Chains of Desire

Eloise stood frozen behind the half-closed door, her hand pressed against the frame as her father’s voice thundered through the room.

"You better pray she’s still a virgin," Matteo Bernardi snarled, his words slurred with drink and disgust. "Because that’s the only thing she has left to offer."

The words landed like a slap. Eloise felt them cut straight through her chest, sharp and humiliating. She had heard her parents fight countless times, but tonight the cruelty felt different. 

And her mother’s broken silence only made it worse.

She couldn’t listen anymore.

Turning away from the door, Eloise moved on quiet feet, her heart pounding with a mix of rage and shame. Ten years of this. Ten years of being the disappointment. 

The weak daughter. The girl who couldn’t secure an alliance. The girl who hid behind books while her cousin Rose was handed to Massimo Caputo like a prize.

She was done.

She slipped into her bedroom, the walls suddenly too small, too suffocating. The Italian night called to her through the open window; cool air, freedom, rebellion dangling out of reach. 

Without thinking twice, she climbed out, her thin nightdress catching on the frame as she lowered herself down. Her bare feet hit the grass, and for the first time that night, she felt something close to alive.

She didn’t look back.

Eloise walked deeper into the vast Caputo estate, the shadows stretching long under the moonlight. The anger burned hotter with every step. 

If they only saw her as something to be sold, then maybe she would ruin that value herself. Tonight. Right now. She was tired of being the good, quiet daughter who waited for her fate like a lamb.

She rounded a corner near the gardens and stopped.

A man stood alone in the shadows, cigarette glowing between his fingers. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even from a distance, his presence commanded the space around him. Power rolled off him in waves.

He turned his head slightly, his blue eyes catching hers in the dark.

Eloise’s breath caught. She should have turned around. Instead, something reckless and furious pushed her forward.

The man raised an eyebrow as she approached, his gaze slowly dragging down her body and back up again. "You’re far from the main house," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "Looking for trouble?"

Eloise stopped just a few feet away. Her heart was racing, but she lifted her chin. "Maybe I am."

She didn’t know him. She didn’t care.

"I’m never getting married," she said suddenly, the words spilling out like a confession and a challenge all at once. "They can try to sell me off like cattle, but I won’t let them. Not to some cold bastard who sees me as nothing but a womb."

The man’s eyebrow lifted slightly, but he said nothing. He simply took a slow drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving hers.

Eloise had never felt more reckless. 

“So tonight,” she continued, stepping even closer until she could smell the smoke and aftershave on him, "I want to feel something real. Something that’s mine. Not theirs."

Before she could talk herself out of it, she stepped closer, rose onto her toes, and kissed him.

The man went still for half a second, then his hand came up, fisting in her hair as he took control. The kiss was immediate and brutal, his mouth claiming hers with raw hunger. 

His tongue pushed past her lips, tasting her, dominating her. Eloise moaned softly into his mouth, her hands clutching his shirt as heat flooded her body.

He backed her against the nearest tree, the bark rough against her back. One large hand slid down her side, gripping her hip hard enough to bruise as he pressed his body against hers. 

She could feel him, thick, hard, and already aroused, grinding against her stomach. Eloise gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she kissed him back just as fiercely.

He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth down her neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin. "You don’t know what you’re asking for,' he growled against her throat.

Eloise tilted her head back, breathing fast. "Then show me."

His hand slipped under her nightdress, fingers tracing up her thigh. She shivered at the bold and possessive touch. He found her already wet and groaned low in his throat, rubbing his fingers against her heat.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice dark. "You’re soaked."

Eloise moaned, rocking against his hand shamelessly. The pleasure was overwhelming. She had never felt anything like this; the danger, the heat, the wanton desire. For once, she wasn’t thinking about duty or shame. She was just feeling.

The man pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into hers. His fingers kept moving, teasing her entrance but not pushing inside yet.

Eloise looked up at him, breathing hard. Her voice came out husky and defiant.

"Would you like to fuck me?"