SHE MUST BE MINE.

episode 5 : The beast unleashed.

The penthouse air was thick with the scent of them—sweat, desire, and the faint tang of whiskey still lingering on Vincenzo’s breath. Sophia lay sprawled across the sofa, her body humming from their earlier collision, her skin still tingling where his hands had claimed her. The city lights pulsed beyond the glass, a silent witness to the storm they’d ignited, but the quiet didn’t last. Vincenzo’s chest heaved beside her, his breathing uneven, and when she glanced at him, his eyes were molten—dark, wild, fixed on her with a hunger that hadn’t dimmed.

“You think we’re done?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a fresh shiver through her. Before she could answer, he was on her again, his hands seizing her hips with a grip that was all possession, flipping her onto her stomach with an effortless strength that made her gasp. “Not even close, cara.”

Her pulse surged, a mix of thrill and trepidation as he loomed over her, a beast unleashed—raw, untamed, his control fraying at the edges. His obsession with her body was a tangible thing, a force she felt in every touch, every glance. He ran his hands down her spine, slow at first, tracing the curve of her back like a sculptor worshipping his creation, but the gentleness didn’t last. His fingers dug into her flesh, kneading her hips, her thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough—couldn’t touch her hard enough, deep enough, to satisfy the need clawing inside him.

“f**k, look at you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her neck as he pressed himself against her, his arousal evident, insistent. “Every inch of you—mine.” His words were a claim, a vow, and they lit her up, her body arching instinctively into his touch despite the ache already settling into her muscles. He growled low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through her, primal and unrestrained, and then his mouth was on her—teeth grazing her shoulder, tongue tracing the salt of her skin, a predator savoring his prey.

He pulled her up, her back to his chest, one arm banding around her waist while his other hand roamed—cupping her breasts, pinching until she whimpered, then sliding lower, teasing between her thighs with a relentless precision that left her trembling. “You drive me insane,” he muttered, his lips at her ear, his voice thick with lust and something darker—obsession, addiction. “This body—I can’t stop wanting it.”

Sophia’s head fell back against his shoulder, a moan escaping as his fingers worked her, stoking the fire he’d already set ablaze. He was relentless, a beast in every sense—his touch rough, commanding, yet laced with a reverence that made her feel worshipped even as he devoured her. She felt the strain in his muscles, the barely-leashed power as he shifted, guiding her onto the floor, the plush rug soft beneath her knees as he positioned himself behind her.

He entered her with a thrust that stole her breath, deep and unyielding, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. “Take it,” he snarled, his rhythm brutal, animalistic, each movement a testament to his fixation—her curves, her heat, the way she yielded to him. She clawed at the rug, overwhelmed, lost in the intensity of him—the slap of skin, the guttural sounds he made, the way his fingers dug into her flesh like he’d never let go. He was a beast, unrestrained, and she was his obsession, his altar, his undoing.

His pace quickened, one hand sliding up to fist in her hair, pulling her head back as he leaned over her, his chest slick against her back. “Say my name,” he demanded, his voice ragged, desperate, and she did—Vincenzo—half-sob, half-prayer, the sound pushing him over the edge. He drove into her harder, faster, his growls turning to groans as he chased his release, dragging her with him into a shattering climax that left her boneless, breathless, consumed.

When it was over, he didn’t pull away. He collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms, his hands still roaming—softer now, but no less possessive—tracing her curves, her thighs, the dip of her waist like he was memorizing her. His breath was hot against her neck, his heartbeat a wild drum against her skin. “You’re in my blood,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, reverent. “I can’t get enough.”

Sophia lay there, spent, her body marked by his touch—his fingerprints on her hips, his scent on her skin, his need etched into her soul. She should’ve been afraid of the beast he’d become, the obsession that burned in his eyes, but all she felt was the echo of his hands, the pull of his desire, and the dangerous truth: she craved it too. The city hummed beyond them, a distant threat, but in that moment, they were a world unto themselves—bound by flesh, fire, and a hunger that wouldn’t let go.