PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT

The parchment crinkled under Mattheo's fingers, his grip tight, shaking, lethal. The candlelight flickered wildly, shadows dancing across his sharp jaw, his furrowed brows, his parted lips as he reread each damn line.

His breathing was slow. Too slow. The kind of slow that came before a storm.

His mind reeled, the words wrapping around his throat, sinking into his skin, marking him. The way she wrote about him—his hands, his mouth, his touch, his claim. No hesitation. No fear. Just devotion. Just need. Just her.

His grip tightened until the paper nearly tore.

And then... he let out a breathless, humorless chuckle.

Low. Rough. Dark.

"You," he murmured, his voice like smoke and sin, lifting his gaze to meet hers.

Y/N stood there, arms crossed, head high, eyes blazing. She had expected this reaction. Planned for it.

She had written those words and handed them to him on purpose.

And now she was standing there, watching him unravel.

Mattheo tilted his head, his dark curls falling into his face as he exhaled sharply through his nose. His smirk was slow, dangerous, intoxicating.

"You have no fucking idea what you just did," he said, voice dropping an octave lower, his tone filled with something lethal.

Y/N smirked. Defiant. Unbothered. Reckless. "No?"

His laugh was low, wicked, full of warning. "Oh, darling..."

And then—he moved.

Fast. Too fast.

One second, he was standing across the room. The next—

Her back hit the wall.

A gasp tore from her lips, but Mattheo was right there, right in front of her, chest pressed against hers, breath hot on her lips. His hands braced against the stone, caging her in, trapping her.

"You think you can just write something like that," he rasped, his voice thick with heat, with need, with possession, "and I won't fucking lose it?"

Y/N lifted her chin, bold, daring. "I was hoping you would."

A growl rumbled in his throat, his fingers curling around her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. His dark, wicked, burning eyes.

His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, slow, deliberate. "You're playing a dangerous game, love."

She smirked. "I'm not scared of losing."

His breath hitched. His restraint snapped.

Then his lips crashed against hers.

The kiss was fire. Brutal. Desperate. Unhinged. His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into her skin, pulling her closer, claiming, owning, consuming.

She gasped against his mouth, but he only kissed her harder.

Teeth. Tongue. Hunger.

His hands traveled lower. One wrapped around the back of her thigh, hiking it up against his hip as he pressed her deeper into the wall, into him, into the heat, into the need.

"Fuck," he growled against her lips, his hands wandering, gripping, demanding.

Y/N's nails raked down his back, dragging him closer.

"Mattheo," she whispered, her breath hot, needy.

That did it.

That fucking did it.

His forehead fell against hers, his breathing ragged, uneven, his restraint slipping further with every single second.

"Say it again," he commanded, his voice low, dark, dangerous. His lips hovered over hers, so close, but not close enough.

Y/N smirked. Defiant as ever. "Make me."

Mattheo groaned, deep and rough, his grip on her tightening.

"Oh, you're going to fucking regret that, princess," he muttered, dragging his lips down her throat, teeth grazing, tongue teasing.

Y/N arched against him, her breath hitching. "I doubt it."

His chuckle was sinful. "You should be careful what you wish for."

Then his hands were everywhere.

Rough. Desperate. Worshipping.

Fingers gripping, teasing, taking.

Lips marking, biting, owning.

His name fell from her lips again, breathless, wrecked.

And Mattheo? He lost his fucking mind.

He pinned her to the bed, looming over her, gaze dark, hungry, feral. His fingers traced down her stomach, his touch featherlight, torturous.

"You think you can drive me insane with your words, princess?" he murmured, his smirk dripping with sin and promise. "Now it's my turn."

Y/N's breath hitched, her lips parting slightly. Challenging. Daring. Tempting.

Mattheo grinned, wicked and wild. "I hope you weren't planning on getting any sleep tonight."

And then—

He ruined her.

Over. And over. And over again.

By the time the sun rose, Y/N couldn't even remember her own damn name.

All she knew?

She belonged to him.

And he belonged to her.