Lila Hart's breath caught as Alexander Knight's black car tore through the city streets. The air between them was electric, a live wire ready to snap. His hand rested on her thigh—possessive, unyielding—his jealousy still burning after catching her with Ethan Caldwell.
Ethan's kind eyes lingered in her mind. His offer of escape replayed like a forbidden song. But Alexander's presence drowned everything else out. His scent—sandalwood and smoke. His heat. That dangerous glint in his blue eyes that had haunted her since the night she dragged him from the wreck two years ago.
"You thought you could run to him?" His voice was low, rough, thick with rage and something darker—something that made her pulse stutter. He yanked her closer, fingers digging into her skin until pain and heat tangled. "You're mine, Lila. No one else touches you."
"I'm not yours!" She shoved at his chest, breath shaking, hands trembling with fury and shame. Yet her body betrayed her, the memory of his touch still alive under her skin. The teasing in his office. The way he'd pinned her to that desk. It all came rushing back, flooding her with confusion and want.
The car screeched to a stop at his penthouse. He didn't wait. Didn't speak. Just dragged her out and through the doors. The slam behind them sounded like a lock snapping shut.
Before she could catch her breath, he had her against the wall. His body caged hers, his lips crashing onto hers in a kiss that burned. Desperation. Possession. Hunger. His tongue claimed her mouth like a man starving.
Her fists clenched in his shirt. She wanted to push him away. To stop this madness. But her body had other plans. Her resolve melted under the weight of his obsession.
"You drive me insane," he growled against her lips. His hands tore at her blouse, buttons scattering across marble like falling beads. Her bra slipped away next, and she gasped under the heat of his stare.
Her nipples tightened under his gaze, and when his mouth found them, sucking and biting, the sound that escaped her lips made her hate herself.
"Stop," she gasped, voice cracking. But her hips betrayed her, arching into him. His hand slid down, yanking her skirt up, fingers brushing against the lace between her thighs.
He groaned—a raw, primal sound. His voice turned rough with triumph. "You want this. You want me."
"No," she whispered, the lie trembling on her tongue. But her thighs parted when he ripped the lace away, his fingers stroking her with maddening precision.
Pleasure hit like lightning. Her body bowed, a cry tearing free as her knees gave out. He caught her easily, lifting her, carrying her toward the bedroom.
The world blurred. The silk sheets hit her back.
Alexander stripped, every motion deliberate. His body was all power—hard lines, sharp edges, heat. She couldn't look away.
He climbed over her, his weight pressing her into the bed, his gaze burning with a mix of worship and possession.
"I've dreamed of this since that night," he murmured, his voice rough, almost reverent. "You saved me, Lila. Now I'm claiming you."
His mouth found her breast again, tongue and teeth teasing until she was shaking, breathless, lost. His fingers circled lower, slow, merciless, until she was gasping his name.
"Please," she whimpered. The word slipped out before she could stop it.
He smirked, positioning himself between her thighs. The head of his arousal pressed against her, teasing, waiting.
"Say you're mine," he demanded, his breath hot against her ear.
She shook her head, defiant even as her body screamed otherwise.
Then he thrust into her—deep, hard—pulling a cry from her lips. Pain and pleasure tangled, the sound of their breathing filling the room.
Every movement was a declaration. Every thrust, a claim. His hands gripped her hips, holding her down, forcing her to feel every inch of him.
"Lila," he groaned, his rhythm quickening. Sweat slicked their bodies, heat wrapping them both until there was nothing else.
Her nails raked down his back, drawing blood. He hissed, eyes dark with approval. The world fell away—only the friction, the pulse, the crash of something she couldn't stop.
Her climax hit hard, shattering her. He followed, his release a guttural sound against her neck, his body shuddering over hers.
For a long moment, they lay tangled. Breathless. Silent.
Then his hand lifted, brushing her cheek. His thumb traced her swollen lips. His gaze softened, but the possessiveness never left.
"Now you'll never leave me," he whispered.
Her pulse spiked. The words weren't a promise. They were a threat.
The intercom buzzed, sharp and sudden.
"Mr. Knight, it's Ethan Caldwell," the voice crackled. "I know Lila's with you. Let her go, or I'll expose you."
Lila's blood turned to ice. Ethan was here.
And this time, he wasn't just offering escape—he was demanding it.