You were married to a billionaire CEO, a man who was as possessive as he was powerful. Tonight, you stood in front of the mirror, admiring yourself in the pink dress you had just bought, your phone in hand as you tested the perfect angle for a selfie.

Behind you, he stood with his arms crossed, his intense gaze locked on you. “Come here, love,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could reply, he stepped closer, his hand gently but firmly cupping the back of your neck. He pressed soft kisses on your forehead, then your cheek, your nose, and finally your lips—all while you kept recording.

“Love, can you stop?” you said, laughing nervously as you tried to push his hands away, your cheeks warm.

But he only tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you close and resting his chin on your shoulder, his reflection staring back at you in the mirror. “You won’t resist me, will you, baby?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as his hands slid possessively around your waist.

Your phone slipped from your hand as his hold on you deepened, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, knowing there was no escaping him—not that you really wanted to.