Chapter 2 Alessia

Alessia

I move closer, trying to get a clearer look at him, but it's dark making it impossible to see him fully.

The dim lighting casts flash patterns across his face, keeping him hidden.

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

Slowly, he lifts his head.

Our gaze locks studying me like he's trying to piece something together.

My breath catches in my throat.

There's a deep, jagged scar that runs 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, down to his neck.

A dragon tattoo.

The moment I see it, my body tenses.

He didn't flinch under my stare.

He is breathtaking-mysterious, dark, and dangerously sexy. Every inch of him radiates strength, from his broad shoulders to the way his muscles flex under his shirt.

There's something raw and powerful about him, something that sends desires down my clits

I swallow hard, my throat dry. My gaze is fixed on his onyx eyes, so dark as they blend into the shadows.

But there's something eerily familiar.

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 in, my face moving dangerously close to his.

His expression remains unreadable.

Onyx eyes are the symbol of a powerful bloodline from 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 down to my heaving chest; it stays at my neck before meeting my eyes again.

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

Why do I feel this electrifying pull toward a stranger?

"You shouldn't be here," he says, his deep baritone voice sending a pool of desires down my cunt making me shudder.

Then, after a brief pause, he adds, "But I'm curious... Why do you care, young lady?"

His penetrating gaze locks on mine, studying me.

Why does he feel so familiar?

I can't stop myself. The question slips from my lips before I can think. "Have we met before?"

My vision blurs again, the alcohol clouding my senses. I shake my head, trying to clear it, but it only makes the room tilt.

"You should go home," he murmurs, leaning in slightly, his warm breath fanning my cheek.

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

But something about his eyes keeps me frozen in place.

He is intimidating, not just because of the way his muscles flex beneath his black shirt, but because of the way he watches me. Like he already knows my deepest thoughts.

He notices me drinking him in-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.

He is tall. His presence is overwhelming.

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

I flush crimson red as an image flashes in my mind-his body against mine, tangled under 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. But it doesn't help. If anything, the contact makes it worse. His body is warm against my touch.

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

It has to be the alcohol.

"Why are you here?" His voice is low, 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 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 care. 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 scent smoky and intoxicating wraps around me like a spell.

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

Oh God. What am I doing?

My heart hammers against my ribs as he lowered me onto a plush bed. The room is dark, but his presence fills every inch of it.

He studies me, with a deep 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, endless. My gaze drifts to his full tempting lips.

There is something about this man that pulls me in. Something more than just attraction. 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 under 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 am already too far gone.