CHAPTER 95: BURNING DESIRES PT4

André brought out the diamond ring, still thrusting inside her, his eyes dark, smoldering, completely unhinged, yet calm. "Marry me, Vivienne," he whispered, voice low, dangerous, but almost sweet.

Vivienne froze mid-moan, her body trembling. Her brain short-circuited. What the actual fuck? He actually did it? He actually fucking did it? she thought, every nerve screaming. We are fucking. You are inside me. And you asking me to marry me? You are beyond crazy. Like hell I want to marry you. You insane motherfucker.

Her hands clutched at his back, trying to hold onto something solid, but her body wasn’t cooperating. It was on fire, trembling with desire, each thrust sending sparks of chaos through her veins. Her mind was yelling, I hate you. I want to kill you. I want rob you till you are penniless as a pauper. I’m going to explode. Help me.

André, reading her restraint like an open book, slowed his thrusts, deep and deliberate, pressing her into him, taking the control and twisting it, making her body teeter on the edge of madness. He kissed the curve of her neck softly, then whispered again, low and possessive, "Marry me, Vivienne."

Her chest heaved, legs wrapped tighter around him, body shivering with anticipation, lust, and confusion. She couldn’t think. All she could feel was him, moving in her, claiming her, breaking her. Her mouth opened involuntarily, letting out a moan she hadn’t meant to give.

"Yes." she whispered with a shaky voice.

No, Fucking no. What the fuck did I just say. I meant no not fucking yes. What the fuck. My stupid mouth said yes.

André smirked at her response, a glint of chaos and triumph in his eyes. He kissed her neck again, this time more intensely, teeth grazing skin, lips sucking gently, and continued moving inside her, each thrust slow, deliberate, controlling. Vivienne could feel herself spiraling, losing every shred of control she had left.

Her mind was screaming nonsense, a chaotic jumble of vulgarities and lust: I hate him. I want more. I am going to die. I can’t stop. Kill me. Fuck me. Oh my God. Why is this bastard like this?

And then, suddenly, her body gave in completely. She felt the overwhelming pull of release, her muscles tensing, back arching, hands gripping him like he was a lifeline, and she came with a cry, a mixture of pleasure, frustration, and disbelief. Her body shook violently against him, legs clutching his waist, arms tangled in his neck.

Her breath came in ragged, shuddering gasps. Her hair stuck to her damp face, her chest heaving, mind utterly blank except for the chaotic whirl of sensation that had stolen her completely. She collapsed against him, weak and trembling, every inch of her body sated but still craving, still undone.

André held her, moving slightly to ease the tension, lips brushing over her hairline, whispering softly, sweetly, "Don’t worry, Vivienne. We’ll be happy. I promise. I’ll make you happy."

His hands roamed her back gently, almost tenderly, but his eyes told a different story. There was danger there, lust, madness, and obsession all wrapped together.

He smiled down at her, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, brushing them back with a careless, almost deranged affection. His smirk was dangerous, but his eyes were soft for just a heartbeat. This is only the beginning, he thought, heart pounding, pulse steady in a way that was terrifying.

He knew he had broken her, tangled her mind with desire, and that chaos would follow them both. He leaned down and kissed her again, softly this time, lips gentle against hers, as if reassuring her that despite everything, the madness, the lust, the hatred—they were entwined now.

Vivienne lay there, chest heaving, mind a messy battlefield of lust, confusion, and fury. Her body still tingled with heat, heart racing, and yet her thoughts refused to settle. I hate him. I love him. He is a mad bastard. Why does he make me feel like this? I want to kill him. I want to fucking kill him. . Fuck everything.

She tried to push him away, weakly, but her strength was gone, and part of her didn’t want to. She clung to him almost subconsciously, legs still wrapped around him, arms draped over his shoulders, hair stuck to her damp skin.

André let her cling, smiling faintly, brushing his cheek against hers. She’s mine, he thought again, smirk curling his lips. He could see the chaos in her eyes, taste the confusion on her lips, feel the surrender of her body, and he reveled in it. This was his triumph, and he would savor it slowly.

He kissed her forehead gently, a mock tenderness masking all the fire inside him. He whispered softly, "You have no idea what you’ve done to me, Vivienne. I can’t live without you."

Vivienne, too exhausted to form words, just whimpered softly against him, tangled in the sheets and his arms, mind swimming in lust, anger, and disbelief. Her body still trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, every nerve raw, every thought chaotic, vulgar, and wild.

André held her close, letting the rhythm of their breathing sync, letting the chaos settle into a simmering tension that promised more, a storm that hadn’t even begun. He smiled, eyes dark and dangerous, smirk still curling, thinking, This is only the beginning.

The room was silent except for their breaths, heavy, erratic, and hot. They lay there, tangled in sheets, clothes half-discarded, bodies still humming with fire, hearts racing in sync, minds a chaotic mess of lust, hate, and obsession.

Vivienne’s inner monologue ran wild: I want to kill him. I want to kill me. I want to kill us both. God, this man is insane. I hate him. I fucking hate everything about him. I hate myself. What the fuck.

André leaned down, brushing his lips against hers once more, softly, sweetly, seductively, whispering, "You’re mine, Vivienne. All of you."

Her body responded before her mind could stop it. Her hands moved to his chest again, gripping him, claws sinking slightly into his skin. She wanted to scream, curse, laugh, and moan all at once. She was entirely undone.

The room held their chaos, their lust, their madness, and for the first time, both of them knew without speaking that nothing would ever be the same again.