The Billionaire's Captive: A Heart Broken

Chadwick's fingers tightened around Amalia's jaw, the pressure bruising her skin. His eyes were dark, demanding immediate obedience.

Amalia's brain raced. She reached up with trembling hands and grabbed the thin silk straps of the dress. She pulled them down, moving with agonizing slowness, dragging out every second she could.

Chadwick let out a sharp hiss of impatience. He didn't wait. He grabbed the front of the dress and ripped it downward.

The sound of tearing silk was loud in the quiet room. The dress fell away.

Amalia gasped, instantly crossing her arms tightly over her chest to cover herself. Her skin broke out in goosebumps from the cold air and pure terror. Tears of deep humiliation welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision.

Chadwick stared at her defensive posture. His brow furrowed deeply. Suddenly, a strange, intense heat flared in his lower abdomen.

He thought the room was too hot. He reached down and roughly loosened the edge of the towel around his waist, his breathing growing noticeably heavier.

Amalia watched his chest rise and fall with rapid breaths. Hope flared in her chest. The drugs were working. He was getting weak.

She took a tiny step backward. "Are you... are you feeling tired?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Chadwick's head snapped up. His eyes locked onto hers, and Amalia's blood ran cold.

His eyes were bloodshot, burning with a dangerous, feral intensity. There was no sleepiness in them. Only pure, unadulterated hunger.

He lunged forward. His large hand wrapped around her wrist like an iron shackle, yanking her hard against his chest.

The moment their bare skin collided, Chadwick let out a deep, guttural groan.

A violent shockwave tore through his body. For years, he had been completely numb, suffering from severe psychogenic ED. No woman could make him feel anything. But the second this trembling, terrified girl touched him, his body reacted with explosive, uncontrollable force.

The raw, primal urge bypassed his brain entirely. It consumed him like a wildfire.

Amalia felt the undeniable, hard evidence of his arousal pressing against her. Her face drained of all color. She pushed her hands against his rock-hard chest, thrashing wildly.

"Let me go!" she screamed, pure panic tearing at her vocal cords.

Chadwick didn't let go. He wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing her against him so tightly she could barely breathe. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His breath was scorching hot against her skin, making her shudder violently.

Amalia realized with absolute horror that the sleeping pills hadn't put him to sleep. His mind was entirely consumed, registering only an unprecedented, alien fire burning through his veins. It had absolutely nothing to do with any chemical reaction or drug. The sole, undeniable source of this raging inferno was the terrified girl trembling against his chest-the softness of her skin, the frantic beat of her pulse, and the panicked, desperate look in her eyes that shattered his decades of numbness.

"Help!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the walls of the massive bedroom. But the soundproofing was absolute. No one was coming.

The noise irritated Chadwick. He pulled his head back, grabbed the back of her hair, and smashed his mouth against hers to silence the screaming.

The kiss was brutal. It tasted of whiskey and violence. He devoured her mouth, driven by a starvation he couldn't control.

Amalia squeezed her eyes shut. The sheer physical dominance of the man overwhelmed her. In a burst of desperate defiance, she opened her jaw and bit down hard on his tongue.

The metallic taste of blood instantly flooded their mouths.

Chadwick grunted in pain. He tore his mouth away, stumbling half a step back.

He wiped his thumb across his lower lip, smearing the blood. The haze of lust in his eyes shifted into something lethal.

He reached out and grabbed both her cheeks, squeezing hard enough to force her mouth open. He leaned in, inspecting the inside of her mouth.

"Where is the pill?" he demanded, his voice a terrifying growl.

Amalia whimpered, saliva dripping down her chin as she struggled against his grip.

He let go of her face. "What did you put in the water?" he roared, the sound vibrating in his chest.

Amalia collapsed onto her knees, her legs completely giving out. "Sleeping pills!" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I just wanted my passport! I just wanted to go home!"

Chadwick froze.

He looked down at the sobbing girl on the floor, then at his own body, which was still raging with an erection he hadn't experienced in years.

It wasn't a party drug. It wasn't an aphrodisiac.

The realization hit him like a freight train. The only thing that had broken through his psychological barrier, the only thing that cured his impotence, was this cheap, terrified girl crying on his floor.

A twisted, possessive darkness ignited in his eyes. He stared down at Amalia not as a nuisance, but as the only cure in the world.