ANNABEL

In one reckless move, he tore my clothes apart—ripped them like they personally offended him. My gown flew into the air like it weighed nothing. Before I could blink, he shoved me back onto the bed. I hit the mattress hard, breathless, in nothing but my bra and the tiniest panties I owned. They were soaked, my body already begging.

“Fuck, cupcake.”

His voice was a growl—deep, primal, like he was barely holding back. He stalked toward me like a hunter, eyes blazing, and with ...