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I shift in my seat, trying to find some relief as my arousal becomes impossible to ignore. My cock strains against the fabric of my trousers, demanding release. Gritting my teeth, I surreptitiously adjust myself, cursing the visibility of my private box for not allowing me more freedom.
"Damn it, Isabella," I mutter under my breath, my gaze never leaving her lithe form. "You have no idea what you do to me."
The obsession consumes me, gnawing at the edges of my sanity like a ravenous beast. I've ruled this city with an iron fist for years, but one glimpse of Isabella Hartley has brought me to my knees. The need to possess her is nearly overwhelming, a hunger that threatens to devour me whole.
Her movements on stage are a siren's song, luring me deeper into the abyss of my infatuation. Each graceful pirouette taunts me, each elegant leap a reminder that she remains just out of my reach. It's maddening, this unrelenting desire. It courses through my veins like wildfire, consuming every rational thought and leaving only chaos in its wake.
Vincenzo De Luca, feared mob boss reduced to a quivering mess by a dancer. I scoff at my own weakness. But it's true. She has managed to infiltrate my defenses and lay siege to my heart. And now, I cannot rest until she ismine.
Watching her glide effortlessly across the stage, I'm momentarily distracted from the frustration pulsing within me. She is a vision, her passion and dedication to her craft evident in every flawless move. I long to claim that passion for myself, to have her submit to me with the same intensity she gives to her dance.
I sit in silence, mesmerized by her until the final curtain falls and she leaves the stage. The spell is broken. It's time to make my move.
I wait for her in the shadows of her dressing room, my heart pounding as I hear her footsteps approach. She stops in front of the closed door, hesitating for a moment before slipping inside and closing it behind her.
My breath catches in my throat at the sight that greets me as I step into the tiny room. Isabella stands there with one hand on her hip, a defiant look on her face as she locks eyes with me.
"You must be lost," she says curtly, though beneath the anger I can see a trace of curiosity in her gaze that gives me hope that my plan will succeed.
I close the distance between us with purposeful strides, ignoring Isabella's protestations as I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to me. My other hand slides up to cup her cheek tenderly, our eyes still locked together as I lean down to whisper words of adoration against lips so soft they almost beg to be kissed.
"I've been looking for you all night," I murmur huskily, watching as a blush creeps across Isabella's cheeks. "And now here you are."
Her breath hitches slightly before she takes a shaky step back from me and turns away nervously, seemingly desperate for some space between us even though every fiber of my being craves closeness with this beautiful woman who has captivated me so completely.
Taking advantage of this opportunity to press my advantage, I step forward to stand behind her, my chest pressed against her back as I wrap my arms around her waist once again. She gasps at the contact but doesn't pull away.
"Don't run from me, Isabella," I whisper into her ear. "You know you want this as much as I do."
"But I don't even know you," she protests weakly, even as her body betrays her with the way it melts into mine.
"You will," I promise, brushing my lips against her neck before trailing kisses down to her collarbone. "I'll make sure of it."
With that, I turn her around to face me, my hands roving over her body as I kiss her hungrily, consumed by the need to possess her entirely. Isabella moans into my mouth, her hands clenching in my hair as she surrenders to my touch.
And I know that I have succeeded. Isabella ismine, body and soul.
"Fuck, you beautiful, perfect girl," I moan as I fist my hands in that hair that has tormented me for so long now. It's just as silky and soft as I imagined.
Isabella whimpers and tries to pull away from me, but I know she's just getting inside her own head.
She wants this. I know it. And I'm not letting her go now. I tighten my arms around her and deepen our kiss, intent on conquering her.
"I watch you twirl around on that motherfucking stage every day, driving me insane. Feel what you do to me?" I grab Isabella's hand and press it against my hard cock.
When she gasps at the contact, her cheeks flaming red, my suspicions are confirmed, and my cock grows even harder at the knowledge.
"Why, Isabella, are you a virgin?"
Isabella's cheeks turn even pinker, and a thrill rushes through me. I'm so hard I could bust through concrete, and my cock starts overflowing with precum, eager to claim this beautiful creature as my own.
Mine. Only mine.
"Good," I whisper in her ear. "Now I won't have to kill anyone."
She shoots me a look that says I'm crazy. Maybe I am, but I'm not joking. I'd have killed any other fucker who ever touched her. I'm too jealous to share her—even with the memory of another man's touch.
But she's not mine—yet. And I'm not letting her go until she is. My hands slide down her body, making her shudder.
