Chapter eight

He was gone. 

As Camellia's eyes roamed around searching for him, Alejandro watched her. How her pupils dilated, how they reddened like she had tears stored up in them.

She was looking for someone. Another man. While he was right by her side.

His blood boiled. 

He spun her around, holding her wrist firmly. His voice dropped to a whisper as he scanned her face deeply. 

"Camellia... Who are you searching so desperately for?" 

Camellia felt her muscles stiffen. She had a feeling he knew. Alejandro was a very dangerous, even for Mateo. 

If he knew she was looking for Mateo, then Mateo would be in a whole lot of trouble.  

She straightened her back, raising her chin up in defiance. "None of your business, Alejandro." 

He smirked, "Do I need to show you just how much of...? "his eyes trailed down her body, growing lighter with lust."...'my business' you are? " he stressed. 

Camellia could sense the danger in his voice, like a silent warning, a subtle threat. His fingers dug into her lean wrist hurting her,

 " You are my wife... Do you really think I'II let you run around with other men?..." 

His wife? Was he crazy? They hadn't even had an engagement party. And their wedding was still weeks ago. 

Camellia wanted to fling his hand off but eyes were on them, people were watching. They had to sell the image of the perfect couple, and not the opposite. She breathed in slowly, 

"... I am not your wife, Alejandro. Don't you get that idea into your fucked up head. " She whispered, making sure she had a huge smile pasted on her face. 

"Careful, Princessa." He warned, his dark eyes narrowed. 

Princessa? That was derogatory. He didn't just call her that, did he? 

"Or what?" Camellia challenged, refusing to back down. 

He didn't say a word instead, his hands immediately went around her hips tossing her over his shoulders. Camelia groaned almost kicking but then, she stopped as it occurred to her that the crowd was watching them. 

Ladies in the crowd blushed, men chuckled. It seemed like they were finally selling the image of the perfect couple, one who couldn't wait to get up the stairs and get intimate.  

Alejandro carried her up the stairs. With each step he took, Camellia wanted to kick his dick with her red bottom heels, scratch and slam his back but she couldn't. 

Not in front of everyone. 

Alejandro finally shut the door, throwing her on the bed. Camellia landed right on the soft mattress. She immediately sat up, her eyes stared up challenging. 

Alejandro stood right before the king sized bed—at the foot. His dark eyes  raking over her body, over the soft rise of her cleavage, over her delicate curves at both sides of her waist. 

His gaze was animalistic, filled with a predatory hunger that made Camellia's chest move up and down rapidly.

“You must be insane...” she shouted, her voice came out breathless. It was filled with anger, so much of it. But also with another emotion, one she would rather dig a grave than name. 

He didn't respond, a wicked smirk climbed over his face, dangerous, slow. He drew closer to her. His eyes were still, watching. 

His fingers moved as he unbuttoned the first few of his shirt. 

"Am I?" 

Camellia took a deep breath in, her eyes fell on his sharp collarbone, moving over his Adam's apple. Each line, each muscle was tempting. Alejandro wasn’t just establishing his dominance, he knew what he was doing.

She couldn't deny her attraction to him, and he knew it. He was testing her, pushing her to see if she would resist him or surrender. 

He unbuttoned the next few buttons, taking another step closer to her.

“Dilo otra vez,(Say it again.)” he murmured, his voice— a dangerous mixture of dominance and sin. ““Di que no soy tu marido(Say I’m not your husband.)”

Camellia could hear her heart banging, she gulped in, but refused to back down. She lifted her chin, locking his eyes. 

“Alejandro Ricci... "She called out, her voice filled with rebellion. 

" You’re not my... ”

She gasped, Alejandro came too close now. His figure leaning over her, his  hand pressing into the space close to her hips, his other hand holding her chin between his fingers. His eyes stared into her, lips hovering inches from hers.

“I could make you say otherwise,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Camellia shivered, she could feel heat inside her. His scent was addictive, a mixture of his extravagant dark cologne, leather, smoke and a hint of whiskey. The way her heart did a spin in her chest, the way she felt moisture forming between her legs... 

Damn it, He was so close, just too close. 

Her eyes fell on his neck, his Adam's apple bobbled in his throat, it's movement was hypnotic. The way it moved up and down was teasing. His fingers brought my chin up again, my eyes locked his. 

“I could make you beg, Princessa,” he smirked. Then slowly, his lips grazed  her lips sending a pulse of heat through her body. 

Camellia's fist clenched, her nails bit into her palms. She glared at him, her eyes shooting flames. 

He was playing with her, just like Mateo had. Toying with her like she was just another desparate little girl, one that would fall right at his powerful feet. 

But she wasn't that woman. She refused to be.

 At least, not anymore. 

She smirked, pulling away just a little bit. Her hot breath fell against his cheeks leaving behind a ghostly feel. She slightly tilted her head, summoning every bone of rebellion she had in her. Her eyes came up, confidently locking his. 

“Alejandro, you seem to forget,” she uttered, her voice filled with challenge and rebellion. “I do not beg.”

His eyes darkened with hunger, then his lips crashed into hers, savoring every passing second. She didn't want pull back, she couldn't. He moved his hands, his thumb brushing against her cheeks. It felt electrifying, the taste of his lips. 

And when he drew back, he left her panting, breathless for more. 

Her lust filled eyes still lingered on his lips, her fingers slowly ran over her lips as she released a subtle exhale. 

Alejandro smirked, "We'll see about that, Princessa."

The effect he had on her was uncontrollable.