They say your first time should be slow... sweet… filled with love.

But love doesn’t bruise your lips with desperate kisses.
It doesn’t make you forget your own name when a stranger says it like a promise.
And it doesn’t make you burn in a room of shadows while secrets crawl across your bare skin.

Yet here I was.

Naked. Breathless. Wrapped beneath the coldest man I’d ever met.

My fingers gripped the silk sheets as his mouth descended on my collarbone, grazing — then biting — until I gasped.

“Jude…”
His name tore from my lips like a confession.
One I shouldn’t have been making.

He paused.
His ice-blue eyes lifted to mine, a silent warning buried beneath the heat he tried so hard to suppress.
“Don’t say my name like that, petite flamme.”
(little flame.)

But I wanted to. Again and again. I wanted to feel him lose control for once.

Because he was control.
Power.
French-born madness bottled into a body sculpted by sin.
Older. Dangerous. Untouchable.

And yet, tonight — I touched him.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I whispered, barely able to breathe.
My legs were trembling beneath him.
His hand slid up my thigh, slow and unforgiving, pausing at the curve of my hip.
“Because you begged for it.”

No softness. No romance. Just raw, breaking heat.

His mouth slammed against mine and everything burned — the lies I told myself, the rules I’d tried to follow. I forgot I was Elyaa Roy, the mafia princess. I forgot the world outside his sheets.

All I remembered was how his voice sounded when he growled,
“You were born to ruin me, mon amour.”

He pressed into me, deep and unrelenting, and I shattered — not just my body but every rule I ever lived by. My nails raked his back. My cries were muffled by his lips. My pride? Gone. My innocence? Surrendered.

I fell. Hard. Into the dark. Into him. Into the chaos.

And when it was over — when he rolled beside me, the cool air kissing our sweat-soaked skin — I turned to look at the man I should never have met.

And whispered the first truth I’d dared speak aloud:

“You’re going to destroy me.”

To which he replied with a cold, merciless smile:

“Good.”