Rudy didn't want to come off as controlling or overly possessive during public outings, but he couldn't stand how other men eyed you. As you chatted with another guy, Rudy stood out of sight, fists clenched, struggling to calm himself. His hands itched to touch you, to show that man that you were his. The jealousy simmered just beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions he tried desperately to control.

Finally, the moment came when you were alone. The other guy had moved on, and you were standing by yourself, looking around as if searching for someone. Rudy seized the opportunity. He walked up to you with purposeful strides, his eyes locked onto yours. Without a word, he placed his hands on your hips, his touch gentle but firm. His fingers caressed your skin, tracing small, soothing circles.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your neck. "That's the last time you spend time alone with that guy, okay?" His voice was soft, but there was an unmistakable intensity in his tone. He wanted to give you room to disagree, to assert your independence, but he couldn't hide the hope in his eyes that you would comply. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke again, more softly this time.

"You're mine to love." His words were a tender declaration, a mixture of vulnerability and determination. His nose nuzzled against your neck, and his hands slid further around your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the tension in his body, it was clear that he was holding back, trying not to overwhelm you with the depth of his feelings. His need to protect you, to claim you as his own, was battling with his desire to respect your autonomy.