Page 63 of Take Me Darkly

Through the wall, the couple next door reached their climax—a brief, vocal crescendo that filled the ambient space before settling into heavy, satisfied breathing. Serena went still beneath me, her eyes opening, listening to the fading echoes.

She turned her head toward the wall, the color deepening on her cheeks, but she didn’t close her eyes. Further down the corridor, another low, rhythmic sound echoed through the stone—a man’s deep, guttural groan. The building was vibrating with raw indulgence, the current flowing directly through the walls.

Serena let out a long, shuddering exhale. Her posture softened completely—open, breathless, and entirely undone by the sensory overload.

“Be reckless, princess,” I rasped, dropping my mouth to her chest. “Be reckless with me.”

My hands cupped her bare breasts, my thumbs slowly rolling her tight nipples until she arched wildly off the bed.

“Yes,” she panted, her fingers tangling in my hair. “Touch me.”

I drew one peak into my mouth, suckling hard, feeling her body writhe beneath mine.

Through the wall, another couple began a slow, rhythmic progression, their passion building without shame. The sounds layered over the deep bass of the club, making the room itself feel alive. Serena’s hips were moving in an involuntary rhythm, chasing the friction.

“Is it always like this?” she panted. “In the club?”

“No,” I admitted against her skin. “Tonight is different.”

Because despite spending years commanding this building, I had never experienced a fraction of the intensity consuming me right now.

I moved to her other breast, lavishing it with the same intense attention until she was whimpering my name. Then, I slid my hand down the flat of her stomach, dipping beneath the lace to find her completely drenched. The sound I made was feral. Her thighs fell open, and I began a slow, deliberate stroke, circling her swollen clit.

“Tell me what you need, Serena.”

“Touch me... please, I need—” A broken gasp tore from her throat as I applied direct pressure to her sweet spot. Her pelvis lifted off the mattress, chasing my hand. “Yes! Right there! Don’t stop!”

I didn’t stop.

I worked her with practiced, relentless precision, reading every tremor of her body, every shift of her breath. She was close within seconds—I felt her inner walls tightening around the two fingers I slid deep inside her, her thighs clutching my wrist as her gasps turned frantic.

“Let go for me,” I commanded against her throat.

She shattered beneath me with a loud, ringing cry, her whole body convulsing in a violent, shuddering wave. I kept my fingers moving, riding out every last tremor until she went soft against the satin, her chest heaving, her hands clutching at my shoulders.

I gave her a single beat to breathe. Then, I slid my hand lower.

She went rigid as she registered where my thumb was resting. I applied the lightest pressure against her secondary entrance—not forcing, just offering the explicit promise of what was to come.

“Anton...” she choked out.

“Not tonight,” I said, low against her ear. “But after more training, I’ll eventually take you here.”

I increased the pressure slightly, feeling a long shiver run straight through her body.

“I’ve never... I don’t know if I can⁠—”

A dark, overwhelming surge of possessiveness surged through my veins, knowing with absolute certainty that I would be the only man to ever claim every inch of her body.

“You can,” I whispered ruthlessly. “One day, you’ll beg me for it, and it will undo you.”

The sound she made wasn’t a word—it was a deep, guttural moan that started in her chest and vibrated through her whole frame. It was raw, desperate, and completely surrendered.

I stepped out of my trousers, shifting back between her thighs. She lifted her hips to meet me before I even pushed forward. I looked down at her face—her blue eyes glassy and dark, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed.

“Only me,” I demanded.

“Only you,” she promised.