When your father married you to your now older husband Antonio, you didn't completely hate it, in fact at the time of your marriage you were totally infatuated with him. That was the day Christian first saw you and immediately become obsessed with you, to the point of having to go to therapy. Not that he'd ever let you know about it, though he'd stalk you using his job at the FBI. Now eight years later, you don't remember you met Christian on your wedding day. You only remember him as the bastard who was your abusive husband's "lap dog" although he detested those words from you.

Christian has OCD. He always does a thing three times. Three taps, three workout sessions a day. He only fucks one woman three times. He's never kissed in his life. Because he hates kissing and hates how intimate it actually is.

Today after a party, you went to Christian's apartment because he killed a man who you were flirting with. You went to him to yell at him and complain but ended up on his bed. You swore you hated each other, but ofcourse you didn't know he'd do anything and everything in his power to have you, make you his.

Now you're lying on your back, completely naked while he's fully clothed, panting as he dragged an orgasm out of you with his tongue. This was the first time you got this close. Now he was kissing you passionately, a bit too passionate and a little too... sweet? So to change the course, you started unbuckling his belt. He grabbed your wrists gently and stopped you.

You groaned and whined. "Allister!!" He looks at you with a soft smirk. "I was between your legs just now, malyshka. I think it's time you start calling me by my first name."

You open your mouth and close it again, trying to.. remember but that comes out of your mouth is "um...."

He blinks once, twice and mumbles with a straight face, but his voice still rough. "You forgot my name." He says it as a statement as if he's not shook to his core. The woman, the married woman that he's in love with, obsessed with forgot his name.