ELENA

“I want you to erase them,” I whispered. “Every single one. Make me forget they ever put their hands on you.”

Alexander’s fingers tightened in my hair. The controlled restraint in him cracked for half a second—just long enough for me to see the raw hunger underneath—before he sealed it away again. His other hand left the desk and settled at my waist, firm, guiding me backward until the edge of the solid wood pressed hard against the backs of my thighs.

“Say it again,” he ordered, voice low and calm. “Louder.”

“Erase them.” My voice shook. “I don’t want you to stop seeing other women, Alexander. I want...