The silence of the room was shattered as the door swung open. Abir walked in, shirtless, his muscular chest and several old scars gleaming in the pale moonlight. He looked like a dark god, raw and powerful.
He didn't say a word. He walked straight to the bed and knelt before Arisa, placing his large, warm hand on her trembling cheek. His touch felt like liquid fire against her cold skin.
"Do you have any idea how hard it was to stay away from you tonight, Arisa?" Abir's voice was a low, intoxicating growl. "Your scent... it's driving me insane."
He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. Arisa could feel his rapid heartbeat, echoing the chaos in her own chest.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Arisa whispered, her breath hitching as his fingers traced her jawline.
"I'm not doing this to you; you've done this to me," Abir murmured, his eyes locking onto her lips. "You destroyed me with those innocent eyes years ago. Now, you are my addiction. My very existence."
He pulled out the diamond-studded choker—a symbol of both luxury and chains. As he fastened it around her neck, his fingertips lingered on the sensitive skin of her nape, sending waves of forbidden pleasure through her body.
"From this moment on, the world will know who you belong to," he hissed, his lips inches from hers. "I will wipe every tear you shed, but I will never let you go. You are mine to protect, mine to worship, and mine to ruin."
He pulled her into his hard chest, his arms wrapping around her like iron bands. Arisa found her hands resting on his bare shoulders, unable to push him away. Abir dipped his head, his teeth grazing the soft skin of her neck in a possessive bite that left a mark—a mark of the devil's claim.
"Tell me, Arisa," he whispered against her skin, "Tell me you are mine."
Arisa couldn't find the words, but her trembling body and the way she held onto him gave him the only answer he needed.
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