Alethea

He slams my back against the snooker table, and only then do I realize just how far I've drifted from the pole.

But I don't care. I've been lost in the pleasure, to notice anything else.

"Ally, you're mine," he growls, with possession, the intensity of his words sends a deep, aching throb through me.

I can't speak. I can only nod, too stunned to find my voice.

With one swift motion, he yanks my gown down, as the fabric pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His dark, heated gaze sweeps over my body, gleaming with raw hunger.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice...