{KILLIAN}
We barrel through the door of a supply closet. Chiara's gown already bunched in my hands before we even close the door. I slam her against the wall, her desperate gasp like music to my ears as she reaches for the front of my pants.
The hunger in her eyes is intoxicating. She's surprised me at every turn we've taken. I expected hesitance from her, fearfulness, and nerves, and instead, I've been rewarded with woman whose confidence shines brighter than the sun. She is not timid like I expected; she is bold and unafraid, and with each passing day, another piece of me becomes drunk on her.
Addicted.
I need to be inside of her, dominate her, to feel the way my hands grip her hips. Fuck, I need that release.
Two minutes ago, as I danced with her in front of my gossiping family, I was calm and collected, but this woman has turned me into a crazed, desperate man in the space of seconds.
