Bound by Obsession

Chapter Four

Alina woke to the unfamiliar scent of expensive cologne and the faint hum of the city far below. For a moment she forgot where she was, cocooned in silk sheets softer than anything she had ever touched. Then the memories of the night before slammed into her like a storm.

Alexander. His demanding touch. His voice, low and commanding. The way he had taken her like she belonged to him.

She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, her breath unsteady. The enormous penthouse bedroom looked almost unreal, with its floor-to-ceiling windows opening out to the glittering skyline. Everything screamed wealth and power—everything that wasn’t hers.

Her stomach clenched. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Last night was supposed to be about survival. She had signed a contract, a deal to save her father’s debts. She wasn’t supposed to remember every detail of his hands on her body.

“Planning to run already?”

The deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. Alexander stood at the doorway, his suit jacket hanging open, his tie loose. He looked like he had barely slept, yet his dark eyes were sharp, unreadable, and fixed entirely on her.

Alina swallowed hard. “I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” He stepped inside, each movement controlled, deliberate. “You looked like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt. Let me make something clear. You don’t leave this place unless I say so.”

Her grip tightened on the sheet. “This wasn’t part of the deal. I’m not your prisoner.”

Alexander smirked, but there was no humor in it. “You’re my wife now. That makes you mine. Everything about you belongs to me.”

The words should have infuriated her, but instead heat spread through her chest, curling low in her stomach. She hated how her body betrayed her.

“You can’t own a person,” she whispered.

He crossed the room in two strides and caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. “Watch me.”

Her heart pounded. His touch was rough, but not cruel—possessive, like he was staking a claim. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and her breath caught.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “But it’s not fear, is it?”

She tried to push him away, but he only pressed closer, pinning her against the headboard. The sheet slipped from her grip, baring more of her skin to his gaze. His eyes darkened, and she knew what was coming before his mouth crushed against hers.

The kiss was nothing like the ones she had dreamed about as a girl. It was demanding, consuming, filled with a hunger that left no space for thought. His hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her in place, while the other traced a possessive path down her body.

“Alexander—” she gasped, breaking away. “We can’t—”

“We can. We will.” His voice was rough with desire. “Do you think one night was enough to satisfy me? No, Alina. You lit a fire in me, and now I can’t put it out.”

His mouth found her collarbone, trailing hot, urgent kisses down her skin. Her protest died in her throat as his hand slid lower, forcing a gasp from her lips. Every nerve in her body seemed to spark alive under his touch.

“Tell me to stop,” he challenged against her skin. “If you really want me to.”

But the words wouldn’t come. Her body betrayed her again, arching into him, craving more.

He groaned, a sound full of possession and frustration. “That’s what I thought. You can’t resist me. And I won’t resist you either.”

His control snapped then, his movements rough and insistent as he pushed her back onto the pillows. The world outside vanished. There was only his touch, his voice, his body claiming hers again and again until she was lost in the storm of him.

By the time it ended, she was trembling, her body spent, her mind a haze of confusion and unwanted desire.

Alexander leaned over her, his breath ragged, his gaze burning into hers. “You drive me insane,” he admitted hoarsely. “I should hate you for what your family did to mine, but all I can think about is keeping you here, beneath me, where you belong.”

Her throat tightened. “I don’t belong to you.”

“Yes, you do,” he growled. “And the sooner you accept it, the easier this will be.”

He stood, pulling on his shirt, already shutting himself back behind that cold exterior. But before he left the room, he glanced back at her, his expression unreadable.

“Get dressed. You’re moving into my schedule now. My world. And I don’t wait for anyone.”

The door clicked shut, leaving her breathless and reeling.

Alina pressed her palms to her face, her chest heaving. She should hate him. She should despise everything about this twisted arrangement. But her body was still humming with the memory of his touch, and that terrified her more than anything.