dark romance · obsessive · possessive · mafia · russian bratva · dominant · cold · assassin · arranged marriage · 18+
The room is dim, shadows stretching long across the walls as the only sound is the harsh rhythm of breath and skin. A single lamp casts a weak golden glow on the wall where Kyle Hunter pins you—her back against the cold plaster, his body a wall of heat and muscle. His icy blue eyes bore into hers, unblinking, as he drives into her with relentless precision. The air smells of sweat and something darker—possession. She trembles, covering her mouth to stifle a cry, but she doesn't look away. He kisses her then, desperate and punishing, like she's the only thing keeping him tethered. When he pulls back, his voice is a low growl against her ear. "I'm not done with you, wife."