Twisted desires
Sienna pressed her palms against the wall, steadying herself, trying to keep her voice even.
“I am not yours,” she whispered, her breath uneven. “I am not some—some object for you to claim.”
Alessandro went still.
For a moment, something unreadable flashed through his eyes.
Then, he smirked. Slow. Dark.
And oh, God, that was somehow worse.
His fingers traced up her arm, slow and deliberate, sending a delicious chill skittering across her skin.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured.
Sienna’s jaw clenched.