"You're here," I breathed.
"I am." His lips curved slightly. "Funnily enough, it wasn't difficult to break into this place."
I pressed my lips together, my hands fisted at my sides as the memories surged, sharp and disorienting. He's my husband. I was married to him. In love.
"I imagine he's on the other side of the city by now," Alexandre continued, his tone darkly amused. "Counting his losses. Trying to work out where the explosion came from."
I didn't answer. I was already moving toward him, my feet carrying me forward before my mind could even catch up.
I stopped with barely an inch between us.
Close enough to feel the heat of him, infuriatingly solid, undeniably real. My hands curled deeper at my sides, nails biting into my palms as the relief I had been holding back twisted into something sharp and volatile.
Anger surged, hot and sudden.
He was alive. He had let the world believe I had killed him. Even when, deep down, I would've never believed it myself.
He had returned me to my family the moment it suited him, like I was some chess piece he was sliding back across the board. These men are all the same. So certain that they knew me better than myself, giving me their illusions of choice whilst carving my path without my consent.
The rage didn't just explode. It settled. Cold and dangerous.
His brows furrowed, confused. His lips parted, already about to shape my name.
But I didn't let him.
My hand moved before thought could intervene. The crack of my palm against his cheek slicing through the space between us. His head snapping to the side. The sound sharp and undeniable, echoing with everything I hadn't said.
"What the f—"
I grabbed him by the lapel of his suit and kissed him. My fingers digging into the rough fabric as I yanked him toward me. The kiss was fierce, almost violent. My mouth claiming his with a hunger that burned hotter than anger alone.
It wasn't just fury. It was a violent rush of need and relief, a storm of all the things we never dared to say. I hated how my body easily surrendered to him, how it recognized him without permission, even when my mind wanted to deny everything he had ever done.
He groaned against my mouth, low and broken, before his hand slid around my waist, gripping me hard like he was afraid I would vanish if he didn't hold me hard enough. The kiss turned hungry, reckless. Furious. All teeth and breath and the unspoken truth of how much we had missed each other.
I wound my arms around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left for us to breathe. He lifted my legs, and without thinking, I wrapped them around his waist. His hold tightened against mine, the hard length between his legs pressing against my entrance.
Desperation surged through me. The world narrowing to the heat between us and the way his mouth spoke everything his words never could. Both brutally and tenderly at the same time.
"What are you playing at?" he breathed, my back crashing against the edges of the bed. He hovered above me, one hand clenched tightly around my neck, the other pinning my wrists above my head. My thighs still clenched around his waist, pulling him closer.
"Nothing," I gasped, struggling to steady my breath. "What are you playing at?"
His grip on my neck loosened, sliding down the strap of my dress, tugging it slowly off my shoulder. My breath caught. His hand squeezing my breast with possessive force.
"Many things," he murmured against my skin, his voice low and fierce, sending electric shivers down my spine. "But right now, it's you."
I twisted sharply, using the momentum against him. His grip faltered for just a moment, enough for me to slip free. With a fierce push, I flipped him over, making him land heavily on his back on the bed.
"I'm not yours to play with," I hissed, my fingers fumbling to unbutton his trousers before pulling them down.
His eyes locked onto mine, glowing with a tenderness that caught me off guard. His hand shot up to cup my cheek, a touch so soft it made me freeze. I gripped his wrist tightly, letting his steady pulse beneath my fingers ground me.
"You remembered," he said it as if it were something miraculous.
"You knew," I breathed, the truth sinking in deep.
Before I could fully process it, he spun me around, pinning my wrists above my head. His other hand slid beneath my skirt, hiking it higher. There was something dark and possessive in his green eyes, but it didn't scare me. Instead, a thrilling heat surged through me, undeniably raw.
"So what if I did?" he whispered into my ear, his voice sharp and menacing as he ground his hips against mine. Taunting me.
I gasped when his mouth closed over my breast, licking and sucking the exposed skin like he couldn't hold it anymore. He released my wrists, knowing I wouldn't fight back and slid the other strap down my shoulder. His hand closing around my other breast, squeezing possessively.
"Fuck," I breathed, trembling. "I should hate you."
"You can't," he bit out. "And you won't."
He pulled down my panties, spread my legs and drove into me all at once, raw and relentless.
My breath hitched, my back arched instinctively. I couldn't believe this was real, but it was. I could feel every inch of him stretching inside me. The way my body bloomed beneath his touch, coming alive in ways I hadn't felt before. I couldn't even fight this feeling anymore.
I miss him.
My hands gripped his shoulders, holding on tight as he moved. Slow, deliberate at first, as if he was savoring the way he was filling me, stretching me. Claiming me completely.
"You can never hate me, Lila," he murmured, and the sound of my name sent a shiver through me, tightening my muscles beneath him. "You loved me once, and you'll love me again."
"I won't make the same mistake again," I hissed, my voice low and fierce.
He didn't even slow. If anything, he plunged deeper, faster. I gripped the sheets beside me, nails digging in as his hands locked around my hips, driving into me harder, relentless.
"You're mine," he growled, breath hot against my ear. "I'll have you anyway I can. Mark my words, Lila. Everything I do, every game I play, is for you."
"I am not her," I gasped weakly, my voice breaking, raw with need.
His pace became a fierce storm, every thrust stretching and filling me, pulling me tighter to the edge. The heat between us became unbearable, every inch of my body alive with fire and want.
"I don't give a shit," he demanded, his voice thick with possession. "You're mine."
"Get off me!" I shouted, my legs twisting, trying to push him away even as he kept thrusting deep inside me. Even when my body was still lost in his fierce, consuming rhythm.
He flipped me onto my stomach before I could. His grip tightening on my waist as he fucked me harder. Much more relentless.
Still, I had to fight him. He was in love with the version of me that never came back. And never will. I was just what was left behind, wearing her face.
His grip tightened around my waist, bringing me back to the present. One hand sliding up to my neck, pressing it firmly against him, even as he thrusted in and out of me. His lips brushed my ear, his voice rough but laced with something tender as he whispered, "You belong to me. Your body. Your soul. Even the fucking empire you're set to inherit."
"No..." I breathed, my voice breaking, vision blurring as tears spilled down my cheeks. His eyes widened then, like he didn't think I could break down like this.
He loosened his hold on my neck but didn't relent. He just continued on driving into me again and again. Harder and deeper, relentless in his claim.
My hands fisted onto the mattress, then buried my face into the soft sheets, tears falling freely as waves of raw sensation crashed through me. Sharp and fierce, overwhelming all at once. Every thrust ignited a fire inside me. Stretching me, filling me, breaking me open completely.
The pain twisted with pleasure. A fierce ache that made my breath hitch and my body trembling on edge. My muscles clenched, trembling with need, until I finally shattered, folding into him gasping, lost in this storm of feeling.
He followed soon after, coming deep inside me, hot and powerful, grounding us both in this raw, chaotic moment.