Chapter 2

Alessia

I move closer, trying to get a clearer look at him, but it's too dark to see him properly. The dim lighting shifts patterns across his face, making him partially hidden.

I shake off the drowsiness clouding my mind and take a few steps forward. There is an empty chair across him, so without thinking, I slump into it, my limbs heavy from the alcohol.

Slowly, he lifts his head.

Our gazes lock, and my breath catches in my throat. 

He studies me like he's trying to piece something together.

He has a deep, jagged scar from beneath his left eye down to just under his ear. Instead of making him look rough, it only adds to his untamed, dangerous sex appeal.

My eyes drift lower, settling on his neck. There is a dragon tattoo.

The moment I see it, my body tenses.

He's breathtakingly mysterious, dark, and dangerously sexy. Every inch of him radiates strength, from his broad shoulders to the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt.

There's something raw and powerful about him, something that sends desire down to my clit.

I swallow hard.

My gaze remains fixed on his onyx eyes, so dark they seem to blend into the shadows.

But there's something eerily familiar about them. I narrow my eyes.

A certain family carries this unique trait.

"Are you from the Amalfi Coast?" My words come out slurred as I lean closer, my face moving dangerously near his.

His expression remains unreadable.

Onyx eyes are the symbol of a powerful bloodline from the Amalfi Coast in Campania. And that's exactly where my father has arranged for me to be married in two days.

His gaze drops slowly, deliberately, from my lips to my heaving chest. It lingers at my neck before meeting my eyes again.

Heat flares in my belly, spreading through me like wildfire. I stiffen, my pulse racing beneath his stare.

Why do I feel this electrifying pull toward a stranger?

"You shouldn't be here," his deep baritone voice sends a pool of desire down my cunt, making me shudder.

"But I'm curious... Why do you care, young lady?" His penetrating gaze locks onto mine, studying me.

Why does he feel so familiar?

"Have we met before?" My vision blurs again, the alcohol clouding my senses. I shake my head, trying to clear it, but only make the room tilt.

"You should go home," he murmurs.

He leans in slightly, his warm breath fanning across my cheek.

I gulp. My stomach twists into knots, and my throat feels tight, like something is lodged there. Yet I can't look away from him.

Something about his eyes keeps me frozen in place. He's intimidating—not just because of the way his muscles flex beneath his black shirt, but because of the way he watches me.

His lips twitch into a smirk, revealing full, sinful lips. My heart slams against my ribs. He looks like temptation itself, like a god carved from sin.

Then he rises to his feet. His presence is overwhelming.

He takes a step toward me, and my eyes roam over his body—his strong, built frame, the veins pulsing in his arms, and the way his black shirt clings to his sculpted chest.

I flush crimson as an image flashes through my mind.

His body against mine,tangled beneath the sheets In heat.

No, I shake my head, trying to banish the thought.

I shouldn't be thinking about this, not with a stranger.

But then he takes another step closer.

I stop breathing.

My hand moves on its own, pressing against his solid chest to create some space between us.

It doesn't help. If anything, the contact makes everything worse, his body is warm beneath my touch.

His lips hover dangerously close to mine, then, with a single finger, he brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek, his touch is featherlight.

A shock of pleasure shoots through me, tingling from my neck down to my toes.

My knees go weak, turning to jelly.

The alcohol must be messing with my brain.

"Why are you here?" His voice is almost a whisper, as his fingers trail down my cheek, tracing the curve of my jaw with a slow touch.

"I... I don't..." My voice is tangled in a haze of alcohol and something far more dangerous.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

"I know what you're thinking," he murmurs, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. "You want me to take you. To make you forget."

I suck in a sharp breath, shaking my head slowly. No.

But even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice.

"Out of all the men in this club, you came to me." He leans in, his breath warm against my lips.

"You want me to make you feel good." His voice is smooth, rich, rugged, and dangerous.

Heat floods my body, and I can't stop myself from nodding.

"Yes," I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

What is wrong with me? This is madness.

My father has arranged my future and chosen a man I have never met to be my husband.

But right now, at this moment, I don't want to think about duty or obligations.

I just want to feel something other than this aching emptiness.

"You want me," he chuckles, his lips hovering just above mine, drawing me in without even touching me.

"Just for tonight," I breathe. "Make me forget."

Without saying a word, he lifts me effortlessly into his arms.

Instinctively, my hands move around his neck, my head resting against his chest.

A shiver runs through me as warmth radiates from his body. His smoky, intoxicating scent wraps around me like a spell.

He carries me through the dimly lit hallway and kicks open a door before stepping inside.

Oh God.

What am I doing? My heart hammers against my ribs as he lowers me onto a plush bed.

The room is dark, but his presence fills every inch of it. He studies me with a deep, unreadable gaze.

"Are you sure about this?" His voice is softer now, but still edged with something dangerous.

I lift my eyes to his Onyx black. My gaze drifts to his full, tempting lips.There's something about this man that pulls me in. He carries an air of mystery, a coldness that should make me run, but instead, it makes me want.

He leans closer, his heat pressing against me, his gaze pinning me in place.

"Remember," he murmurs, gripping the back of my head gently, his fingers tangling in my hair. "You asked for this."

Then his lips crash against mine. A shock of pleasure shoots through me as the kiss deepens, urgent and consuming. My mind shuts down, lost in the sensation.

His hands roam, exploring, setting fire to every inch of me. My body responds to him in ways I never imagined possible, every nerve alight with a pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

I gasp against his lips as his fingers skim my back, slowly unzipping my dress.

My skin prickles beneath his touch, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

His palm slides over my body with a firm, claiming grip, my thighs press together as heat pools down my clit.

Then he stills. His lips brush against mine as he whispers, "Do you know who I am?"

His words are like a warning I should heed, but I'm already too far gone.