Leon didn’t just enter a room; he reclaimed it. When he saw lilly laughing with the gardener, the glass in his hand nearly shattered. Now, back inside the manor, the air felt heavy with his simmering territorial rage.
"He touched your arm," leon hissed, backing her against the cold marble of the foyer. Lilly, draped in soft cream silk that mimicked her gentle nature, shook her head.
"It was an accident, leon. Please—"
"Everything about you is mine to touch," he interrupted, his voice a low, jagged blade. He caught her waist, hauling her flush against his rigid frame.
His obsession was a physical weight, suffocating and intoxicating. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her vanilla scent before biting the sensitive skin there, marking her as his in the most primal way.
Lilly let out a soft whimpering breath, her fingers curling into his dark suit. He captured her mouth in a kiss that wasn't a request, but a conquest.
It was bruising, deep, and tasted of his desperate need to own her soul. His hands wandered with a frantic, possessive heat, stripping away her defenses until she was trembling, completely undone by the man who would burn the world down just to keep her trapped in his arms.
