(Roselle Vasilyev's POV)
Samuel carried onto the balcony, gently placing my bare body onto the outdoor bed.
The morning air was cold, brushing against our heated skin, sending a thrilling shiver down my spine.
I looked up at him—his erald eyes dark with desire, a seductive smirk playing on his lips.
My heart pounded violently.
"Damn you, bastard—Ahhhh!!!"
Before I could finish my sentence, his head was already between my legs.
A sharp gasp tore from my lips as his tongue and fingers worked their magic, making lose all control.
"Ahhhh!!"
Every shaless moan escaping my mouth only made the sensation more intoxicating.
And at that mont, all I could do was surrender to the pleasure he was giving .
I released myself again, my moans shalessly loud, my voice dripping with raw pleasure.
"Ahhhhhhh!!!! Incredible!!!"
Before I could recover, he suddenly turned around, shifting into a position I wasn't expecting.
Then—he entered .
My eyes widened in shock.
"Ah! Ahhh!!!! You bastard!!!" I cried out, gripping the sheets beneath .
He leaned in, his hot breath teasing my ear as he whispered,
"Oops... wrong entrance."
A shudder ran through , and I cursed under my breath.
This damn man...
I glared at him, breathless, my body trembling.
"You bastard!!! You did that on purpose, didn't you?!"
But he only smirked, his erald eyes filled with mischief, and instead of answering—
He thrust deeper.
"Ahhhh!!!" A loud, shaless moan escaped as my body betrayed , overwheld by the sensation.
I gripped the sheets, struggling to form words, but all I could do was moan as he moved faster and deeper.
Then, he leaned in again, his breath hot against my ear, his voice a low, teasing whisper—
"Want to pull it out?"
I turned my head slightly, catching a glimpse of his perfect face, his sharp erald eyes gleaming with amusent.
Damn him.
I wanted Abigail Bardot to see this.
To see the way he looked at .
To see how he adored .
To see that she lost the best man in existence.
I smirked, gripping the sheets tighter as I gasped, "Don't you dare!"
His chuckle was dark, teasing. "Oh? You're that desperate for , Roselle?"
I clenched my jaw. "Until I'm fully satisfied, you're not cumming anywhere."
If he thought I'd just submit, he was wrong.
I was Roselle Vasilyev.
The Queen of the Mafia. The Lord of Darkness.
And I would make sure we devoured each other completely.
He let out a deep groan, pressing his chest against my back, his arms wrapping around my waist.
The feeling of his hard, sculpted muscles against sent shivers through my entire body.
And then—
I felt it.
His two heartbeats.
A rhythmic, powerful thumping against my skin.
It was insane. Overwhelming. Addicting.
"Damn you, Samuel..." I gasped, arching my back against him.
His lips grazed my ear as he whispered, "You're trembling, Roselle. You love this, don't you?"
I bit my lip, refusing to answer.
But we both knew the truth.
And I would make sure he knew just how much I wanted more.
Then he slamd into harder, his movents becoming faster, rougher, completely relentless.
I could feel him ravaging my insides, stretching in a way that made my body tremble with pleasure.
"Ahhh! Ahh!!! Don't stop—I'm gonna cum!!!"
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke in that low, seductive tone that sent shivers through .
"Sa here... Let's feel it together, my Queen."
"Ahhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!!!"
And then—pure ecstasy.
I felt it. All of it.
It was **so perfect, so right—**as if our bodies were made only for each other.
As the pleasure finally subsided, he lay beside , pulling into his arms.
His embrace was warm, strong, unyielding.
The kind of safety and comfort that no one else could ever give .
And as I nestled into his hold, I realized—
His touch was the only thing that could make soft.
A few hours later, the warmth of the morning sun touched my skin as I slowly opened my eyes.
The crisp Moscow air brushed against my bare body, and I shifted slightly, feeling the weight of a strong arm wrapped around my waist.
Samuel.
I turned my head slightly, my athyst eyes landing on his peaceful, sleeping face.
His dark hair was slightly ssy, his sharp features relaxed, and for once, he looked almost... calm.
"Tch. Even in sleep, he looks perfect." I muttered under my breath.
I tried to move, but the mont I did, his grip tightened around .
Without even opening his eyes, he smirked. "Trying to run, my Queen?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I need a shower."
He finally opened his erald eyes, filled with that familiar amusent. "Need so help?"
I scoffed. "The last ti you 'helped' , we ended up breaking a bed."
He chuckled. "And the second one, too."
My cheeks burned slightly, but I quickly covered it up with a smirk of my own. "Then let's see if you can survive round three."
His grin widened as he pulled back onto his chest. "Careful, Roselle. You might just make fall for you."
I smirked, leaning down, whispering against his lips.
"Good. Because you already belong to ."
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