Chapter 9 Eliza
NINE
Eliza
brEAKING POINT
The safe house door clicks shut behind us with a finality that makes my pulse jump. Cooper engages multiple locks—electronic, mechanical, and a security system that beeps as it activates.
We’re sealed in. Trapped. Together.
Seventy-two hours of nowhere to run. Maybe longer.
No distractions. No escape. Just him and me.
“This is impressive.” My voice is pitched higher than usual, nerves vibrating through every syllable.
“The security measures, I mean. How many different lock systems are there? And the location—residential neighborhood, completely nondescript. Perfect camouflage. No one would suspect this is anything other than a normal row house. The architectural details are authentic too. Did Cerberus design this, or did you acquire an existing property and retrofit it?”
Cooper moves through the space with lethal calm, checking the windows and scanning the street through gaps in the blinds.
Silent. Controlled. Dangerous.
He doesn’t answer.
Which only makes me talk faster.
“The furniture looks deliberately generic. Practical but forgettable. Nothing that would stand out in anyone’s memory.
And these walls—are they reinforced? They appear to be thicker than standard residential construction.
Probably bulletproof, right? How long has this location been operational?
Do you have multiple safe houses, or is this the primary—”
“For the love of God,” Cooper cuts me off, voice like sandpaper and heat, turning to face me with an expression I can’t quite decode.
His green eyes are locked on me—intense, unblinking, loaded with a tension that has nothing to do with logistics and everything to do with us.
The space between us tightens.
“Do you ever shut up?”
The words should land like an insult. But they don’t.
Not with that look in his eyes.
That predatory stillness. That heat curling behind his gaze, restrained by the thinnest thread.
My breath catches.
“No,” I say, chin tipping up. “I don’t. I process verbally. It’s how my brain works. If that bothers you—”
I don’t get to finish.
He closes the space between us in two brutal strides, hands framing my face, body pinning mine against the wall.
His mouth crashes down on mine with no finesse, no permission, no hesitation.
Just hunger.
Wild. Unleashed. Consuming.
My hands fist in his shirt, clinging, pulling him closer as his tongue claims my mouth—deep, possessive, absolute.
Something I’ll never recover from.
He pulls back enough to look at me, his breathing ragged, jaw clenched like he’s on the edge of losing control.
“There.” His voice is raw. Rough. Dangerous. “Finally found a way to shut you up.”
My cheeks burn—not with embarrassment, but from the way he’s staring at me.
Like I’m something he wants to break open and devour.
Fire licks through me. My core clenches.
“Cooper,” I whisper, but I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. Every synapse has gone offline, short-circuited by the way he tastes, the way he feels, the weight of him between me and the wall.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says, and the words hit like a blow. “Put that mouth to better use.”
A pause. His gaze flicks over my face, daring me to stop him.
“You’ve got one chance to say no. One. But if you don’t, the same rules apply.”
My breath catches. “What rules?”
“I give the orders,” he says, voice dark and absolute. “And you obey.”
The world tilts. Heat floods me, sharp and dizzying.
This is it.
The fantasy I’ve never spoken aloud.
The one with leather and iron and blood-soaked sand.
A warrior strong enough to take.
A man who commands.
“Are you always this bossy?” I whisper, trying to breathe past the knot in my throat.
His mouth curls into a feral smile. “If you thought I was bossy before, you have no idea what I’m like when I fuck.”
The words melt through me like lava. My knees weaken. My pulse slams behind my ribs.
He braces one palm against the wall beside my head, leaning in until his breath ghosts over my ear.
“Last chance, Eliza.”
I shake my head. Quick. Shallow.
I’m not stopping this.
Not now. Not when he’s touched a part of me no one else ever has.
Something fierce flashes in his eyes—dark, possessive, hungry.
Without a word, he grabs my waist and lifts me like I weigh nothing, pinning me to the wall, my feet dangling, helpless.
The display of strength, the sheer ease with which he moves me exactly where he wants me, lights a fire in my blood.
This is the fantasy. Not soft. Not sweet. Just raw, undeniable power.
He crashes his mouth onto mine again, and this time I don’t just lose myself—I give in. Completely.
His hands are everywhere—buried in my hair, gripping my hips, flattening me against the wall like he’s marking territory. I feel every line of him—every hard muscle, every taut inch—his cock pressed thick and unmistakable against my belly.
When his mouth drags to my neck, my body arches into him. A soft moan escapes—high, desperate, unguarded.
The sound snaps something in him.
He growls against my skin and lifts me higher, my legs wrapping around his waist. The hard jut of him grinds between my thighs, right where I need it.
“Bedroom or here?” His voice is a rasp against my throat. “Your choice. Last one you’ll get tonight.”
My breath stutters. “Is that possible?”
His mouth curves into a wicked smile, teeth flashing like a predator who’s already caught his prey.
“Darling,” he murmurs, “you have no idea how I love to fuck.”
The vulgar promise paired with the casual endearment makes my whole body clench.
“Bedroom,” I whisper, barely able to form the word.
He doesn’t hesitate.
He carries me down the hallway like I weigh nothing, heat radiating off him in waves. At the door, he doesn’t fumble or pause—he shoulders it open and deposits me on the bed like he’s staking a claim.
The room is bland. Generic.
But Cooper?
He looks like every dangerous, filthy, forbidden dream I’ve ever had.
His tactical vest hits the floor, followed by his shirt.
My breath catches.
He’s all rough-cut muscle and hard-earned scars. Strength without vanity. Power without apology.
When he reaches for the hem of my shirt, I raise my arms, trembling.
His eyes burn as he peels the fabric away. “I’ve thought about these,” he says, rough and low, cupping my breasts through the lace. “Every time you talked. Every time you wouldn’t shut up.”
He squeezes, slow and deliberate, thumbs teasing my nipples until I gasp.
“That,” he says, “right there. I’ll drag that sound out of you a thousand ways.”
His hands move to the clasp of my bra. One flick. It falls away.
Something small hits the floor with a soft clink.
The flash drive.
We both freeze, staring at the tiny piece of metal that started this nightmare.
Cooper moves like he might bend for it—but I catch his arm.
“Cooper,” I say, breathless, desperate. “It can wait. Please—I need you.”
His low chuckle vibrates through his chest. “Needy, much?”
I flush, but I don’t flinch. “Yes.”
That one word makes his eyes go molten.
“One thing you need to learn, Eliza …” He steps closer, gaze locked on mine. “I’m in charge here. You don’t set the pace.”
He lets the flash drive lie forgotten and turns his full attention back to me—like I’m the only mission that matters now.
“But since you asked so nicely …” He lowers his mouth to my ear. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” I whisper. “All of you.”
He doesn’t need anything more.
His hands make quick work of the rest of my clothes, his mouth following the path down my skin like he’s memorizing me with his tongue.
When he pushes me onto the bed and settles between my thighs, I forget how to think—how to breathe.
“Look at me,” he commands.
My eyes snap open, locking on his.
“I want to watch you come apart.”
The authority in his voice sends lightning straight through my core.
He leans in, his mouth finding the sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulder—and bites.
I cry out, my hands fisting in the sheets as my hips buck toward him.
“That’s it,” he growls against my skin. “Let me hear you.”