When his lips met mine, time ceased to exist.The kiss was everything—a promise, a plea, a branding of love and desperation.Passion, raw and consuming, melded us together, two broken pieces finding wholeness in each other.
His eyes burned into me as he pulled away—fierce, unwavering, the same fire I felt blazing in my chest.
“I want to marry you,” Amir confessed, his voice a fervent whisper, hoarse with need and truth.“But it must be in secret.Know this, Elizabeth—I love you.I will always be devoted to you.Always.”
Shock tore through the grief, scattering the darkness with a wild, untamed hope.Lord Winston’s cold, leering face flitted through my mind—a prison I had once been chained to.And this—this was its antithesis.Not duty, not arrangement—this was love, sacred and defiant.
My answer came from the deepest part of me, pure and unshakable.
“Yes.Yes.Yes.I’ll marry you,” I vowed, my heart surging, my voice unshaken.“My heart belongs to you.You’re not just Roman’s father, Amir.You’re my everything.”
His eyes locked onto mine in the room’s dimness, igniting a fire that devoured me from the inside out.There was no fear, no hesitation—only need.Need for him.For us.For this.
His hands were rough, hungry, as they found the frayed edges of my doeskin dress.The fabric barely held together, and he tore it open with a growl, letting it slip to the floor, exposing me inch by inch to the heat of his gaze.His eyes devoured me, dark and molten, and then his mouth was on me—every kiss a scorch mark, his tongue drawing shivers as it traced the sensitive hollow of my throat, the peaks of my breasts, the dip of my stomach.
I gasped, arching into him, my skin alive, tingling, desperate.Every nerve on fire with anticipation.His lips latched onto a nipple, sucking hard, then softer, then biting just enough to make me cry out—a cry he swallowed with a fierce, claiming kiss.
Exhaustion was gone—obliterated.There was only this hunger, and I was drowning in it, gladly.He pushed me back against the wall, his thigh forcing mine apart, and I moaned as his fingers slid down, unerringly finding the slick heat between my legs.
“Gods, Elizabeth, you’re soaking,” he groaned against my neck, his fingers teasing my entrance, spreading me, tormenting me.“I need to be inside you—now.”
“Then take me,” I panted, writhing, aching, every part of me begging.“No more waiting.Take me.Hard.”
His growl was feral as he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the wall.I wrapped my legs around him, needy, greedy, and with a rough thrust, he buried himself inside me—deep, thick, filling me to the hilt.
I cried out, my nails digging into his back, his name a breathless chant on my lips as he pounded into me, every stroke a brutal, beautiful claim.
“Mine,” he snarled, driving deeper, faster, until the room dissolved, and all that remained was this—his cock inside me, our bodies slamming together, sweat and moans, and pure, wild ecstasy.
“Yours, always yours,” I gasped, clutching him closer, begging, unraveling.
We collapsed onto the bed, panting, flushed, limbs tangled.I straddled him, taking control, his cock still hard and ready beneath me.His eyes blazed up at me, dark and savage, and I guided him back inside, slowly, this time—teasing us both with every inch I took.
“Elizabeth, fuck—” he groaned, thrusting up, but I pressed my hands to his chest, holding him down.
I rode him slowly at first, savoring the feel of him beneath me—the way his hands guided my hips, his dark eyes locked on mine with that familiar mix of desire and reverence.Our rhythm was built with each movement, every stroke drawing a soft gasp from my lips, and every shift deepened our bond.
His chest rose and fell, muscles taut and slick with sweat, and beneath my palms, I could feel the power he held—restrained but simmering.
“Elizabeth…” Amir’s voice was a low groan, barely controlled.His grip tightened, grounding me in the moment.“You feel perfect.”
I leaned forward, brushing my lips along his jaw, letting the swell of my breasts press to his chest.His hands roamed my back, tracing the curve of my spine, anchoring me as I moved—slow, deliberate, dragging out every sensation.
I saw the tension building in his body, the wild need beneath the surface, and when he suddenly stilled me, I knew.
His hands gripped my hips—firm, commanding—and in one fluid motion, he withdrew.The sudden emptiness punched the breath from my lungs, a whimper tangled in my throat.But then—a gasp.Sharp.Shattered.He turned me, guiding me onto all fours with a possessive ease that left no space for question, only surrender.
The air kissed my flushed skin, but then he was there—behind me, against me, his chest warm against my back, the heat of him overwhelming.
One hand slid along my waist, the other pressing between my shoulder blades, holding me still, anchoring me as his body aligned with mine.His breath was hot against my ear, and his voice was low, rough silk when he spoke.
“Like this, Elizabeth.Let me have you.Let me feel you—all of you.”
I pushed back into him instinctively, my body yearning, open, ready.A soft cry left my lips as he entered me again, slowly, deeply, filling me until I was breathless, his groan a sound of raw satisfaction.
We moved together, the pace unhurried but intense, every stroke deep, designed to make me feel every inch of him.His hands roamed over me—my hips, my back, one sliding beneath to tease my breast, the pad of his thumb brushing my nipple until I moaned his name, shivering.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing my neck, his voice a mix of tenderness and command.“Like this.Always.”
