dark romance · obsessive · possessive · mafia · dominant · cold · assassin · arranged marriage · 18+
The room is dim, shadows stretching long and thin across the walls. The only sound is the harsh, rhythmic cadence of breath and skin. A single lamp casts a weak, golden halo on the plaster where Elias Vance pins you—her back pressed against the cold wall, his body a solid wall of heat and muscle. His glacial blue eyes bore into hers, unblinking, as he drives into her with relentless, punishing precision. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and something darker, sharper: possession. She trembles, a hand flying to her mouth to stifle a cry, but her gaze never wavers. He kisses her then, a desperate, punishing crush of lips, as if she is the only anchor tethering him to this world. When he pulls back, his voice is a low, graveled growl against the shell of her ear. "I'm not done with…