Bound by Obsession

Chapter 3

The door closed with a heavy thud, sealing her inside the vast bedroom that was now hers. The curtains were drawn, shadows spilling across the room as the faint golden glow of the chandelier clung to the carved edges of the ceiling. Everything smelled expensive—leather, wood polish, and the faint spice of his cologne.

Alina’s chest rose and fell quickly. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, the lace of her sleeves scratching against her skin. She told herself to stand tall, to keep her chin up, even though every nerve in her body screamed at her to run.

This wasn’t a home. This wasn’t safety. It was a prison in silk and marble.

Behind her, Alexander prowled into the room like a predator who knew exactly what belonged to him. His suit jacket was already off, the crisp shirt stretched over broad shoulders, the black tie loosened at his throat. He looked devastating in the low light, his sharp cheekbones cast into shadow, his eyes impossibly dark.

His gaze lingered on her for a long, dangerous moment, sweeping slowly over her body as though memorizing every curve through the delicate wedding gown.

Alina swallowed, her voice thin when she finally forced it out. “So this is it, then? The end of the performance?”

Alexander’s mouth curved, though it was no smile. “Performance? No, Alina. This is only the beginning.”

He stepped closer, and her back instinctively brushed against the edge of the bed. She hadn’t even realized she’d been retreating until there was nowhere left to go. Her heart kicked violently in her chest as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against her ear.

“You are mine now,” he murmured, low and rough. “Legally, completely. Don’t ever forget that.”

His hand brushed her waist, fingers tightening on the satin fabric before tugging, not gently, pulling her closer. Her breath caught as the layers of her gown rustled between them.

“You don’t even like me,” she said, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“Like?” His laugh was short, dangerous. “No, Alina. I don’t like you.” His lips hovered above hers, his words vibrating against her mouth. “But I want you. And wanting you is enough.”

Before she could protest, his mouth crashed against hers. It wasn’t soft or tender. It was fire and possession, his lips forcing hers apart, his tongue claiming her as though he had every right. She gasped, her hands braced against his chest, but he was unmovable, solid as stone, kissing her until her head spun.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes blazed. “You taste like sin,” he growled, dragging his thumb over her swollen lower lip. “And I’ve been starving for it.”

Her knees trembled, and she hated herself for the heat pooling low in her belly. She wasn’t supposed to feel this. Not for him. Not for a man who had cornered her into this marriage like a hunter closing in on prey.

Yet his touch lit her nerves alive.

With a sharp motion, Alexander grabbed the edge of her gown. “This,” he muttered, voice thick with impatience, “is in my way.”

The sound of fabric tearing split the silence as he ripped through the delicate stitching. Alina gasped. “Alexander—”

“Quiet,” he snapped, though his tone was more strained than cruel, as if he was holding on to the last thread of control. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like, waiting for this moment? Watching you stand there, pretending you’re untouchable, while I know every man in the room wanted to imagine you like this? Mine.”

His hand slid up her thigh, bare where he’d exposed her, and her breath broke in a ragged gasp. He pressed her back against the bed until she fell against the pillows, towering above her, his shadow covering her completely.

“You’ll learn quickly, Alina,” he whispered, his voice both warning and promise. “This marriage may be built on my revenge, but your body belongs to me now. And I don’t share.”

His mouth descended on her throat, hot and demanding, teeth scraping against sensitive skin. Her fingers curled into the sheets, a helpless moan spilling from her lips despite herself.

Alexander froze, then pulled back just enough to look at her. His eyes were wild, burning with something darker than desire. “That sound,” he muttered hoarsely. “Don’t ever hide it from me.”

And then he was on her again, lips trailing down her collarbone, hands tugging ruthlessly at the ruined dress until it pooled around her waist. He didn’t give her space to breathe, didn’t give her time to think. His hands claimed, his mouth demanded, his body pressed hers deeper into the mattress as though he could brand her into it.

Her pulse hammered in her throat, her body betraying her with every shiver, every arch of her back as his touch grew rougher, needier. He wasn’t careful, he wasn’t gentle—he was consuming her, devouring her, as if obsession had taken root in his veins.

“Say it,” he ordered suddenly, his voice jagged as he dragged his mouth over her breast. “Say you’re mine.”

Her breath hitched, torn between resistance and the unbearable ache building inside her. “I…”

His teeth caught her n****e, sharp enough to make her cry out, and he pulled back just enough to growl, “Mine, Alina.”

Her resolve crumbled, her voice spilling out in a whisper she couldn’t hold back. “Yours.”

Alexander’s eyes closed briefly, his chest heaving as though those words had undone him. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze nearly swallowed her whole.

“Good girl,” he rasped, before capturing her mouth in another bruising kiss, his hands roaming lower, claiming, demanding.

The world blurred into heat, into the rasp of sheets and the sound of their ragged breaths colliding. For every rough touch, for every thrust of possession, there was that undercurrent of obsession in him, as though he was terrified she might slip away if he didn’t keep her under his body, under his control, under his desire.

And for the first time since the wedding began, Alina realized this man wasn’t just ruthless. He was dangerous in another way—because Alexander Stone was obsessed with her. And obsession, she feared, was far harder to escape than hatred.