I told myself not to go.
I told myself to stay in my apartment, lock the door, keep my body far away from the one man who had already stolen my soul.
But when the black car pulled up outside the KnightCorp tower, sleek and waiting, I climbed in without hesitation.
I hated myself for it.
And yet… my heart was pounding. My thighs pressed together, seeking friction, remembering the way he'd promised: Tonight, you'll see what it really means to belong to me.
The car stopped in front of a building I'd never seen before. Dark glass, discreet, guarded. Not KnightCorp. Not his penthouse. Somewhere else.
The driver opened the door, and I stepped into the night air, shivering though it wasn't cold.
Then he appeared.
Liam Knight, in black. Suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened but still immaculate. His presence alone drowned the street in power. He extended a hand, and I took it like a fool.
"Good girl," he murmured, lips brushing my ear as he guided me inside.
The space was dimly lit, shadows dancing across polished walls. Music pulsed softly from somewhere deep within, steady, sensual, almost like a heartbeat. My heels clicked against the floor, too loud, too vulnerable.
And then I realized.
This wasn't just a building. It was a private club.
Not the kind for cocktails and chatter. This was darker. Intimate. Dangerous.
Men and women lounged on velvet couches, champagne glasses in hand, silk and lace slipping off their bodies. Eyes followed us, curious, knowing. I felt my skin heat, embarrassment crawling up my throat.
"What is this place?" I whispered.
Liam's lips curved into a cruel smile. "A playground. For people who don't hide what they want."
My heart slammed against my ribs. Every instinct screamed to turn back, to run. But his hand tightened on mine, grounding me, claiming me.
"Don't be afraid," he said. "I'll guide you."
He led me deeper, past the stares, into a private room. The door shut, muting the music, and suddenly it was just us.
And him.
I barely had time to breathe before he pressed me against the wall, his mouth crashing onto mine. It was brutal, demanding, tongue sliding deep until I whimpered.
"This is where you'll learn," he growled. "Tonight, you won't pretend you don't want me. Tonight, you'll surrender."
My knees buckled, but he held me up, one hand gripping my waist, the other sliding down my thigh, pushing up my skirt. His fingers teased the thin lace between my legs, pressing, stroking, until I was gasping.
"Liam—"
"Say it." His breath scorched my ear. "Say you're mine."
My pride fought it. My lips refused. Until his fingers slipped under the lace and inside me.
I broke. "I'm yours."
"Louder."
"I'm yours!"
And then the world disappeared.
He tore the lace aside, lifting me effortlessly, pressing me against the wall as he thrust inside me. The stretch, the burn, the sheer force of him stole my breath. My cries echoed in the dark room, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer.
He didn't let me breathe. Didn't let me think. His pace was merciless, his grip bruising. My body wasn't my own anymore. It was his instrument, his possession, and he played me until I was screaming.
"You belong to me," he snarled, slamming deeper. "Say it until you believe it."
"I—ah—Liam—" My head fell back, vision blurring. "I belong to you!"
And then I shattered.
It wasn't just release. It was destruction. He dragged it out of me, wave after wave until I was limp in his arms. But he didn't stop. He carried me to the velvet couch, laying me down only to take me again, rougher, darker, as if he couldn't get enough.
Time dissolved. My body was fire. My voice was gone.
And still, I craved more.
Liam's POV
I had waited for this.
Every touch in the office, every stolen kiss, every tremble of her body when I pushed her boundaries — it was all leading here. To tonight.
Alicia Blake thought she could resist me. She thought she could play the part of a good little assistant, keeping her desire buried under prim skirts and polite smiles.
But tonight, I was breaking her.
The club was my hunting ground. A place where men like me shed the chains of civility. Where I didn't have to pretend to be the respectable CEO. Here, I could be exactly who I was.
And Alicia… she was mine to initiate.
The moment I pushed her against the wall and felt her body yield, I knew she was lost. She cried out my name, begged, pleaded, and each sound only drove me harder.
Her lips were swollen, her skin slick, her body clinging to me with desperation. I thrust into her like I owned her, because I did. She didn't know it yet, but she was already marked.
"I belong to you!" she screamed, broken, breathless.
Those words. God, those words.
I wanted to carve them into her skin. I wanted to hear them every night, every morning, until they were the only truth she knew.
When she shattered in my arms, I didn't stop. I couldn't. I laid her down and took her again, my hunger insatiable. Each cry, each arch of her back, each desperate grip of her nails against my skin only fed the beast inside me.
She was perfect. Too perfect. And that was dangerous.
Because Alicia wasn't supposed to matter. She was supposed to be another conquest, another flame to burn through.
But as I looked down at her, her hair fanned out against the velvet, her lips parted, her eyes glazed with surrender, I realized something chilling.
She wasn't just a woman I owned for the night.
She was the woman who could own me.
And I hated it.
I kissed her again, slower this time, almost tender. My hand cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.
"You're mine," I whispered, softer but deadlier. "And you'll never escape me."
Her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion claiming her. She didn't answer. She didn't need to.
Because her body had already answered for her.
And I wasn't letting her go.