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“Up, now!” I slam a fist down, an echo sounding throughout the room alongside her small shriek. I need her to fear me in order for her to trust me, then to want me. And Arabella thinking she can speak to me as if I'm not the man who now owns her is quite… erotically annoying. I want to fuck her so badly. Lay her down and make her take this cock until she can’t handle more. I want her to apologize with her body, treating me like a king in his castle who rescued his damsel.

She scurries to her feet, and I wrap my large palm around her thin bicep, pulling her toward the stairs that lead to my tower.

“I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm sorry. Please, just don’t hurt me.” She tries to repent for what she said, but it's too late. I want her, and the longer I wait, the madder I will go.

Opening the door to my room, I push her gently inside, stepping in and slamming the door behind us. She jumps, and just as she turns, we lock eyes as I bolt the door, the loud sound resonating inside us both. For me, it's me showing her what her world will now be. Mine. She will breathe me, want me, need me, be at my beck and call. For her, she thinks it’s her doom.

“Sweet Arabella. No one is going to save you, and if they try to take you from me, I will do to them what I was supposed to do to you. You’re mine now, principessa. Welcome to your new life.”

Her green orbs widen, her already pale skin somehow lightening a shade.

“Now strip.”

“No, please, I don’t want you to do this. Please,” she begs, and it makes my skin grow hot.

“I will not be taking anything against your will. But I need to make sure you don’t have weapons or anything you may try to use against me.”

She gawks. “You picked me up off the street. When would I have had time to hide a weapon?”

The fight is coming back, I see.

Good girl.

“Do not fight me, piccolina. I don’t have the time, and you need your rest.”

Eyeing me suspiciously, she crosses her arms. My chest fills with pride once more. I love that she can’t help but challenge me, even if she is terrified of me. Little does she know that will only work outside the bedroom.

“You're a monster, aren’t you? Why did you bring me here? Just kill me. Isn't that the deal?”

“You're upsetting me, Arabella. I’ve already told you I’m not going to kill you. Strip now, so we can get some rest. I have a lot to do tomorrow and don't have time for this.”

“No, if I'm going to be kept here like I'm just another man's property to use as he pleases, then kill me. I've lived my whole life controlled by men like you,” she spits, crossing her arms over her chest.

I realize my aggressive approach may need to take a back seat. She's not wrong. Hell, the only reason she’s here and mine now is because a man she trusted and who was supposed to protect her paid me to kill her. She needs me now. For protection, safety, and for far more than I know how to deal with.

We both have a lot to learn.

I give myself a moment to settle, let the hot-blooded male in me take a breather. “Principessa, I'm not here to hurt you or be another man who controls you. I promise you my intentions are nothing like the ones you've been exposed to your entire life. You're safe now, and I know my words and actions hold no meaning to you, especially after our unconventional way of meeting, but I'm here to keep you safe.”

Slightly, her guard begins to crumble, and her body visibly relaxes.

Giving me her compliance for now, she slowly begins to remove my hoodie and then her clothes. I have to try with all my might not to reach out and trail my hands along her skin as each inch becomes exposed to me. Her dainty, creamy thighs, her curved hips… fuck, that tight stomach with a light smatter of beauty marks. No bra, no fucking bra covering her beautiful breasts and rose-colored nipples.

This woman.

My demise.

“Baby,” I let out in a pained moan, gripping my hard jean-clad cock. God, she is breathtaking.

“What?” Biting her lip, she looks from my hand on my crotch to my face. Holy fuck, she likes seeing the control she has over me. I bet those lace panties are soaked.

“How am I supposed to wait to taste your skin when you are a temptress from head to toe? You're going to be the death of me.”

“Good. If it kills you, then it’s karma for what you did to me,” she speaks softly.

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