleaning staff will agree.”

He straightens his jacket, then reaches out, fingers brushing against my jaw. “Alessa.” His tone shifts, the teasing gone, replaced by something deeper, heavier.

I look up, and my breath catches. He’s still slightly disheveled, but his expression is all intensity—serious, unwavering. He pulls away slightly, reaching into his pocket retrieving a small velvet box.

My heartstops.

“What are you—”

“Alessa,” he says after a minute, his voice steadier now but still thick with emotion. “Something I should have already done.”And then, without warning, he drops to one knee, pulling away just enough to open the box between us.

Inside rests a massive princess-cut diamond, its sharp lines catching the light—brilliant, untamed, just like him.

“Dominic,” my hands shaking as I bring them to my mouth.

“The thought of our kid coming into this world without my name—of you not being mine in every way—” Dom’s jaw flexes, his grip tightening around my waist like he’s afraid to let go. “Ain’t gonna fucking happen.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“I want the world to know who you belong to,” he continues, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I want our enemies to know what happens if they even think about touching what’s mine. I want our child to be born a Gianelli.”

He takes the ring from the box, holding it between us. “Alessandra Colette Russo, be my wife. Be the mother of my children. Be the queen to my kingdom.”

Tears slide down my cheeks as I nod, unable to form words.

“Tell me baby,” he urges, his voice husky.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, staring at the ring. It’s massive. The kind of ring that screams my man doesn’t take orders…he gives them.

“Is that a yes?” His voice is tight, controlled, but I can hear the undertone of uncertainty. Like he actually thinks I might say no. This powerful, dangerous man who’s killed for me, who’s giving me a home, a family, protection—somehow, he’s the one who looks vulnerable right now.

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