His Mark
349 Words
Chapter 17 – His Mark
The silence inside the estate was more dangerous than screams.
Alesia stood at the edge of Nico’s private chamber—barefoot, dressed in silk, her eyes locked on the man who had stolen everything from her and given her something else entirely in return: obsession.
He was seated, shirtless, a glass of whiskey untouched on the table beside him. The deep scars on his chest glinted in the low firelight. War trophies. Warnings.
“I warned you never to leave the property,” he said without raising his voice.
“I needed air.”
“You needed control,” Nico corrected, rising from the chair. He walked toward her slowly, like a predator savoring the final step of the hunt. “But you don’t get that here, Alesia.”
She didn’t flinch, though her heart was pounding. She hated how much she wanted him—how every inch of her skin felt like it was waiting for his touch, even if that touch came with bruises and commands.
He reached her, pressing a finger to the hollow of her throat. “You belong to me. This body, this mouth, this fire in your eyes—it’s mine.”
“I’m not a possession,” she whispered.
His hand slid to the side of her neck, tilting her head slightly. “No, you're a curse I chose. A storm I chained to my bed.”
Her breath caught when his mouth brushed against her ear. “And tonight, I’ll remind you why you stopped fighting me.”
He didn’t undress her—he tore the silk at the seam, baring her to the cold air of the room and the heat in his eyes. His hands were rough, claiming, as he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her deeper into the shadows of the room.
The fire crackled behind them.
Her body knew the rhythm now—the way he touched not just to dominate, but to possess. Every kiss, every grip of his hands, was a vow: she wasn’t going anywhere.
And she didn’t want to.
- Writer
