Chapter One #2
The admission seemed to surprise her as much as it pleased the predator in me. I let my free hand trail down her arm, feeling goosebumps rise in its wake.
"What do you want then, Isla? ”
She swallowed hard, the movement visible in that lovely throat, her little tongue darting out to wet her perfectly glossed lips.
Everything in me sharpened, focused, like a weapon finding its target.
"I don't know," she whispered, honest in a way that people rarely were. "This feels..."
"Dangerous?" I supplied again, because it was. More dangerous than she could possibly comprehend.
"Yeah," she agreed, and something in her voice made my heart kick against my ribs.
We swayed together to the music, her perfect body gradually relaxing against mine. She smelled like summer and secrets, and I found myself wanting to know every single one.
She was looking at my tattoos again, tracing the edge of chains that curled around my collarbone with her eyes, unconsciously mapping territory she'd soon know intimately.
"Did they hurt?" she asked softly.
"Yes." I caught her hand and guided it to the ink on my neck, letting her fingertips brush the sensitive skin there. "But the good kind of hurt."
Her pupils dilated at that, and I filed the information away like treasure. So much potential hidden beneath that angelic exterior.
"What do you do?" I asked, genuinely curious. "When you're not driving strangers crazy in nightclubs?"
She laughed again, the sound warming something lost inside me. "I'm an artist. And a small content creator."
"Show me," I murmured, already planning how I'd learn every detail of her life. "Your art. I want to see it."
She blinked up at me, seemingly thrown by my interest, as if anyone wouldn't want to know everything about her.
"You do?"
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't mean it." And I'd have it all eventually, one way or another .
Her smile was like sunrise breaking through clouds. "Okay. Maybe... sometime."
The promise in those words settled something restless and starving inside me.
My hand slid to the small of her back, drawing her closer until our bodies were pressed together from chest to hip, until she could feel exactly what she did to me.
Her breath hitched, hands coming up to grip my biceps like she needed an anchor.
"You're strong," she observed, fingers digging slightly into the muscle there.
"You have no idea," I replied, voice dropping to a husky growl.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth again, lingering this time. The moment stretched between us, taut and electric. Then, with an intoxicating boldness, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine.
The prey had just walked into the trap.
Her mouth was soft, hesitant at first, but when I growled deep in my throat and tightened my grip on her waist, she made a sweet sound of surrender that shattered my control.
I deepened the kiss, licking into her mouth, claiming her breath, her taste, her everything.
Her hands moved to my hair, fingers tangling in the strands, tugging just enough to send sparks down my spine.
I backed her fully against the pillar, one hand curling around her throat as I devoured her mouth, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my palm.
She whimpered, the sound vibrating against my tongue, her body arching into mine like she couldn't get close enough.
I bit her lower lip, just to hear her gasp, then soothed the sting with my tongue, marking her in small ways.
My free hand slid down to grip her thigh, hiking her leg around my hip. The dress rode up, the feel of her warm, bare skin against my palm nearly making me lose my mind with the need to possess, to own, to keep .
"Adrian," she gasped against my mouth, and my name had never sounded so fucking good.
Her hands clawed at my shoulders, pulling me closer as she kissed me harder, deeper, her initial hesitation melting into hunger that matched my own.
I growled again, the sound rumbling from somewhere primal and possessive. Mine, my brain chanted with each beat of my heart. All fucking mine, forever.
I broke the kiss only to trail my lips down her neck, tasting her skin.
She tilted her head back, baring her throat to me, with such perfect, instinctive submission it nearly brought me to my knees.
I nipped at her collarbone, fighting the urge to bite down harder, to leave my mark there for everyone to see.
"You taste so fucking good," I purred against her skin. "I've been starving for this since I saw you."
I captured her mouth again, swallowing her next moan as my hands roamed her body, learning every curve, cataloging what was mine.
Her fingers traced the lines of my tattoos, following them from my neck down my shoulders, her touch both curious and hungry.
"You feel..." She trailed off, shaking her head slightly as if she couldn't find the words.
"Tell me," I urged, licking over her earlobe.
"Dangerous," she whispered. "But safe, somehow. Does that make any sense?"
It didn't. And it did. Because I was dangerous, more than she could possibly know. But I’d tear anyone apart who tried to hurt her.
I’d only known her for minutes, but something about her had reached inside my chest and claimed every black piece of my soul.
"Perfect sense," I agreed, brushing my thumb across her cheek with deceptive gentleness. "I'd never hurt you, Isla."
The truth of it resonated in my bones. I might be a monster, but never to her. Never to this soft, beautiful creature who'd kissed me like she was drowning and I was air.
I was about to tell her more, or maybe just kiss her again until neither of us could think, when her friend jostled us.
Isla blinked, looking dazed as reality washed back in. Her friends surrounded her, a wall of sequins and perfume, all talking at once.
I saw the moment she realized what she'd been doing and who she'd been doing it with, her eyes widening as she touched her swollen lips.
"I-I have to go," she stammered, smoothing down her dress with trembling hands. "I'm sorry?—"
The Uber logo lit up her phone as she fled, her friends herding her toward the exit.
The realization she was leaving hit me like a sucker punch. Every cell in my body screamed to follow, to hunt, to take back what was mine.
The predator in me roared to life, demanding pursuit.
I moved through the crowd like death itself, bodies blurring as I tracked the golden hair disappearing through the exit doors. Nothing else existed but the need to reach her, to reclaim her.
I burst onto the sidewalk, scanning the street with predatory focus. She was twenty feet ahead, her friends clustered around her as she fumbled with her phone, looking so beautifully vulnerable in the streetlight.
Then a car pulled up, sleek, with the unmistakable Uber logo glowing in the windshield. She glanced back once, her eyes catching mine for just a heartbeat.
Something passed between us—recognition, fear, desire—before she ducked into the backseat.
I froze, watching as the taillights merged into the flow of traffic, taking my obsession with them. My hands clenched into fists, the urge to chase physically painful.
This wasn't over. Not even fucking close.
By the time I slid into my Lambo, I'd already drafted a search algorithm, cross-referencing every Isla in here with social media accounts, credit card transactions, and security cameras.
She'd kissed me like she wanted to die in my arms, had bared her throat like she was born to submit to me.
The prey wanted to be chased, and this predator was more than happy to oblige.