Amelia's breath caught in her throat as Enzo's words reverberated inside her skull. You are mine now. The voice had been dark, commanding, full of possessiveness, the tenor running down her spine, finding its comfortable seat right inside the marrow of her bones. She felt every inch of him against her-the hard, unyielding planes of his body, the razor heat of his breath on her skin, his hand pressing dangerously low on her waist. Her heart thundered in her chest, her body caught between a fight for freedom and a deep, unsettling pull toward him.
She tried to gather her thoughts, but they slipped through her fingers like sand. Every time she tries to move, say something, break free, he tightens his grip, forcing her to stay put.
"Enzo, per favore," she whispered, the voice barely audible and trembling.
The sound of his name in her mouth sent a jolt through him, and he drew back an inch to peer into her eyes. The smile that spread across his face was dark, knowing too well. He studied her, his gaze bright and calculating, reading every hidden thought behind her eyes.
"Please what, Amelia?" his tone was low, almost playful, but clear cut command in it did not escape notice. "What do you want me to do? Let you go?"
Her chest heaved up and down several consecutive times as she fought to say something, to make sense with her words. She parted her lips; no sound filtered through.
Enzo leaned in again, his lips but a whisper from hers. "You think you want to run, to get away from me, but I can see it in your eyes. You don't want to leave. Not really."
Amelia shut her eyes and willed herself to shut out the words, the proximity. But the heat of his body and cologne overwhelmed her, the firmness of his touch too. And she felt herself weakening-not in the manner that she wanted to admit, but in a way that she could not deny.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered low, his lips grazing her ear. "At least, not physically. But you will beg me to. in other ways. You won't be able to help it, Amelia."
Her stomach twisted with it, a dark thrill coursing through her veins despite herself. Every instinct yelled to get away, but the part of her she didn't want to feel was hungry for this-for the danger, for the raw intensity of what he represented.
Enzo's hand slid away from her waist, tracing its path down her side, skittering a thousand goosebumps down her skin. His fingers swooped lower to graze the curve of her hip. Amelia made a strangled noise and tried to push herself back from him, but his arms enfolded her once more, trapping her in his embrace.
"Don't you fight me, Amelia," he said in a low, rough tone that sounded threatening even to his ears. "You're not going anywhere until I say you can."
Her throat was parched, as if she swallowed all of her saliva, and her mind was a battlefield, urging him to go away. Yet that undeniable magnetism drew her closer. Every inch of her body screamed at her to break free yet there was a part of her wanting to stay, wanted more of him for exploration of this dangerous, forbidden pull between them.
He quirked a finger beneath her chin, raised it until she had no choice but to lock gazes with him. "You're mine now. Don't you forget that."
Before she could protest, his lips came crashing onto hers. Amelia's mind just blanked out for a moment. She froze under his touch, as her kiss deepened into his. His mouth was commanding, urgent. His lips commanded; he slid his tongue into her mouth without permission, claiming her in that way, so it ran her blood hot.
The kiss was electric-it fanned the flame in her that she didn't know had existed. She felt his hands roaming her body, pulling her closer, and heaved a response from her body she protested. She couldn't deny it anymore-the way he made her feel, the pull too strong to resist.
When he finally drew back, Amelia lay ragged-breathing; her chest rose and fell with the wild pounding of her heart. Her eyes were huge, searching his face, and for a moment something softer huddled beneath the wintry glare of his calculating gaze-something that almost resembled tenderness.
Enzo smiled, a smirk all but triumphant, knowing. "See? I told you. You want this, even if you do not want to admit it."
Her body trembled, her lips opening to speak, but no words came out. What could she possibly say? She couldn't explain why this was inside her; she couldn't say in words this storm which had been stirred within her.
"Continue," he whispered, releasing her. "Run if you want to. But you will always come back. And when you do, you'll know whom you belong to."
Amelia stood there staring at him, this weird sense of dread and desire twisting inside her. She knew this was wrong-everything about him was dangerous. Still, in an unexplainable way, she felt that she was already too far gone to stop.
She hunched forward to turn away, and his voice caught her.
"Remember, Amelia," Enzo said softly now, an edge to his tone, almost playful. "I'll always be watching. And the next time you return, I won't be so easy on you."
Amelia didn't turn around. She couldn't. She walked out of the room, her mind spinning with a thousand questions and emotions she didn't understand.
One thing was certain her life had just become a dangerous game, and Enzo Romano was the one holding all the cards.