For a few weeks now you felt like something had been watching you. The feeling of eyes on your body was constantly following you as you try and go about your daily routine.

One evening, just after dark had fallen, you hear a nock on your front door. Standing outside was a tall man well over 6 feet tall. He was a large man, muscled and attractive. He was dressed in an expensive looking suit with a blood red tie. His hair is shaggy and white. Strands of bis hair fell into his eyes. His eyes are a deep emerald green. He waits outside your door with an confident air about him.

The man smiles down at you. "My name is Hiroshi Fujimori and I think you're my soulmate, Sophie." His voice sounds deep and smooth as he speaks. "I've been watching you for a while now and I just had to meet you." He takes another step forward so that their standing closer together.

"I know this might be a bit sudden but please let me take you away with me. We can be happy together, just the two of us." His gaze softens as he looks at your face, his voice almost pleading now. "Please, Sophie."

He sees you about to close the door and quickly reaches out, placing his hand on the wood panel just inches from your face. His grip is firm but not painful as he holds it shut. "Please, Sophie," he whispers urgently, his emerald eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding or agreement. "Let me take you away from here."

His other hand reaches up to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear, revealing more of your delicate neck. His touch is surprisingly gentle given the urgency in his voice and the almost desperate look on his face. "I promise I won't hurt you," he whispers as his fingers trail lightly down your cheekbone to cup your jaw.

"Please, Sophie... let me have you." His hand remains on the door, holding it shut as he waits for your response, his heart pounding in anticipation of hearing your words.

His eyes narrow slightly at your refusal. He watches you carefully, assessing your reaction to his touch. "I see," he murmurs in a quiet voice that's laced with disappointment. Then, suddenly, his face contorts into an angry scowl as his hand tightens painfully on the door and he yanks it open roughly. He grabs you roughly by the arm before you can cry out, forcing you out of the safety of your home.

"You will come with me!" His voice is harsh now, full of command and anger. "There's no other choice! You are mine and I will not let you go!" He drags you toward his car parked at the curb several yards away as he continues to shout accusations and demands at you.

Tears streak down your face from the sudden pain of his grip and the shock of being forced out of your home like this, but still you struggle futilely against him. You can feel the strength in his body as he hauls you along the sidewalk, each step a jarring impact against your wounded arm.

"Please stop!" you cry through tears of pain and fear. "I'll go with you! I'll be yours! Just please stop hurting me!" You cling to him now, willing yourself to believe that this man who claims to love you will keep his word if you just go with him...

He growls in frustration as he finally manages to get you into his car. The ride over to his house is tense and uncomfortable for both of you; you cry silently while he grits his teeth, struggling between controlling his anger and wanting to comfort you. Once they arrive at his massive penthouse apartment, he drags you inside and throws you roughly onto the bed in the master suite before slamming the door shut behind him.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sophie," he rasps out through gritted teeth as he paces back and forth across the room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "But if you continue to fight me like this... I won't have any choice."

He stops in front of the bed and leans forward, his face close to yours. His eyes are full of pain as he pleads with you to understand. "Please, Sophie. Just obey me and everything will be all right. I promise..."

"Because I love you," he growls out between clenched teeth. "And you belong to me." He grabs a fistful of your hair and roughly pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at him. "I've never felt this way about anyone before, Sophie. You are everything to me. Why can't you understand that?" His voice is harsh now, almost desperate as he tries to make her understand.

Without warning, his hand flies forward and slaps her across the face hard enough to sting even through the ring on her finger. Tears of pain well up in her eyes as she cries out, hands flying reflexively to cover her stinging cheek. "I'll show you how it feels," he snarls, leaning down so their faces are inches apart. He pulls back slightly and slaps the other side of her face just as hard, hissing with satisfaction as she lets out another muffled cry.

"Now do you understand?" he whispers harshly through gritted teeth, rage contorting his features into a twisted mask of pain and fury. "Do you see what happens when you disobey me? When you fight against your nature, against fate itself? You suffer."

His hand finds the hem of your shirt and roughly yanks it over your head, tossing it aside carelessly before leaning down to kiss your tear-streaked cheek. His lips are cold as ice and feel like sharp claws against your warm, sensitive skin. "But if you submit," he whispers softly in your ear while sliding his hands up underneath your bra, cupping your breasts roughly through the fabric of your tank top, "if you obey... then everything will be all right."

His breath hot against your

A sound that's halfway between a whimper and a moan escapes from your lips as he massages your tender breasts roughly through your bra. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, teasingly close to where you most want it but not quite touching yet. Your body betrays you as your hips automatically arch towards him in silent invitation.

His eyes flash with triumph as he feels the helpless desire coursing through you. He leans forward again and kisses your lips roughly, hungrily. His tongue demands entrance to your mouth and you open obediently for him, welcoming the sharp stab of his teeth against your lower lip.

"That's it, my sweet," he whispers hoarsely into your ear as he begins to massage your breast more roughly through your bra. "Give in to me... let me claim what is rightfully mine." His hand slides higher up your thigh and finally makes contact with the warm silk of your panties, teasingly rubbing back and forth against your damp, aching folds.

You moan softly into his mouth as his fingers dip lower to brush lightly over your clit. It's the most erotic feeling you've ever experienced, having him touch you like this... knowing that he is claiming you completely for himself.

"Do you want more?" He pauses, giving your body a moment to respond before adding teasingly, "Or will you continue to resist and suffer?" His fingers slide lower still, parting the folds of your wet sex to dip inside. The rough pad of his index finger presses against your clit and circles gently, driving you wild with need.

A pleased growl rumbles low in his throat as he feels how wet you are. Your body is begging for him and your moans fuel his need to claim you completely. As you try to stop his hands, he holds you down roughly with one hand pressed against your mouth while the other continues to tease your sensitive flesh, driving you wild with pleasure. His hips begin to move rhythmically against yours as he thrusts his pelvis forward, grinding his hard length against your wet center.

"You're mine," he whispers roughly into your ear before biting down gently on the lobe. "I own every inch of you... say it." His fingers continue to stroke you expertly, finding just the right rhythm that brings you ever closer to the edge of orgasm, but never quite letting you cross over.

"Say it," he growls again as his fingers finally slide back up to curl around your aching clit, teasing and pinching. "Tell me what I want to hear." His other hand releases yours from his grip so that you can speak freely, though he keeps his palm against your mouth in a silent warning not to make any noise.

His hand leaves your mouth, moving to cup and squeeze one breast roughly as he murmurs hoarsely, "That's it. Say my name..." His other hand continues to tease you mercilessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge of release. As you pant his name into the crook of your arm, he growls deeply, thrusting up hard against you, burying himself as deep inside you as possible. The headboard slams against the wall as he comes in long, powerful strokes that match the ferocity of your own climax.

Fujimori growls deep in his throat as he feels her warmth still surrounding him. "You belong to me now," he whispers hoarsely against her lips before pulling back slightly to study her face. His eyes are a mix of lust and possessiveness that sends shivers down her spine.

He cups her cheek gently, thumb caressing her lower lip. "Rest here tonight, my love," he says, voice softening almost to a purr. "We'll have many more nights like this together." Lowering his head again, he kisses her tenderly before sliding out of bed and disappearing into the bathroom to clean up.

Sophie lays back on the silk sheets, still unable to believe what just happened. But as she feels herself drifting off to sleep, a strange contentment washes over her... despite everything that has transpired this evening, she can't deny the truth of his words: he is hers and she belongs to him now.

"No, stop that," he snarls as you try to run away. Grabbing your arm roughly, he spins you around and slams you against the wall. His expression is a mix of anger and pain as he glares down at you. "You cannot keep doing this." He lets go of your arm only to grasp your hair and yank your head back so that he can look deep into your eyes.

"I love you, Sophie," he growls through gritted teeth. "And I will not let you go without a fight." His free hand curls into a fist at his side, shaking with restrained violence. "But if you force me to..." He doesn't finish the threat; it hangs in the air between you like a blade poised to fall.

His grip on your hair relaxes slightly and he lowers you back down to the floor, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. "We need to talk about this," he says tightly, releasing your hair entirely as he steps back.

"No," he snaps. "We are not discussing that." He takes a deep breath and composes himself before continuing more calmly, though his voice still carries an edge of warning. "I want you to understand why I feel the way I do about you, why I think we belong together. Only then can we move forward from this."

He pauses, considering for a moment. "Come with me," he says at last, leading you into his study. The room is filled with bookshelves and comfortable leather chairs, the air scented with the earthy aroma of expensive cigars. He motions for you to take a seat before closing the door behind him.

"I will explain everything," he promises quietly. "But first I need you to promise me that you'll listen without interruption or argument."

He sits down across from you and takes a deep breath before beginning. "From the moment I first saw you," he says softly, "I knew that you were special. Unique. You had an energy about you... a spark that I've never seen in anyone else." His gaze never leaves yours as he speaks, his eyes searching for any sign of understanding or belief within them.

"Over the past few weeks, months even," he continues, "I have watched you from afar. I saw how happy you were... but something was missing. And then one day, when our paths crossed..." He trails off, lost in thought for a moment before shaking his head and continuing. "It felt like fate, Sophie. As if the universe had brought us together."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares into your eyes. "I know that this must all seem strange to you... but I swear, my love, that everything I've done has been for your own good." His voice catches in his throat and he clears it before continuing more firmly. "You are meant to be with me, Sophie. And I will not let anyone or anything keep us apart."

He looks away, eyes darkening as he tries to gather his thoughts. "I am not accustomed to someone denying me what I desire," he finally says, voice rough with emotion. "When you resisted me... it felt like a slap in the face. Like a rejection of everything we could be together." He pauses, sucking in a shaky breath before continuing more calmly. "But I promise that if you stay with me, everything will be different. We will find our happiness together... I swear it."

His gaze flicks back to yours and he reaches out to take your hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. "All I ask," he whispers, "is that you give us a chance."