A Forced Contract Marriage with the Devil novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Alessandro’s POV

Nikolai was defiant, but I expected nothing less.

I twisted my fingers into his hair, yanking his head back sharply. His sharp intake of breath sent a thrill through me. He hated how easily I controlled him, yet his body betrayed him in ways he couldn’t yet understand. He would, in time.

With a firm tug, I forced him to his knees. The cold floor bit into his skin, but I knew it wasn’t discomfort that made his breath hitch–it was the weight of my presence, the undeniable shift in power between us. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, his entire body wound tight. Resistance. I welcomed it. I thrived on it.

I let the moment stretch, let the tension coil between us. Then, deliberately slow, I unbuckled my belt. The metallic clink filled the space between us, and I watched as he swallowed hard.

I smirked. He was trying so desperately to hold onto his anger, to deny what was happening, but his reactions were telling me something else entirely.

His eyes locked onto me, a storm of conflicting emotions flashing through them. I gripped his chin between my fingers, forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Open your mouth, Nikolai,” I murmured, my voice smooth, unyielding. He shook his head, his breath uneven. “No…” His defiance was weak, his voice barely above a whisper. I laughed lowly. “No?” I repeated, tilting my head as I studied him. “You’re trembling.”

His body was betraying him, and we both knew it. I leaned down slightly, my grip tightening in his hair. “You can fight this all you want, but you and I both know the truth.”

He glared at me, but his lips were slightly parted, his breaths shallow. He was already losing this battle.

I dragged my thumb over his lower lip, watching as his expression flickered between hatred and something dangerously

close to surrender.

“Stick your tongue out,” I commanded. His hesitation was brief, but then, slowly, he obeyed.

Good boy.

-xx

A smirk tugged at my lips. He had no idea what he had just given me. Control. Power. The first crack in his carefully constructed walls.

I intended to shatter the rest.

“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”

I watched him freeze mid–step, his entire body tensing as my words sank in.

The sheer defiance in his posture was almost amusing. Almost.

Nikolai turned slowly, fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as if that would somehow ground him. “Like hell I am.” His voice was raw, still hoarse from earlier, but the fire in his eyes remained. I’m not your plaything, Alessandro.”

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Chapter 32

I leaned back against the bed, stretching out as if his resistance meant nothing. Because it didn’t. He could fight me with words all he wanted, but in the end, we both knew the truth.

“I never said you were.” My tone was calm, unaffected. Then, after a pause, I added, “But the moment I don’t find you in my room, you will regret the day you were born.”

I meant every word.

1 saw it in his eyes–the hatred, the fury–but most of all, the understanding. Nikolai had learned by now that challenging me never ended well.

He turned away sharply, his muscles rigid with restrained rage. I let him go, watching as he dragged himself into the bathroom like a man walking to his execution. The sound of the faucet running filled the silence, but I didn’t need to see him to know what he was doing. Staring at himself in the mirror, trying to find the strength to endure me.

I smirked.

He was wasting his time.

Minutes passed, but eventually, he emerged, dressed in a loose t–shirt and sweatpants, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. He looked exhausted, but I knew him well enough to recognize the stubbornness still burning beneath the

surface.

I let him come to me. He hesitated at the door to my bedroom, his fingers hovering over the handle like he was still debating whether to walk in. But in the end, he did what he always did.

He obeyed.

The door clicked shut behind him. He stiffened slightly, as if the sound sealed his fate. I didn’t move, watching as he hesitated before climbing into my bed–my bed–without another word.

His back was to the door, to me, as if ignoring my presence would make me disappear.

It was almost cute.

I took my time undressing, kicking off my shoes, unfastening my belt with deliberate slowness. I knew he was listening, his breaths shallow, waiting for what came next.

“Do you honestly think that moving to the edge of the bed would stop me from doing anything?”

His body tensed. He didn’t respond. I sighed, running a hand through my hair before stepping closer. “I always expect an answer when I ask a question.”

His frustration finally broke through. “Couldn’t you just have slept on the sofa?”

I laughed, the sound low and rich with amusement. “In my own house?” I let the question hang between us.

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