Chapter Twenty-One #2
"What? No!" She moved forward, reaching for the bag, but I was faster, my arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her back against my chest.
"Adrian, please. Some of those things... they mean something to me."
Those words were like gasoline on the fire already burning in my chest. I spun her to face me, hands firm on her shoulders.
"That's exactly the problem, Isla,” I growled, searching her worried blue eyes. "They shouldn't mean anything to you anymore. Not now. Not with me."
Her lower lip trembled, and for a moment, I hated myself for putting that look on her face.
But this wasn't a negotiation—it was a purging.
I released her, turned back to the fire pit, and emptied the bag onto the kindling.
Photos, letters, the sweater, the diamond pendant, all of it tumbled out in a pile of memories I was determined to incinerate.
I heard her small gasp behind me, felt her move forward again, but I held up a hand without turning.
"Don't," I warned, low and dangerous.
The need for fire was consuming me now, making my hands shake with barely contained energy.
"Adrian, please." Her voice cracked on my name. "That necklace was from my graduation. And the photo album has pictures of me with my school friends, not just Noah."
I turned to face her, something in her plea breaking through the possessive haze. "You can replace all of it," I assured her, reaching into my back pocket for my wallet .
I extracted my black card, the one with no limit, the one that could buy anything money could touch.
Moving toward her, I trailed the edge of the card along her collarbone, watching goosebumps rise in its wake.
I tucked it into the neckline of her dress, letting it slide between her breasts, a promise and a claim all at once.
"This," I said, fingers now tracing the ribbon at her throat, "was gifted to you by a man who wants to possess every part of you. Those," I nodded toward the pile, "were given by a man who couldn't even keep you. The difference, angel, is I understand what you're worth."
Her breathing hitched, eyes wide and liquid. I let my thumb brush over her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my touch.
"Use my card," I continued, voice softening slightly even as madness danced behind my eyes.
"Buy anything you want. Everything you want. But these things from him? They burn. That's not negotiable."
She swallowed hard, and I watched the conflict play across her face—the rational part of her that recognized my unreasonable demand, warring with the part that wanted to please me, to be my good girl.
"You're angry," she whispered, reaching up to touch my face. "Why is this so important to you?"
I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Because nothing of his gets to touch what's mine," I answered, the truth raw and unfiltered.
"And you, Isla Hills, are mine now and forever."
I turned back to the fire pit, grabbed the accelerant, and doused the pile with the entire bottle. The sharp chemical smell filled the air, making my head spin with anticipation.
I pulled a lighter from my pocket, a jade-green one that matched my favorite knife, and flicked it open.
"Last chance, angel," I said, not looking at her, not wanting to see her expression of conflict. "Any final words for your past before I burn it to ash? "
I sensed rather than saw her approach, felt her presence at my side like a physical touch.
"You're being ridiculous," she said softly, but there was a new understanding in her voice, an acceptance that tempered the hurt. "And possessive. And completely unreasonable."
I turned to look at her and found her eyes reflecting the flame of my lighter. "Yes," I agreed, unrepentant. "All true."
She sighed, shaking her head slightly. "I should be angry."
"Probably," I conceded, watching her carefully.
"But instead," she continued, reaching for the ribbon at her throat, fingers tracing it in a gesture that had become familiar, "I'm... not. I don't understand why, but I'm not."
Relief and triumph surged through me in equal measure.
I lowered the lighter toward the pile, holding her gaze. "Because deep down, you want this too. The clean slate. The fresh start. The complete surrender."
She didn't deny it, which was all the permission I needed.
The lighter touched the accelerant-soaked pile, and flames erupted with a satisfying whoosh that sent heat washing over us like a lover's breath.
The heat hit my face, and I threw my head back with a guttural groan that sounded almost obscene in the night air.
My cock went rock-hard instantly, straining against my jeans as the flames danced higher, consuming photographs and fabric with hungry, destructive beauty.
"Fuck, yes," I breathed, watching the fire devour her past. The heat was intoxicating, the destruction absolutely perfect.
Every crackle and pop sent electricity straight to my groin, and I had to adjust myself through my jeans before the pressure became unbearable.
I watched Isla’s face in the firelight—the orange glow painting her features in shades of gold, fear and fascination warring in her expression.
Both emotions made her even more beautiful to me .
The fire reflected in her wide blue eyes, and I wanted to drown in them while the flames consumed everything that had come before me.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, I stepped behind her, my hands finding her hips and crowding into her back, so she was flush with my chest.
She gasped as she felt my erection pressing insistently against her ass, hard and demanding through the denim.
"Look at it burn," I growled against her ear, my voice rough with arousal and something darker.
The heat from the fire was making me lightheaded, high on destruction and the sweet scent of her hair.
"Every fucking piece of him, turning to nothing."
My hands tightened possessively on her hips, and I ground myself against her with shameless need.
The friction sent sparks through my nerve endings, mixing with the sight of the flames until I could barely think straight.
"Adrian," she whimpered, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she pressed back against me, her body responding to mine even as her mind struggled with the intensity of the moment.
"This is what you do to me," I panted against her neck, my teeth grazing the silk ribbon.
One hand slid up to cup her breast roughly through her dress, squeezing and kneading while my hips rolled against her ass in a rhythm that matched the dancing flames.
"Watching your past burn, feeling you against me, I’m so fucking hard I could come just from this."
The fire crackled louder as something plastic melted with a satisfying hiss.
Each sound sent another jolt of arousal through me, my grinding becoming more desperate, more demanding.
My free hand slid down to press against her stomach, holding her tight against my erection while I rutted against her like an animal in heat .
"You feel this?” I groaned, my voice breaking with the intensity of my need.
The heat from the flames was washing over us in waves—the fire, her body, it was all proof I was erasing her past while claiming her future.
"This is what happens when I watch something burn for you. This is how fucking crazy you make me."
She trembled in my arms, a soft moan escaping her lips as I rolled my hips harder against her. The sound went straight to my cock, making me throb painfully against my jeans.
"I can smell the smoke in your hair," I whispered roughly, my lips moving against her throat. "Can feel how hot you're getting from the fire. Do you like watching me lose control, angel?”
My hand on her breast moved to her throat, fingers wrapping around her neck in a possessive grip.
Not tight enough to hurt, just enough to remind her who owned her, who controlled her breathing, her pleasure, her very existence.
"I'm sorry," I panted against her neck, though we both knew I wasn't really sorry at all.
My voice was rough with need, my hips rolling harder against her ass in a rhythm that matched the dancing flames. "But I had to do this, angel. I had to."
She moaned, and I was losing it.
"Let me touch you," I growled against her throat. "Let me make you feel as good as this fire makes me feel."
Without waiting for her answer, I reached down and freed myself from my jeans, my cock springing free into the warm afternoon air.
The relief was immediate and overwhelming, but nowhere near enough. Nothing would be enough until I was buried inside her.
“Oh,” she gasped as she felt my bare length pressing against her ass, hot and thick through the thin fabric of her dress.
"I know, angel," I murmured, my hands bunching her sundress up around her waist with desperate efficiency .
The white fabric pooled around her hips, exposing her completely to the afternoon sun and the crackling fire before us.
Her little pussy was already slick, pink, perfect, and absolutely fucking mine.
"Look at that," I panted, staring at the flames while my hands roamed her exposed flesh. "Beautiful destruction, angel. Just like what I'm going to do to you."
My fingers hooked into the elastic of her panties, dragging the delicate fabric down to her thighs. Not off, but trapping her legs just enough.
The sight of her gorgeous thighs pressed together, her wet folds exposed to the fire's heat, made my cock throb painfully.
The fire had nothing on how fucking hot she looked right now.
I panted, positioning myself between her thighs, my length sliding along her soaked folds while the soft, warm flesh of her thighs provided the most exquisite friction I'd ever experienced.
"Feel how hard you make me? How fucking desperate?"
My arm wrapped possessively around her soft belly, palm pressing flat against the gentle curve like I could hold her womb, claim that part of her, too.
Her thick thighs were heaven around my cock, warm and giving, the perfect cushion as I ground against her slick heat.
"We're outside," she gasped, her head falling back against my shoulder as I thrust slowly between her thighs, my cock sliding through her wetness, head peeking out by her clit.
"Someone could see?—"
"No one's here for miles,” I growled, pressing my palm harder against her belly while my other hand found her breast, squeezing roughly through her dress.
The fire roared higher, and I could feel the heat on my face, in my blood, feeding the madness.
"But even if they could see, I’d let them watch me fuck what's mine. "
The fire reflected in her skin, like she was burning up too, all for me, marked by flames and my hands.
Sweat beaded on my forehead as I rutted against her with increasing desperation.
Her thighs were slick now, coated with her arousal and my pre-cum, the friction perfect and maddening and everything I'd ever wanted.
"You're so fucking soft," I groaned, my fingers digging into the plush flesh of her belly, feeling how perfectly she yielded under my touch.
“These thick thighs, this sweet little belly—you were fucking made for me.”
I thrust harder, my length sliding through her soaked folds, the head of my cock bumping against her clit with each movement.
The fire blazed in front of us, and I could swear it was feeding off our heat, growing wilder with every thrust.
My fingers found her clit, rubbing tight circles while I continued grinding between her thighs.
The combination of her soft flesh cushioning my cock and my fingers on her sensitive nub drove her wild, her hips bucking back against me in perfect rhythm.
She was going to come on my cock while watching her past burn before her eyes.
Fucking perfect.
"I can't—" she gasped, her hands clutching at my arms as I worked her closer to the edge. "Adrian, I'm going to?—"
"Come for me," I commanded, my voice rough with possession and need. "Come while I fuck your thighs like the desperate animal you've made me. Come in front of the fire.”
Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her whole body convulsing as she screamed my name into the warm air.
The feel of her coming apart in my arms, the way her thighs trembled and squeezed around my cock, pushed me over the edge with her .
I came with a roar that echoed across the yard, my release spilling between her legs and coating her thighs as I held her tight against me.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me while I continued grinding against her soft flesh, drawing out every last second of our shared climax.
We stayed like that for several moments, both breathing hard, the fire still crackling behind us as the stars began to appear overhead.
My arm remained tight around her belly, possessive and claiming, while my other hand gentled on her breast.
"Mine," I whispered against her neck, pressing a soft kiss to the spot where my ribbon lay. "Forever, angel. No one else ever gets to have you."