Page 74 of Ruined By Capture

"What does that mean?" I whisper, searching his face for answers.

"It means you're not just another fuck, Melania. You're the woman I'd burn down empires for. You're mine in every way that matters - heart, body and soul. And I've never wanted to keep anything as much as I want to keep you."

"Don't." The word breaks from my lips like a prayer. "Don't say things like that unless you mean them, Alessio. I'm not strong enough to be your temporary obsession."

"You think I'm not serious? I want to grab you and fuck you on the floor, on the dresser, on the desk." His voice husks lower with each location. "On every fucking kitchen counter, on the dining table, and back on the bed."

My breath hitches as heat pools low in my belly. His eyes never leave mine, watching every reaction his words pull from me.

"From the parking lot to the woods and wherever else you could think of." His hand slides to cup my jaw, tilting my face up. "But one thing is clear. I will never leave unless you tell me to fuck off." His expression hardens. "Is that what you want, Melania? For me to go?"

Everything inside me breaks open—all the walls I've built, all the careful defenses. His crude words should offend me. Instead they're like matches to gasoline. I'm burning from the inside out.

"No," I whisper.

My entire world is melting around me. The realization hits me with stunning clarity: I want him so completely that just hearing these filthy promises from his lips makes me ready to surrender immediately.

I lean in, eliminating the last sliver of space between us. My body presses into his, molding the hard planes of his chest to my softer curves.

"If that's so," I say, surprised by the steadiness in my voice despite the trembling in my limbs, "you need to start doing as you said." I tilt my chin up in challenge.

"Get your fucking clothes off. Now," Alessio growls, with that perilous register that makes my entire body shiver.

I don't hesitate. My fingers fumble with the clothes, yanking them off with none of the grace I’m told I normally rock. His eyes never leave me, savoring every inch of skin revealed like a predator watching its prey.

The moment I'm naked he grabs me, his large hands spanning my waist as he lifts me effortlessly. Three quick strides and I'm on his desk. He sweeps everything off with one arm sending it all clattering to the floor.

The polished wood is glossy against my heated skin. I barely have time to register the sensation before Alessio is between my thighs, pushing them wider apart. His hand wraps around my throat, not squeezing but holding me firmly as he lifts my face to his.

"Now it's time for you to remember who you belong to," he says, his thumb stroking my jawline. "Since you clearly forget and question me."

A smile curves my lips despite the position I'm in—or perhaps because of it. There's power in knowing what effect I have on him, in seeing the ready-to-unleash control in his eyes.

"Something funny, princess?" His voice is demonic soft.

Before I can respond his free hand moves to my breast, fingers finding my nipple and pinching hard. The sudden jolt of sensation tears a gasp from my throat, my back arching into his touch.

"No," I manage to say, but the breathless quality betrays me.

His eyes darken as he watches my reaction, noting how my thighs spread wider for him, how my body responds to his rough handling. The evidence of my arousal is impossible to hide.

"You like that," he observes, not a question but a statement of fact. His fingers press harder, twisting slightly until I whimper. "You like being reminded who owns this body."

Oh God, I do.

Her moan almost drops me. Fuck, she likes this—likes me taking control, claiming her. My cock hardens painfully against my zipper as I watch her nipples tighten and swell huge under my touch. The knowledge that she wants this—wants me to own her completely—sends a surge of primal possession through my veins.

I pinch her nipple again, harder this time, and she moans like a caged animal finally set free. The sound travels straight to my groin, my body responding with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

"Holy fuck," I mutter, my voice barely recognizable. "I'm going to be buried inside you for the rest of my life."

I take a step back, needing to see all of her. She's spread out on my desk like an offering—legs open, lips parted, chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. Her eyes own mine, dilated with desire, challenging me even as she surrenders.

I strip quickly, efficiently, watching her reaction as my clothes hit the floor. When my boxers join the pile, her eyes feast on my cock and she licks her lips. The gesture nearly breaks my control.

"You'll get to taste it only when you're sore to your bones," I tell her roughly. "When you can barely walk from what I'm about to do to you."

I step between her thighs again, reaching into my desk drawer for a condom. I tear the packet open and roll it on, never breaking eye contact.

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