ANNABEL
In one reckless move, he tore my clothes apart—ripped them like they personally offended him. My gown flew into the air like it weighed nothing. Before I could blink, he shoved me back onto the bed. I hit the mattress hard, breathless, in nothing but my bra and the tiniest panties I owned. They were soaked, my body already begging.
“f**k, cupcake.”
His voice was a growl—deep, primal, like he was barely holding back. He stalked toward me like a hunter, eyes blazing, and with another rough push, I fell fully onto the bed. Instinctively, my legs started to close, slow and subtle—but he noticed. His breath hitched, and the second I moved, he pounced, pinning my thighs with his hands, holding me wide open with zero patience.
“Don’t close those legs, Annabel. I swear, if you do that
