Chapter 19 #2
I struggle to find the right words. Safe? Thrilling? Right? All of those, but something more too.
"Like I can breathe," I finally say. "Like I don't have to be on guard every second."
After dinner, Axel suggests a nightcap at the hotel bar. It's intimate and dark, with low leather chairs and flickering candles on each table. A jazz trio plays softly in the corner, the saxophone weaving through conversations like smoke.
I curl into the chair across from him, feeling pleasantly warm from the wine at dinner. The bartender brings our drinks, whiskey for Axel, a fancy cocktail for me that tastes like cinnamon and oranges.
"Can I ask you something?" I say, watching him over the rim of my glass.
"Anything." His eyes never leave mine, steady and warm in the dim light.
"Are you always like this?" I gesture vaguely between us. "So… attentive. So present."
He considers the question, rolling his whiskey glass between his palms. "Yes and no."
"That's not an answer," I tease.
"I'm always attentive with women," he says, leaning forward. "But not like this. Not with this intensity."
"What's different?"
His eyes darken. "I don't usually feel this… possessive.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t share. Not with you. When I want something, I take it. Everyone else fades away.”
Heat flares in my chest, sharp and overwhelming. The words hit something deep and primal, making my breath catch. My thighs clench under the table, awareness of him filling every inch of me. My voice comes out unsteady. “Your woman?”
"Yes." No hesitation, no qualification. Just absolute certainty.
I swallow hard, the word woman catching in my throat like I actually belong to him.
"Am I… yours?"
"Yes." Again, that immediate response. His gaze is unwavering, almost challenging. "Does that scare you?"
I should lie. Should brush it off with a joke or change the subject. But something about this place, this night outside of real life, makes honesty easier.
"Yes," I admit quietly. "It terrifies me."
He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. His thumb traces slow circles on my palm. "I won't let it."
"Won't let what?"
"Won't let it scare you. Not for long." His voice drops lower. "I'll show you that belonging to someone can feel like freedom, not a cage."
His promise hits so hard my throat goes tight, and I have to look away, afraid he’ll see how much I want to believe him.
I've spent so long seeing relationships as traps, as vulnerabilities to be avoided. The idea that someone could claim me without diminishing me is revolutionary.
"Why haven't you shown me this side of you before?" I ask, my voice barely audible above the music. "This… intensity."
"I didn't want to scare you off." His fingers tighten around mine. "You've got walls a mile high, Sadie. I've been trying to scale them carefully."
"And now?"
"Now I'm done climbing." His eyes burn into mine. "I'm ready to tear them down."
The raw need in his voice makes me dizzy. Or maybe it's the cocktail, the altitude, the heady feeling of being wanted so completely.
I can’t take another second of pretending. I stand, heart racing, and grab his hand, pressing my body flush to his. My voice is low, ragged with want. “Take me upstairs. Make me yours. Show me what happens when I stop running.”
His eyes darken to near-black, his hand sliding possessively to the small of my back. "You sure about that?"
I push onto my toes, desperation breaking through.
My mouth finds his, hunger driving the kiss rough and hot.
I pour every bit of my fear and want into him, needing to feel his control slip.
When I pull away, my lips are swollen, breath ragged, and all I want is for him to take me upstairs and strip me bare.
"Completely sure," I murmur against his lips.
He tosses cash on the table without looking, then guides me toward the elevator, his hand firm against my lower back.
The possessive gesture shouldn't thrill me the way it does.
I've spent years cultivating independence, teaching myself not to need anyone.
But something about the way Axel touches me, like I belong to him but also like he'd tear the world apart to keep me safe, makes me feel both claimed and free.
In the elevator, he backs me against the wall, one hand braced beside my head, the other still at my waist. He doesn't kiss me, just looks, his eyes traveling over my face like he's memorizing every detail.
"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious under his intense scrutiny.
"Just making sure this is real," he says, voice rough. "That you're real."
The elevator doors slide open, and he takes my hand, leading me down the hallway toward our suite. His hand is firm at the small of my back, my breathing going shallow as every step toward the suite winds me tighter, want pulling low in my stomach, anticipation thrumming sharp between us.
As he swipes the key card, his eyes find mine again. “This is your last out. Because once I get you alone in there, you’re going to see exactly what happens when I stop pretending to play nice.”
I step closer, pressing my body against his. "I don't want you to hold back," I whisper. "I want all of you. Everything you've been keeping leashed."
The door swings open, and Axel's control visibly slips, his eyes darkening, his posture subtly changing. The man who pulls me over the threshold isn't the gentle, patient Axel who's been so careful with me these past weeks.
This is someone new. Someone hungry. Someone who intends to claim what's his.
And fuck me, I can't wait to be claimed.