Scarlette
He smiles down at me, a smile that’s both possessive and seductive, the moment I admit the truth.
“Yes, habibti . You are mine.”
I press my hands against his chest, my heart hammering against my ribs. Since I’ve admitted that, surely he’ll let me go now? Surely this madness can stop before it goes too far?
“Lykan—”
“Now, it’s time to make you my wife.”
Wait.
What?
Did he just say—
All thoughts fade the moment he covers my lips with his, his tongue invading my mouth, his hands claiming my body with a hunger that steals my breath.
I’m dimly aware that he’s lifting me, carrying me somewhere, but I can’t focus on anything except the way he tastes, the way his mouth moves against mine like he’s starving for me.
When he sets me down, I blink and try to orient myself.
We’re still in his office, but now I’m seeing it properly for the first time.
The space is stunning and stark—all clean lines and monochromatic elegance.
Black leather furniture against pristine white walls, dramatic charcoal sketches hung with precision, everything rendered in shades of shadow and light.
It’s beautiful.
It’s also somehow lonely.
Like a man who sees the world in absolutes, with no room for the messy grays in between.
But I don’t have time to analyze his decorating choices because Lykan is already reaching for the zipper at the back of my dress. The cool air hits my skin as the fabric pools at my feet, and suddenly I’m standing before him in nothing but my bra and panties.
I should feel exposed. Vulnerable.
Instead, I feel powerful when I see the way his eyes darken as they drink me in.
“Perfect,” he breathes, and the reverence in his voice makes me shiver.
His hands are gentle as he reaches around to unclasp my bra, letting it fall away. Then his thumbs hook into the sides of my panties, and those disappear too, leaving me completely bare before him.
I want to cover myself, but the look in his eyes stops me. He’s staring at me like I’m something precious. Something worth worshipping.
“Lie down,” he says softly, gesturing to the long black leather couch.
I do as he asks, watching as he strips off his remaining clothes. And oh.
Oh my.
He’s magnificent. All lean muscle and golden skin, and when my gaze travels lower, my breath catches in my throat.
He’s huge.
Impossibly, intimidatingly huge.
“Lykan,” I whisper, suddenly nervous. “I don’t think—”
“Shh.” He moves over me, settling between my thighs, and I can feel the heat of him against my entrance. “Trust me, habibti . I’ll take care of you.”
He kisses me again, deep and consuming, while his hands roam my body with practiced skill. By the time he pulls back, I’m trembling with need, my hips moving restlessly beneath him.
“Please,” I breathe, though I’m not even sure what I’m asking for.
He positions himself at my entrance, and I feel the thick head of him pressing against me. The sensation is overwhelming—too much and not enough all at once.
“Look at me,” he commands softly.
I meet his dark eyes just as he pushes forward, stretching me impossibly wide. The pain is sharp and immediate, and I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“I know,” he soothes, stilling inside me. “I know it hurts. But it will pass, I promise.”
He’s only partway inside me, but already I feel completely full. Stretched beyond my limits. I don’t know how I’ll take all of him.
But he’s patient, so incredibly patient, pressing forward inch by torturous inch, letting my body adjust to his size. When the sharp pain finally fades, it’s replaced by something else—a deep, aching fullness that makes me gasp.
“More,” I whisper, surprising myself.
His eyes flash with something primal, and he pushes deeper until finally he’s seated fully inside me. I feel split open, claimed, completely and utterly possessed.
“Mine,” he growls against my ear, and then he starts to move.
What follows is unlike anything I could have imagined. He’s so careful at first, his movements slow and measured, letting me get used to the feel of him. But as my body responds, as I start to move with him instead of against him, something shifts.
The careful control begins to fray.
His thrusts become deeper, more demanding, and I can only hold on as he drives into me with increasing intensity. Each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body, building higher and higher until I can barely breathe.
“Lykan,” I gasp, my head thrown back as sensation overwhelms me.
“That’s it, habibti. Let go for me.”
When the climax hits, it’s like being struck by lightning. My body convulses around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, and I hear myself crying out his name.
But he doesn’t stop. Even as I’m still trembling from the aftershocks, he’s pulling out and sitting up, reaching for me.
“What are you—”
“We’re not done,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “Not even close.”
Before I can protest, he’s lifting me, positioning me so I’m straddling his lap. I can feel him, hard and ready beneath me, and despite the sensitivity between my legs, my body responds instantly.
“I want to watch you this time,” he murmurs, his hands settling on my hips. “I want to see your face when you take me.”
He guides me down onto him, and the new angle makes me gasp. He feels even bigger this way, if that’s possible, filling me so completely I can barely think.
“Move,” he commands softly. “Show me how much you want this.”
I try to lift myself up, but my legs are shaking, weak from my first climax. “I don’t know how—”
“I’ll teach you.” His hands tighten on my hips, lifting me almost completely off him before slowly lowering me back down. “Like this.”
The sensation is incredible. Different. I’m in control but somehow completely at his mercy at the same time.
“Again,” he orders, and I try to match the rhythm he’s set.
Up and down. Up and down. Each movement sends sparks through my already oversensitive body, and I can feel another climax building impossibly fast.
“I can’t,” I pant, my movements becoming erratic. “It’s too much. Please, I need to stop—”
“No.” His grip on my hips tightens, and suddenly he’s the one controlling the movement, bouncing me on his lap with a relentless rhythm. “You don’t get to stop. Not until I say so.”
Up and down and up and down and up and down, faster and faster until I’m sobbing with the intensity of it. The pleasure is so overwhelming it borders on pain, and I can feel myself spiraling toward another climax that threatens to tear me apart.
“Please,” I beg, though I’m not sure if I’m begging him to stop or to never stop.
“Come for me again,” he growls, his own control finally fraying. “Come for me now.”
The second orgasm hits me like a freight train, so much more intense than the first that my vision goes white. I feel my body clenching around him impossibly tight as wave after wave of sensation crashes over me.
It’s too much. Too intense. Too everything.
The last thing I’m aware of is Lykan’s arms catching me as I collapse against his chest, consciousness slipping away as my body finally surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.
When I wake, I’m still in his arms, my head tucked against his shoulder. I’m warm and protected, and there’s something different about the way I feel. Like I’ve been fundamentally changed. Reborn.
I shift slightly and feel the sticky evidence of our joining between my legs. My face burns as the memories come flooding back.
“You’re awake.” His voice is a low rumble against my ear.
I look up to find him watching me with an intensity that makes my cheeks burn even hotter. “How long was I...?”
“Not long.” His thumb brushes across my cheekbone with infinite tenderness. “You feel it, too.”
My heart trips at his words, at the vulnerability I hear beneath them.
“Don’t you?” he asks.
I can only nod, because he’s right. Something has changed, not just inside me, but between us too. There’s a connection now that wasn’t there before, invisible but unbreakable.
I watch in fascination as he reaches for a box of tissues on the side table. My face flames when I realize what he intends to do.
“Lykan, I can—”
“Let me.” His voice is gentle but firm. “Let me take care of you.”
I’m embarrassed but also deeply moved by his tenderness as he cleans between my legs with careful, reverent touches. No one has ever cared for me like this before. Made me feel so cherished.
When he’s finished, he pulls me back into his arms. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“You’re thinking something,” he says after a moment. “Speak your thoughts, habibti .”
I bite my lip, then venture quietly, “You said earlier that you’d make me your wife.”
“I did.” His arms tighten around me. “And in the eyes of the laws of my kingdom, it is done. I have claimed you as my wife. Arav will make sure to submit the papers to your government so that you will be recognized as such.”
I lift my head to stare at him. “You mean we’re actually...?”
“Married. Yes.”