Chapter 14 #3
“You had no fucking right to interfere with my life. No fucking right!” With every ounce of strength, I tried to push him away from me, but he didn’t even move an inch.
His hand moved from my jaw to the back of my neck. “You see, Alyx, you were mine the moment our eyes met for the first time, you staring down at me from your window. You know it. I know it. And we’ve known it for a very long time.”
“You’re delusional,” I bit out, my stomach swirling with equal parts desire and fear.
With his hand gripping my neck, I became hyperaware of his touch. His smell. His heat. His presence. Being so close demanded all my senses to tune into him—and only him. The world around us disappeared, and in that moment, he was everything. Nothing else existed.
His body was inches from mine, the air around us suddenly laden with what felt like raw sexual tension, strong enough to make me succumb.
It penetrated every bone in my body. The desire.
The need. The fear of being consumed by him.
I had never felt so conflicted in my life.
My fear of him was real; his actions made sure of that.
But the desire I had for him all this time felt a hundred times stronger, as if the fear intensified it, making it impossible to ignore.
His fingers weaved through my hair right before clutching tight, pulling my head back and lifting my chin toward him, earning a gasp from my lips.
“You see, Alyx, I’ve owned you long before I took you, and that is why you dancing for my brother fucking matters.”
Between him and the wall, I felt small and insignificant, like he could crush me with his fucking boot if he wanted to. As his face came within inches of mine, I smelled his familiar scent. Sandalwood—an earthy scent with a hint of soap. It was the smell of my undoing.
Even though my heart was about to break out of my chest, I couldn’t look away.
It was impossible for me to not look at him, to not think of all those nights I used to watch him getting off his bike, roughing his hands through his untamed curls, demanding all my attention without even trying.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I did silently beg for him to take me this way.
Maybe there was a part of me that wanted him to be this cruel, dangerous man who didn’t think twice without taking what was his.
His life was such a huge contradiction to mine, and maybe I craved it.
With all the perfection and discipline in my life, maybe I craved the chaos of his.
But that didn’t mean I would stop fighting, even if it was only for my own sanity.
To prove to myself that I wasn’t as depraved as he was.
I reached to the back of my neck, trying to pull his fingers from my hair. I dug my nails so deep into his flesh, I was sure I drew blood. But he didn’t even flinch.
“Let go of me.”
The smirk on his face was a giant “no.”
“I said let go of me.”
His grip on my hair only grew tighter, his body moving closer to mine. But I was determined to fight him, to prove to him I wasn’t one of his fucking club minions, and he sure as fuck wasn’t my king.
I started thrashing against him, pushing and punching at him. Unshed tears stung my eyes, desperation starting to weep from my body. I wanted to get away from him. I wanted to get away from all of them.
I lost control. It was too much.
With every ounce of strength I had in me, I launched my fists at his face. But I was too weak, too small for the likes of him. I grabbed at his shirt, wanting to tear it to shreds. “You. Don’t. Own. Me!”
The words burned my tongue, but then his lips incinerated mine, kissing me. He forced me closer, his hand at the back of my neck pulling me to him. Hard, demanding, and merciless, Granite kissed me in a way that compelled me to allow it.
My arms flailed as a last lame-ass attempt to fight him, but his kiss weakened me.
With every second his warm lips remained on mine, my strength dissipated.
His kiss wasn’t anything like I imagined it would be.
Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined it being this powerful, as if steeped in desire and passion, igniting a fire that raged between us.
He tightened his hold around me, crushing my body against his, his big frame enveloping me.
The earthy scent of him was intoxicating while the taste of his mouth against mine wrecked me.
The bristles of his beard felt hard and rough against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from hungrily pushing back, wanting more.
His tongue didn’t ask. It didn’t beg or coax.
It demanded. It claimed what he wanted, and there was nothing left in me to fight with.
His kiss took it all, and my body betrayed me with a primal desire that lived in us all.
It wanted more and more with every passing second, instantly addicted to the rush of tasting him, feeling him, as if he had only become real the second our lips touched.
My mind scattered into a million directions at once while my body was set aflame. All it took to disarm me, to ruin and possess me, was one simple yet demanding kiss from the devil himself.