Chapter 7 #2
He leaned in then, close enough that his cheek brushed mine. “Finish your drink.”
My breath hitched at his command as I leaned backward slightly, trying to see how far he’d let me push. “What if I don't want to?”
He stepped forward, placing his hand firmly on my lower back.
He yanked me off the stool, forcing my feet to hit the ground, but he didn’t let go as my body crashed into his.
I could feel the outline of muscles beneath his clothes, and it made me ache for more, but still I didn’t set my glass down.
I would play with him, sure, but I would never flat-out disobey him.
Maybe I would have done it to someone else, but not to him. Not to my violist.
“I said, finish your drink,” he repeated, firmer this time, “then I’ll take you somewhere private.”
I lifted my drink to my lips and swallowed it in one gulp, the liquor burning pleasantly all the way down. When I set the empty glass down on the bar with a smirk, his eyes followed the movement like it mattered. Like he was taking every moment in because everything I did mattered to him.
“Happy?” I said softly, letting my arm brush against his as I leaned against the edge of the bar.
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “For now,” he mused as a devilish smirk finally making its way to his face. “Especially if you keep doing what you're told.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m very good at that.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he mused, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.
He had no idea what lengths I would go to to get the chance to obey him.
I would bend over and take him here in the bar if he said the word.
He reached past me to set a few bills on the bar without taking his eyes off mine, then wrapped his fingers around my wrist firmly, but gently.
Not pulling. Just like he was claiming something that belonged to him.
The music swelled around us as he guided me through the press of bodies, his hand never letting go as he steered us with quiet confidence toward the door.
The night air hit my skin with a shock once we stepped outside. It was cooler than I expected it to be for late summer. Sharper. I didn’t even care. The sounds of the bar dulled behind us as the door swung shut, leaving the street almost eerily quiet in comparison.
I laughed softly, nerves buzzing beneath my skin. “I’ll admit, I thought you were counting down the minutes until our date was over.”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t do that,” he said, keeping a smooth pace as we walked in the opposite direction of my hotel.
“I know. Sorry. I guess I’m just used to people being flaky,” I admitted, struggling to keep up with his long stride.
He slowed down to look down at me then, his eyes dark in the low light. “In my experience, most people are flaky because they don’t know what they want.”
I hugged my arms around myself, more from the way he was looking at me than the cold seeping into my bones. “And you think you do?”
His thumb brushed once over the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse jumped beneath my skin. It felt deliberate—measured—and it sent butterflies fluttering through me. “I pride myself on always knowing exactly what I want..”
We stopped beneath a streetlamp, its yellow glow briefly illuminating his face. For just a second, I saw something sharper, almost scary, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving me to wonder if I’d imagined it.
“How far are we going?” I asked, already out of breath.
“Not much farther,” he replied. “Close enough that you won’t get lost.”
I was vaguely aware that I should probably be unsettled by the comment, should be worried about how he avoided answering any of my questions, but instead it thrilled me.
The streets grew narrower as we continued on, the buildings growing older and quieter with each step.
My awareness narrowed until there was nothing left in the world but the steady sound of our footsteps and the heat of his hand anchoring me in place.
It registered for only a moment that I no longer recognized where we were, but I honestly didn't care.
He could have taken me to a back alley, and I would have called it heaven.
He slowed at last, stopping in front of a darkened doorway tucked between two shuttered storefronts before turning to face me.
“Last chance,” he said quietly, his face so close that I could feel his breath when he spoke.
“For what?” I asked, my heart pounding.
His gaze dropped from my mouth to my throat. “To change your mind. To run.”
“Why would I run? I’m tired of it. I don’t want to do it anymore,” I whispered, brushing a single strand of red hair out of his eyes.
He didn’t react to my touch, but it didn’t change my feelings.
I’d always felt rejection the hardest when men didn’t show me the love I needed, but I had given up my old life and flown halfway across the world to find him.
I wasn’t giving up now. I had crossed a literal ocean to stand in his doorway.
There was no world in which I would pull away from him, now.
The city seemed frozen in time around us. There were no footsteps, passing cars, or people’s voices. Just the hum of electricity from somewhere overhead and the steady, frantic beat of my heart, pounding so loud, I was sure he could hear it.
He nodded once, then pushed me through the front door of his apartment in one smooth motion before kicking it shut behind him.
I let out a gasp as he pulled me toward him, spinning us around until my back was pressed against the wood.
His gaze searched my face slowly as if he was committing it to memory, and I relished in the way his knee slipped between my legs, pressing my body even harder into the door.
I sucked in a breath as he lifted his hand, brushing my hair back from my neck. Not gently, but not roughly either. Purposefully. His fingers lingered, right at the curve where my pulse jumped beneath my skin, and his thumb pressed softly until my breath stuttered.
“You should be afraid of me,” he said quietly.
His words only made me want him more. “I’m not.”
His jaw tightened. I felt it more than I saw it; a subtle shift as his breathing quickened, like he was secretly restraining himself on the inside. “That’s a mistake. You don’t know anything about me. I’ve done bad things.”
“I have too. I’m not afraid of you,” I repeated, firmer this time.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.” His fingers slid lower, tracing the line of my throat, and I tipped my head back instinctively, exposing my neck to him as electricity sparked across my skin wherever his fingers roamed. I wanted him closer. I needed him to stop thinking and just touch me.
“Then make me regret it,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
His fingers bit into my waist, pulling me flush against him, and the shake of his sharp inhale rippled against me as I tipped my head back even further. His face dipped towards the side of my neck, close enough that the heat of his breath pooled there, and my skin burned in anticipation.
My pulse was thundering out of control, and a lust-drunk smile made its way to my face.
For half a second, I thought he was going to suck my skin into his mouth, leaving trails of kisses along my jawline in his wake, and the expectation curled low and hot in my stomach until my toes were curling in my shoes.
His lips hovered only millimeters away, moving closer and closer until his breath brushed faintly against my skin, and my knees nearly gave out.
His mouth opened slightly, and tension rushed through his body like he’d reached the end of a tether, and I let out a small moan as his fingers dug even deeper into my hip.
He didn’t need to use his words to tell me how or where to move, it was as if our bodies were communicating without sound, and my back arched as I welcomed the pain.
In this moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to bite me.
To claim me. I had never had the thought before, but I liked the idea of being his not just in mind but in flesh—in spirit.
I wanted to be consumed by him, and I would have laughed at the fact that he already had me panting, but I was too busy holding onto his shirt like it was my tether to reality.
I shivered as his warm tongue slid up the side of my neck, leaving a trail of heat from my collar bone to the edge of my jaw, and I gasped for air as ecstasy rippled through my body.
The edge of his teeth dragged along my skin, and I tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling at the base of his skull until he moaned.
The sound was otherworldly, and I needed more.
I couldn’t hold back what my body wanted, and I gripped his jacket tighter, pulling like it was possible to get closer.
All my thoughts blurred to nothing as he shifted, and I used it as an opportunity to catch his mouth with mine.
But instead of kissing me back, he froze.