Chapter 4: Obsession
574 Words
She should’ve left. She told herself that even as her back hit the cold wall of his study, even as his body caged hers in.
But Elena couldn’t move.
Not when his mouth had just claimed hers like she belonged to him.
Not when his hands felt like sin wrapped in silk, sliding along her waist, anchoring her to this moment—this man.
Dominic Moretti didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. His touch was a command. And she... obeyed.
“I don’t do this,” she whispered, her breath ragged against his lips.
He didn’t smile. He studied her—eyes sharp and shadowed with hunger.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I want you.”
His hand moved to her throat—not squeezing, just resting there, his thumb brushing the rapid beat of her pulse.
“You feel that?” he murmured. “That’s mine now.”
Her breath hitched. Heat flooded between her thighs, and her knees nearly gave out. But he caught her, strong arms lifting her with terrifying ease, placing her on the edge of his desk like she was weightless.
Like he already owned her.
His hands didn’t rush. He took his time—dragging his fingers up the inside of her thighs, teasing her through the soft material of her dress.
Her legs trembled. Her lips parted. “Dominic...”
“Say it again,” he growled, pulling her closer.
She did. “Dominic.”
He groaned low in his throat like the sound alone unraveled him. His mouth found her neck, trailing down with slow, heated kisses, each one bolder than the last, tasting her like he’d starved for it.
Then his fingers slipped beneath her dress.
She gasped—pure shock and desire mingling in her chest. No one had ever touched her like this. Like they weren’t just claiming her body—but her soul.
“You’re soaked,” he murmured, voice gravel and heat against her skin. “Tell me, sweet girl... is that for me?”
She could barely breathe, let alone answer. But her hips lifted, instinctively chasing his touch.
He smiled then—dark, satisfied.
And gave her what she wanted.
His fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing moans from her lips, each one softer than the last—until she was whimpering his name like a prayer.
But he didn’t stop.
He leaned in, whispering filth against her ear, telling her exactly what he’d do to her next, exactly how good she’d feel when he finally—
“Beg.” he growled, cutting off her thought with a sharp kiss to her throat. “Beg me to let you come.”
She whimpered, eyes wide, skin flushed. She should’ve been ashamed—but she wasn’t.
She was too far gone.
“Please,” she whispered. “Dominic... please.”
He growled his approval, and within seconds, the heat crashed over her like a wave—wild, blinding, shattering.
He held her through it. Grounded her with his body, his grip, his voice murmuring low praises into her neck.
Only when she collapsed against him, trembling and dazed, did he finally pull back. His thumb brushed her lips, gentle now. Reverent.
“You’re mine,” he said again, like it was law. “From this moment forward.”
She should’ve said no.
But instead...
She leaned in and kissed him like she’d never breathe again.
- Writer
