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I manage to keep my control intact, but the leash I’ve been keeping my desire on snaps. After crossing the room, I rip the magazine from her hands and toss it onto the floor.

Cora gasps in surprise. “Hey⁠—”

Grabbing her wrist, I haul her to her feet with ease. When I pin both her wrists behind her back, she immediately begins to fight me. Spitting an array of curses that would make most grown men blush, she futilely tries to pull herself from my hold.

“Let me go! I’ll scream!”

“Then scream,” I dare her, my face mere inches from hers. “Scream until your throat is raw, angel. This penthouse is soundproofed. No one will hear you but me.”

Her chest heaves against mine, her breath coming in short gasps that invitingly part her lips. “You’re a bastard,” she breathlessly whispers.

“And you’re a brat,” I snarl. Releasing her wrists and stepping back, I run a hand through my hair as I try to restore some semblance of order to my mind. “Go and get ready.”

“Never.” She quickly lifts her hand and slaps me—hard—the crack of her palm against my cheek echoing through the room as my head snaps to the side from the force of her strike. Her hand flies to her mouth, realizing the gravity of her actions, before sprinting from the room.

“That,” I breathe with a smile splitting my face, “was a mistake, angel.”

Cora makes it to the penthouse door before I catch her, my hands slamming against the wood on both sides of her head, caging her in with my body. Trapped, she spins between my arms to face me until her back is pressed against the unyielding barrier as she stares up at me with wide eyes.

“Let me go,” she demands, her voice trembling. “Let me leave.”

“No.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ve said that countless times, but I think we both know what it is you actually hate.” I lean closer, letting her feel the heat radiating from my body. “You hate how much you want me, craving the very thing you keep pretending to despise.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” I dust one hand down her torso, stopping at her waist and digging my fingertips into the soft flesh above her hip. “Then why is your heart racing? Or your pupils blown wide?” Dipping my head, my lips brush against the shell of her ear. “And, angel, why are you grinding your hips against me?”

She gasps, realizing too late that she is arched into me, her body subconsciously seeking my contact. “You’re an asshole.”

Rubbing my thumb over her trembling lower lip, I murmur, “I have ways of silencing that bratty little foul mouth of yours.”

I crash my lips onto hers. It is a far cry from the chaste kiss of our wedding ceremony or the tender brushes I’ve left over her cheeks after a punishment. Nothing about this is gentle. This is claiming, pure and simple. I take her mouth, forcing her lips apart with my tongue until I can taste her sweet resistance.

Her palms slam against my chest to shove me away, but I don’t budge. My tongue sweeps across hers until she melts, her hands fisting my shirt to pull herself into me and kissing me back with a ferocity that matches my own. I slam her against the door, and she moans the sweet sound of surrender into my mouth as I pin her to it with my weight. My left hand tangles in her hair as the right slips between us to tear at the button of her jeans.

When I break our kiss and nip at her throat, she gasps. “Roma⁠—”

“Daddy,” I growl, yanking down her zipper and shoving my hand into her panties. She’s soaking wet; my fingers slide through her pussy easily. Her clit is swollen, and the keening broken whimper that falls over her lips when my fingertips brush over it goes straight to my cock. I work her roughly, circling the tight bundle of nerves with the intent of a man who has spent months imagining what it would be like to have Cora Ashford finally fall apart at my hand.

“Fuck,” I breathe against her neck. “Do you feel that? You’re so wet that you’re dripping, angel. Is it the fighting that does this to you? Or knowing that you’re finally giving me what I want?”

“Neither… I…” She shakes her head as her hips buck against my hand.

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you lie.” I push two fingers deep inside her, curling them against the spongy part of her walls until she’s crying out with pleasure and her head falls back against the door. “It’s both. You love to fight me, knowing that I’ll win.”

I work her hard and fast, my thumb circling her clit while I pump my fingers in and out of her tight pussy. Her breath grows ragged, and she grips my shoulders as her body hurtles toward the edge with desperate speed.

“Please.”

“Please what?” I slow my movements, keeping her on the precipice.

“Please… Don’t stop…”

“Not good enough.” I withdraw my fingers slightly, and she clenches around them. “Say it properly.”