Thirteen Years of Obsession

Wedding night

My back was still pressed against the cold penthouse door, heart slamming so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Lucian stood only a few feet away, slowly unbuttoning the rest of his black dress shirt. Each button revealed more hard, sculpted muscle, the faint scar on his left eyebrow catching the low light. His storm-gray eyes burned with pure, unfiltered obsession as he stared at me like I was the only thing left in his world.

“Thirteen years?” The words tumbled out of me, shaky and raw. “What the hell do you mean by thirteen years, Lucian?”

He paused, shirt hanging open, revealing the powerful lines of his chest and abs. A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Those eyes looked… haunted.

“Later,” he said, voice low and rough. “Right now, I want my wife naked and spread out on my bed like I’ve imagined every single night since I first saw you.”

He took one step closer.

I pressed harder against the door, the cool wood doing nothing to calm the fire racing through my veins. My wedding dress suddenly felt too tight, too exposing. My core still throbbed from the way his fingers had teased me in the elevator, leaving me wet and aching and furious at my own body.

“No,” I whispered, even as heat pooled between my thighs. “You don’t get to drop something like that and then demand I strip for you. Tell me what thirteen years means. Tell me why you’ve been watching me since I was practically a child.”

Lucian’s jaw tightened. For a split second, something almost like pain flashed across his face. Then the mask of control slammed back into place. He closed the distance in two long strides, caging me against the door with his arms on either side of my head.

His body heat engulfed me. The thick bulge in his pants pressed against my stomach, hard and insistent.

“Because I’ve wanted to own you for thirteen f*****g years, Seraphina,” he growled, voice dark and possessive. “Because your father destroyed my family, and I swore I’d destroy his by taking the one thing he loved most — you. I planned every second of this. The contract. The forced proximity. Making you fall for the man who would ruin him.”

My stomach dropped. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

“And now?” I breathed, voice cracking. “Now that I’m your wife, now that you’ve got me trapped… what happens when the year is up?”

His hand slid up my thigh through the high slit of the dress, fingers brushing the edge of my soaked panties again. He pushed the lace aside and stroked two thick fingers through my slick folds, finding me embarrassingly wet.

“Now,” he murmured, circling my swollen c**t with maddening pressure, “I can’t let you go. Because somewhere between planning your destruction and tasting how sweet you are when you moan my name, I became completely f*****g obsessed with you.”

I gasped as he pushed one finger inside me, then two, stretching me slowly while his thumb worked my c**t. My hips jerked against his hand despite myself. Pleasure shot through me so sharp it bordered on pain.

“Lucian…” It came out as a broken moan.

“That’s right,” he growled against my ear, pumping his fingers deeper, curling them against that spot that made my vision blur. “Say my name while I finger-f**k my wife on our wedding night. You’re so tight, so wet for me. This p***y was made to take my cock.”

I was trembling, thighs shaking, so close to the edge already. My hands fisted in his open shirt, pulling him closer even as my mind screamed that this man had planned my ruin for over a decade.

He leaned in and bit my lower lip hard enough to sting. “Come for me, little wife. Come on my fingers like the good slut I know you can be.”

The filthy words pushed me over. My orgasm crashed through me hard and fast, my walls clenching around his fingers as I cried out his name. Waves of pleasure ripped through my body while he watched my face with dark, possessive hunger.

I was still shaking, coming down from the high, when he slowly withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean with a low groan.

“Delicious,” he murmured. “But that was only the beginning.”

He stepped back just enough to shrug off his shirt completely, revealing his perfect, powerful torso. Then his hands went to his belt.

“Take off the dress, Seraphina. Now. Or I’ll rip it off you myself.”

My fingers trembled as I reached for the zipper at my side. Part of me wanted to run. Part of me — the dark, traitorous part — wanted to see how far this obsession would go.

The dress pooled at my feet, leaving me in nothing but the diamond necklace, earrings, and my soaked white lace panties.

Lucian’s eyes darkened to near black as he drank in the sight of me.

“f**k,” he breathed, voice hoarse. “Even better than every fantasy I had over the last thirteen years.”

He moved like a predator, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me toward the massive black bed. He laid me down on the cool sheets and crawled over me, caging me with his body.

His mouth crashed down on mine in a brutal, claiming kiss. His hand slid between my legs again, pushing my panties aside as he freed his thick, hard c**k from his pants.

The heavy length pressed against my entrance, hot and intimidating.

“Tell me you want this,” he rasped against my lips, rubbing the thick head through my slickness. “Tell your husband you need his c**k tonight.”

I was dizzy with lust and fear and the overwhelming weight of his confession. My body was screaming yes. My heart was screaming danger.

Before I could answer, his phone rang sharply from the nightstand.

He ignored it at first, pressing the tip of his c**k against my entrance, ready to thrust inside.

The phone rang again. Then again.

With a vicious curse, Lucian reached over and snatched it.

Isabella’s name flashed on the screen.

He answered on speaker, voice cold as ice.

“What?”

Isabella’s voice came through, sweet but dripping with venom.

“Congratulations on the wedding, darling. I just thought you should know — I’ve sent a little gift to the press. All those old photos of you watching Seraphina over the years. The ones from when she was still in college. They’re trending already. ‘Billionaire Stalker Bride’ is the top headline.”

Lucian’s entire body went rigid above me.

My blood ran cold.

He looked down at me, eyes wild with a mix of rage and raw obsession.

“Stay right here,” he ordered, voice dangerous. “Don’t move.”

He climbed off the bed, still half-naked, c**k straining, and stormed toward his study, phone in hand.

I lay there on the wedding bed, dress discarded, body still buzzing from the orgasm he’d forced from me, heart shattered by his confession.

Thirteen years of being watched.

Thirteen years of being his planned revenge.

And now the whole world was about to find out.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, suddenly terrified of the secret I didn’t even know I was carrying yet.

As Lucian’s angry voice echoed from the other room, one thought burned in my mind:

How was I supposed to survive a man who had obsessed over destroying me for over a decade… when a terrifying part of me was already addicted to the way he touched me?