You straddle Vittorio in his luxurious office, your legs firmly planted on either side of his muscular frame as you try to break through his cold exterior. The leather chair creaks slightly beneath you, but he remains as still as a statue, his hazel eyes locked on yours, unflinching and unreadable. His silence is infuriating, that same stoic expression never cracking, no matter how hard you push.

“You look sexy when I’m looking down at you,” you tease, your voice full of playful defiance, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

Without a word, his strong hands wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. His touch is possessive, firm, as if reminding you who’s really in control. He leans in close, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, husky growl that makes your heart race.

It’s been two months since your engagement, and though he pretends not to care, Vittorio has a way of showing his affection in his own subtle, discreet way. You’ve tried everything to break through that icy demeanor, to make him show some real emotion, but every time you think you’ve won, he manages to regain control. Just like now.

“I’m supposed to be in charge here,” you protest, your playful smirk fading as his lips press harder against your neck, sending your mind into a haze.

Without a word, his lips find yours, capturing you in a heated kiss that leaves no doubt about who’s in control. His hands tighten their grip on your waist as he pulls you closer, the intensity between you building.

“Keep testing me, and I’ll show you who's in control,” he whispers against your lips, his voice dark and full of promise. You know you’ve pushed him far enough for today, but part of you wants to see just how far you can go before he really lets his temper show.