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Let them see what happens when she gives herself to me like this.

I tear the remains of her dress away, leaving her naked except for black lace panties and the blood drying on her breast. My blade makes quick work of the delicate fabric, the tip dragging lightly across her inner thigh as I cut the panties free.

She's soaked, her arousal glistening in the candlelight. I push her thighs wider with both hands, baring her pussy completely.

"This is what blood does to you?" I ask, voice raw with desire. "My blade makes you wet, little rabbit?"

She doesn't look away, doesn't try to hide her reaction.

"Not the blade," she says, breathless but sure. "You. What you are. What we are together."

Something cracks inside me. Like a dam breaking, restraint shattering.

I free myself from my pants, cock hard and aching between us. In one savage thrust, I'm inside her, buried to the hilt in wet heat that feels like coming home.

She cries out, back arching, hands gripping the stone behind her for balance. I hold her hips in a bruising grip, driving my cock into her with a force that borders on punishment.

Each thrust of my hips rocks her against the balustrade, the position exposing her completely, making her take all of me.

"Mine," I growl, leaning forward to press my mouth to the cuts on her breast. "You're mine, Bianca.Mine."

"Yours," she gasps, head falling back as I hit that perfect spot inside her. "Always yours, Luca Ravelli."

I feel her tightening around me, her body climbing toward release. One hand leaves her hip to slide between us, finding where we're joined, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with my thrusts.

"Come for me," I command, pressing harder. "Come with my mark on your skin and my name on your lips."

She shatters with a broken cry, inner walls clenching around my cock in violent pulses. The sight of her coming undone with her head thrown back, throat exposed, blood smeared across her breast…fuck.

All of it pushes me over the edge.

I follow her into oblivion, spilling inside her with a guttural moan that tears from somewhere primal and possessive.

For long moments afterward, we remain locked together, breath mingling, hearts pounding against each other. Her fingers trace patterns on my shoulders, my back, gentle where I was rough.

I press my forehead to hers, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of what just happened between us.

Not just sex. Not just bloodplay. Something more elemental. A claiming that goes beyond flesh or law or rings.

"I should take care of these," I murmur eventually, brushing my thumb lightly over the cuts on her breast.

She catches my hand, brings it to her lips, kisses the knuckles that hours ago cut into another man's flesh.

"Not yet," she whispers. "I want to feel them a little longer."

I gather her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I carry her through the garden, past the remnants of our dinner, toward the warmth of our bed. The knife remains on the table behind us, blade gleaming with traces of her blood as I take her again, a silent witness to the covenant we've sealed this night.

Tomorrow, there will be time for questions. For investigations into her mother's strange reaction, for dealing with Dante's betrayal, for preparing Bianca for the Volkov meeting now just days away, for uncovering whatever secrets still lie buried in the past.

Tonight, she belongs to me completely.

And for the first time in my life, I begin to understand that I belong to her, too.

Chapter Eighteen

Luca

Thedoorstomywing crash open without warning, the sound reverberating through my office like gunfire.