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“They’re hurting you.” He glares at them. It wouldn’t surprise me if his hard stare incinerated them for causing me discomfort.

My insides turn to mush, my heart singing a song to him and opening for heartbreak. He has turned me into this emotional being. I don’t like that he has so much power over me. I pull back my hand and speed walk down the garden path, needing a moment to compose myself.

Soft golden round lights are placed strategically on each side of the pavement, leading to a fountain in the middle.

“This won’t work like this,” he says, erasing the distance and walking by my side.

I purse my lips. “This won’t work at all.”

I barely take two more steps when he hauls me from the ground and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Put me down, you brute,” I say, pummeling his back, wanting to punish him for causing this disconnect between my brain and heart.

Of course, he doesn’t listen because this man is custom made to make me lose my sanity. It’s not the only thing I am losing over him, and it terrifies me.

He won’t let go. He’ll make me face what I don’t want to because then my life will be altered irrevocably. I could neverreturn to the status quo and that has been the only thing keeping me going.

He pushes me inside the limousine, discarding me in the back seat. His dark and broody energy wraps around me, thrilling me.

“Put the partition up, Tomaso,” he commands and when it’s up, secluding us in privacy, I move further away, not wanting to make it easy for him. But he’s the apex predator, easily overpowering me, making me aware that there’s no escape—only to fall right into his arms.

He wants me, and he will take me, as it’s the universal rule of our story.

A tremor wracks through me, and I experience a bout of frustration coupled with blinding desire.

“On your knees,” he demands.

A wave of lust surges through me. I will lose, but I refuse to make it so easy for him.

“Ask nicely.”

Through gritted teeth, he says, “On your knees. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The threat shouldn’t be hot, yet it is. I slide to my knees, baring my teeth to let him know I am not pleased at all. He loves to strip me bare, forcing me to obey him. He has me, but he’ll learn a lesson too. My submission is on my terms.

I look up at him, knowing exactly what he wants, but stubbornly cross my arms over my chest.

He arches a brow. “Playing games, amore?”

I huff. “Suck yourself off, amore. I’ll bite your cock off.”

“First, take it in your mouth. Though I doubt you can cram even half of my cock in.”

The challenge does what it’s supposed to do—makes me want to prove him wrong that I can take him even if I will most certainly choke to death on it, but I won’t back off.

“Take my cock out. Fucking now.”

How is it possible that I get wetter at his command, hotter, so wanton that I need to obey him and end this show of defiance? The sooner I do what he demands, the sooner I will find relief for my aching core.

With shaky fingers, I unbuckle him, taking out his cock that leaks pre-cum as if weeping for my attention. He leans back, closing his eyes for a moment, relaxing and so damn sure I will suck his cock like a good girl.

Just to piss him off, I nip the crown. The growl he lets out almost makes me come.

In one swift move, he fists his hand in my hair, pushing my face into his lap.

“If you act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one.”

And then he fucks my mouth like he owns it, turning me into a hot mess. I choke on his cock, gagging every time he hits the back of my throat, and he’s not even halfway in. Spit drips down my chin as he continues plunging his enormous shaft into my mouth.