comment that rose above the surface. Being as sensitive to him as I was, I felt it.
“No.” I shook my head. “You’re much more, Brando. You’re mine. L'ange de Scarlett. Scarlett’s angel.”
“Angelo sbagliata,” he repeated.
His hold on me tightened, and if I ever could hear a heartbeat, it was his in that moment. It seemed to pulse with a penance-chasing rhythm.
He lifted himself, tucking me underneath him, and without his urging, my legs parted, his body already the master of mine. He hovered over me, ready, but refusing to touch me. A soft noise escaped my lips, already anticipating, wanting with savage hunger and thirst.
He eyes were as hot as coals, downright molten, and glazed over with the sadness and struggles he held prisoner. A sweep over my exposed flesh had me almost squirming, but I denied the urge.
“Sei perfetto,” he said, in that way he had of almost speaking to himself. “Una creatura perfetta con le linee aggraziate di una farfalla.” You are perfect. A perfect creature with the graceful lines of a butterfly.
“A butterfly?” I breathed out.
It might as well have been his hands gliding up and down my naked body, but it was his eyes, all-absorbing and as heady as his touch. “Yeah. In the hands of a fucking beast.”
I went to touch him, but he captured my hands with his own, stopping me. He had me pinioned, a wrist on each side of my head. In that moment, the comparison never felt so real.
“Say it again.” His voice was low, hoarse with unshed emotions. His eyes searched mine, steady and relentless, as unforgiving as his hold on my wrists. “You’re mine.”
I should have been more frightened in that moment. I should have been terrified of him, of what he wanted from me. I had bled for him, and now I would give him beyond what words alone could promise. That’s what he demanded of me. To love him, to be his, to feel him even deeper than the pleasures of the flesh, despite it all—time, separation, all that comes with space.
My heart broke and healed all in the span of two beats. He was claiming me in a way that no one else would ever be able to. Staring into eyes that usually gave nothing away, I knew that I had claimed him in the same way.
It takes two to possess…
No hesitation.
Yes. I say yes. Again and again. “I’m yours.” Have it. “I’m yours.” Take it. “I’m yours, Brando Fausti.” Take me. All of me. This graceful creature is safe in the hands of her beast.
He closed his eyes, swallowed hard, locking the words away in his secret cage.
His mouth came down on mine, soft and warm, at first, and then became greedy and hot. I matched his avarice with fervor. A guttural noise seemed to rumble from the depths of his chest; a beast—I hadn’t realized what that word meant until now. Not truly. I blanched when he entered me to the hilt, but despite the tenderness, my body returned what he commanded of it. His madness ran parallel with my own.
We had grown past the stage of tender lovemaking; now he introduced me to something else entirely. The intensity of his thrusts was quickly bringing me to the edge of control. Sweat coated my body and tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. Not from crying, no, from an overflow that couldn’t be contained.
A bead of his own sweat ran down his sharp nose, dangling before it fell against my breast. “Te ne ricorderai,” he said, his tone sharp with the command. His eyes were even sharper, piercing through all resolve, until he hit soul. “Non dimenticherai mai a chi appartieni. Sei mio. Scarlett Rose.”
You will remember. You will never forget. You are mine.
He pulled out, just to come back harder, sending a jolt of white-hot lightning flaring through my lower belly. He kept bringing me to the brink of both pleasure and pain. Only a thin line of mania separated the two. And I knew he held back for my sake; I could feel the restraint trembling in his muscles.
I cried out, begging for mercy; at the same time, begging him not to stop. Never stop! His words were just as powerful as his thrusts, and with each one, he drove his point home.
You will remember. You will never forget. You are mine.
Despite the overwhelming sensations, my back arched, meeting him in fury, each time with an answering reply. Yes. I'm