I looked down and shuddered with pleasure.
I should be repulsed—it should have made me push him away, scream, do something that a normal person would do.
But instead, I felt an electrifying jolt of desire that shot through my body like wildfire.
And I was so fucking wet.
Surely the lingerie dripped with my essence.
I had truly unleashed something in him, something fierce and uncontrollable, and now there was no turning back.
“Dirty you?” Gianni growled low. “Oh, Princess, you have no idea what you’ve just asked for.”
I widened my eyes.
Gianni somehow yanked me closer, and his fingers dug into my flesh as he pulled me against his hard, muscular body.
The blood from his hands smeared my skin, further marking me.
Claiming me as his.
Telling my body that he had killed for me.
For us.
And he would do it again and again.
And again.
My breath hitched as his mouth descended on my neck, and his teeth grazed the sensitive skin there.
Oh God.
I gasped, but the sound was swallowed by the low, guttural growl that rumbled from his chest.
“You’re mine. Do you know that?”
“Y-yes.” I shivered with desire.
He hissed against my skin. “You belong to me now. Every inch of you, every cell, every strand of hair, every drop of blood, every breath you take—mine. All fucking mine.”
“Y-yes.”
The possessiveness in his voice.
It was so wrong, yet so right.
The dark thrill of it.
The intense heat in every syllable.
Good God, it made my legs weak.
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against my ear. “Say you’re mine.”
Without any hesitation, I whispered, “I’m yours, Gianni.”
Another low, satisfied growl rumbled from his chest, and he nipped at my neck, drowning me in ecstasy.
