Chapter 27 #2
And just like that, he makes me feel small. Intimidated by his touch, undone by his presence. Suddenly, I’m not sure if I want to run or fall apart in his hands.
How can he do that? How can he bend my emotions so easily?
How does he make fear feel so much like desire?
“What are you doing?” I ask, my brows narrowing.
“Taking care of you,” he mutters, returning his hands to my shoulders, massaging me softly.
“How did you …?”
“I’m a good observer. Besides, I already told you. You’re mine. Mine to protect. Mine to take care of.”
My heart beats faster, and I don’t know if it’s because of fear or longing.
“It’s all just a twisted game to you,” I mumble, removing my hand from him.
His hand slowly ascends, each second dragging a heavier sigh from my lips. Eventually, it settles on my face, his fingers sliding the line of my jaw, savoring my shaky breaths.
“Nothing you don’t enjoy playing, little orchid,” he brags, his eyes roaming over my face. “Nothing you didn’t personally ask for.”
I shake my head and slap his hands away from me, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even wince, like my resistance is nothing more than an amusement to him. My chest burns, fury rising in my veins.
“I’m not yours,” I spit. “Stop branding me like I belong to you.” My voice lowers to a hiss, poisoned with everything I refuse to feel for him. “You shouldn’t have come back. You should have stayed buried in whatever shadows spit you out.”
His brow arches. That feels like mockery.
“You could’ve lived your life, drowning in blood and glory, building your legend as the assassin you were meant to be. That’s all you are. That’s all you’ll ever be.”
That doesn’t deter him either. He just stands there, looming, eyes dark and unyielding. Every word I throw at him only tightens the chain on my throat—the restraint I’m too proud to admit is there.
“I can assure you I didn’t crawl back here for your daddy’s paycheck.” His voice drops low.
“Then why?” My arms fold across my chest in a weak attempt to shield myself, though I already know it won’t stop him. I lean back, feigning boredom.
“Because I saw something that belongs to me and came to claim it.” His signature smug and confident smirk is back. Gosh, why is he so irresistible?
“You’re a liar.” My eyes roll back. “I refuse to believe you’re such a savage, mindless animal.”
“Maybe I am.”
“What? A liar or a mindless animal?”
His jaw tightens. “Drop it.”
“Answer me, Adam! Why did you come back?”
His head snaps toward me, eyes burning. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you!”
My breath stalls. “What?”
“I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me, but you’re in my head all the time. And not in some soft, pretty way—no. You’re there like a poison I can’t spit out. Like an obsession I can’t kill.”
My chest rises and falls harder than before.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” he says, voice low and rough.
“All I know is that you’re mine, and no matter how many times I say it to you or to myself, I can’t get enough of the sound.
And I don’t mean the fairy tale, hero-like, sweet way that you want.
I mean it in the most possessive, disgustingly obsessive way. ”
He steps closer slowly.
“Every … Every molecule of my existence is contaminated by you. And I’m hooked on the damn poison.
” His voice drops. “I don’t want to save you, Isabella.
I want to ruin every place, every thought that thinks it can keep you away from me.
I want you falling so deep into me you won’t even remember what it felt like to stand on your own. ”
My chin trembles. “Adam, you …”
His eyes lock on mine, a glint of hunger under all that restraint. “That’s what you asked to be close to you, little orchid.”
“Y-You are …”
“Obsessed?” he says before I can finish, as he always does. “Twisted? Possessed?” His voice dips, amused. “Mm … I was wondering which one you’d pick.”
He holds my face, rougher this time, his lips brushing over my neck.
“I’m already losing my fucking mind, knowing I’m not inside you yet,” he growls against my skin, eliciting a small sigh from me. “I want to have you all night, every way I want, fucking every hole in your body, whether you want it or not.”
Unable to control them, my hands find his waist, hovering, trembling, fighting the urge to touch him while every inch of me betrays the struggle.
Once again, my emotions are at war. He sounds obsessed, possessive—but I don’t care.
Maybe it’s the na?ve part of me that wants to be claimed, or maybe it’s something darker.
Something that recognizes the darkness in his voice as a mirror of my own.
Because when he looks at me, I see hunger, and I hate how much I want to be devoured.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “It drives me fucking insane knowing I’ll be the first one to eventually fuck you … and the only one who ever will.”
A small gasp rattles in my throat. He’s the devil in the flesh, and yes, I am terrified of him. But why does the desire for him feel stronger? God, I’m soaked just thinking about him.
He hasn’t laid a hand on me, but my body’s already betraying me for something I don’t even understand. It’s sick, I know it is, but I still want him between my legs more than I want to breathe.
It only makes me want to oppose him … just to hear more.
“It’s not right,” I say, not believing a word I’m saying. It’s damn right, and I need it.
“I never did what’s right.” He grips my hips and pulls me closer to him, his hard cock pressing against my pussy.
“My father will kill you,” I moan louder, slowly letting go.
“Then he’d better move fast,” he murmurs against my skin, a hint of dark amusement in his tone. “Because I’m about to stop being patient.”
I can’t think straight. My thoughts revolve around one question … and the answer to it.
“H-How do you know you’ll be the only one?” I stammer.
He groans against my skin. “Because I’d rather drag the whole fucking world to hell with me than let anyone else touch you.” His lips leave wet trails on my neck as his hands shake from the battle not to touch me lower. “I will end bloodlines just to make my point.”
“Then why don’t you do it?” I ask.
He removes my orchid hair pin and knots his hand in my hair, dragging a sound from me that’s pure surrender. His smirk brushes my throat. “Do what, little orchid?”
I can’t take it any longer. I want him. I need him.
“Touch me,” I sigh, my eyes closing. “Kiss me. Fuck me. Ruin me the way you want. I need your hands on me. Inside me. I need you inside me.” Slowly, he pulls back and looks at me, like a man who’s about to lose control. “Please,” I mutter. “Please, Adam.”
There’s a pause.
“Fuck it.”
His grip tightens on my hair and jaw, and his mouth crashes into mine.
He kisses me roughly and desperately, and I reciprocate with equal fervor.
A guttural sound tears from him, as if he’s been starving for this for years.
God, I feel clumsy and desperate, like I don’t know what I’m doing, but this … this feeling is to die for.
His hands grip my hips, pulling me against him, unable to wait anymore.
I wrap my legs around his waist, my breath catching when I feel his cock pressing between my thighs again.
It’s big and hard, and it scares me how badly I want it.
My panties are already soaked, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide how wet I am for him.
I’ve never done this. I shouldn’t even be letting it get this far, but all I can think about is how it would feel to have him inside me. Stretching me, ruining me, making me his.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growls against my mouth, his breath hot and ragged. “You’re not going to like where it leads.”
“I do. And I don’t care,” I whisper, clutching at him, my voice shaking but filthy with need. “I want you to ruin me. Hurt me if you have to. Just don’t stop.”
His hand slides between my legs, over my soaked panties and he groans.
“You’re this wet, and I haven’t even touched you properly.”
I grind against his hand without thinking. “I need you inside me. I don’t care if it hurts. I want it to hurt.”
His hand flies to my throat. “Take off my pants.”
My hands shake as I grab the waistband of his sweatpants and pull them down a few inches. His lower abs are cut, veiny, and stupidly hot. I stare, because I can’t not. I’m nervous. My hands are sweating, but I want it.
“Mitch?” Wes’s voice cuts through the air.
Shit.
My stomach drops. I freeze for a second before covering my face like that’ll magically make me disappear.
God, this is fucking humiliating.
Adam doesn’t move or say a word; he only lets out a long, annoyed groan.
“What is it, darling?” Adam says, voice thick with sarcasm as he crosses his arms and turns his back to me.
Wes clicks his tongue, eyes dragging over both of us. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, and lets the silence stretch.
“Boss needs to see you.”