True Affliction - Chapter 14

Another deliciously intense chapter is now live, strictly 18+ only... you’ve been warned.

The evening air kissed my cheeks, cooler than the café heat, and for a second it all felt… almost normal.

He opened the passenger door and offered his palm for me to step in, a soft, maddeningly sweet “Careful,” at my ear. He leaned across to settle the belt, mouth brushing my jaw by accident-or-not, and my ribs forgot themselves.

In the driver’s seat he didn’t start the engine straight away. He just looked at me. His thumb found a smear of gloss at the corner of my mouth and swiped it away like a man polishing treasure.

He tucked a stray strand behind my ear with ridiculous care. “You cold?”

“I’m fine.”

A beat. Then his voice shifted, silk pulled taut over wire.

“Indulge me, baby.” Blue eyes sharpened. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

I blinked. The temperature in the car dropped a degree.

He didn’t wait. “I was five seconds from walking into that café and carrying you out for the second time today if you sent me to voicemail again.”

“Alex-”

“You ignore my calls. You disappear.” Calm, lethal. “And you think I’ll believe you weren’t running? Don’t fucking lie to me, Caitriona. I feel it when you pull away. And I’ll drag you back if I have to.”

My head snapped towards him. “Jesus, Alex, I had coffee with Rosie. I wasn’t running off to another man!”

His hand flexed on my thigh; his knuckles on the wheel went white. The car was still parked, engine dead, the cabin filled with our breathing and the crackle of his temper trying not to ignite.

“Open the door,” I said, grasping for air. “I’ll get an Uber.”

His gaze cut to me, dangerous and very, very clear. The central lock clunked down. “Don’t.” A single word, a chain. “You don’t get out of this car when we’re like this.”

“We’re like what, exactly?”

“Two minutes from me doing something stupid,” he ground out. “Look at me.”

I refused. He tipped my chin with two fingers until my eyes met his.

“There’s no other man,” I said, steady. “There isn’t.”

“I know.” He said it without even blinking. Then softer, worse: “I know. I can’t bear it when you pull away.”

I reached for the handle again, half on instinct. He caught my wrist gently, lowered it to my lap, laced our fingers like a truce he wasn’t ready to sign. The fury was there but beneath it was something raw and frayed at the edges.

He exhaled once, rough, like he’d been holding his breath since I walked into that café. Then he released my wrist, and the engine fired. He pulled out from the kerb with precision that screamed restraint.

The first two turns were too neat. The third had an edge. I felt it in the way his hand rode my thigh. Firmer now, possessive, thumb dragging a slow, frustrated circle.

“Alex, slow down.”

“I am slow.” Tight, clipped. He sucked in a breath, forced the speed down a fraction.

His jaw worked. “Tell me you’re not going to vanish on me.”

“I’m not going to vanish on you.”

“Tell me you missed me.” Not a command this time, ruined-soft.

My heart cracked itself open. “I missed you.”

He swore under his breath. Relief or prayer, I couldn’t tell and indicated, easing the car into a small lay-by beneath a plane tree. The engine idled. He turned fully, one hand braced on my seatback, the other cupping my jaw with criminal tenderness.

“I missed you, too.”

Then his mouth crashed onto mine, hot and punishing, tongue pushing past my lips, devouring me until I was breathless.

When he finally ripped back, both our chests were heaving. His forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged. “Don’t ever fucking disappear on me again, Caitriona. I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

---

---

I didn’t speak for the rest of the drive.

My body was still humming. I hated how easily he could find the edge of me. And how eagerly I let him tip me over it.

The hotel came into view. He didn’t offer a hand when I stepped out of the car. He just watched. He was trying to decide which version of me he’d be dealing with tonight.

The receptionist nodded as we passed, like she knew better than to interrupt us.

But someone did.

“Evening, Ashcroft,” came a voice near the elevator. Familiar. Respectful.

I turned before Alex could respond.

Daniel.

Of course.

His hair was slightly tousled, dark navy jacket open over a white shirt, his eyes flicking between us with calm precision. “Didn’t know you were back at the hotel this week.”

Alexander’s hand ghosted the small of my back.

“Plans changed.” His tone was clipped.

Daniel gave a small nod, then offered me the same quiet courtesy he had the morning he first picked me up. “Miss Thorne.”

I softened. “Hi, Daniel.”

Daniel’s eyes lingered on Alex for a fraction too long, a silent exchange that said more than any words could. Something about it made me feel like Daniel knew exactly what I was walking into. And exactly who I was walking in with.

“We’ll catch up later,” Alex said.

“Of course, sir.” Daniel stepped aside, and with one last glance, disappeared back into the quiet.

Alex ushered me toward a side corridor. We passed two closed doors, turned another corner, and then he opened one with a keycard.

His office.

The door clicked shut, soft but absolute, shutting out the world.

I wandered further into his office, the quiet hum of power in every line of it. Dark wood and glass gleamed in the firelight, the velvet couch deep green against the shadows. The air smelled faintly of smoke and leather, like him.

I drifted to his desk, fingertips grazing the surface. Polished, ordered, everything in its place. A crystal decanter and two glasses gleamed like they’d been waiting for us.

“You actually work here?” I asked, circling the corner with a light drag of my fingers. “It looks more like a stage set. Do you just stand here and scowl at the glass until people fall in line?”

Behind me, his voice came smooth, laced with dry amusement. “Don’t need to scowl. They fall in line anyway.”

I huffed a laugh, rolling my eyes even though my mouth betrayed me with a smile. “Arrogant.”

“True,” he said, unbothered, already tapping into the panel by the wall. “I’m ordering dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

That made him stop. Slowly, he turned.

“Caitriona.”

That tone again. The one he used only with me. Low and intimate. It curled around me like smoke, sinking into my bones. My hand froze on his desk.

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. “I’m allowed to not be hungry.”

One brow arched, his eyes narrowing like I’d just challenged him to a duel. “You’re allowed nothing of the sort.”

I scoffed. “You can’t dictate my appetite.”

“Watch me.”

I held my ground, but my pulse betrayed me, drumming in my throat as he crossed the distance. Not rushing. Not lunging. Just closing in, measured and sure, until there was nowhere left to look but at him.

And then…

His arms braced on either side of me, caging me in. The polished edge of the desk pressed into the backs of my thighs. His heat swallowed the space, his scent filling my head until the air itself felt branded by him.

“You’re eating,” he murmured, his growl edged with threat. “I don’t give a fuck if I have to feed you myself.”

My breath hitched. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His mouth curved. “Oh, baby, I’d make a game of it.” His thumb brushed my lip, deliberate, taunting. “And you’d lose.”

I laughed, breathless, trying to tilt away. “You’re outrageous.”

“And you’re stalling,” he countered, voice soft but loaded. His gaze dropped to my mouth, lingered. “Salmon. Wild caught. You’ll thank me later.”

“I won’t,” I lied, pulse pounding under his thumb.

“Yes, you will.” His lips ghosted mine, hot breath teasing me mercilessly. “And you’ll like every bite, because it’s from my hand.”

The challenge burned between us, thick as smoke. For a second, I thought he’d push harder, press me into the desk until I broke completely. Instead, Alex pushed off the wood, giving me just enough space to breathe, though his eyes warned I wouldn’t get far.

“Sit.” He jerked his chin toward the emerald sofa. Not a request.

“Bossy.” I mouthed.

One step closer and he tilted his head, voice velvet and iron. “Bossy keeps you fed. Sit.”

My stomach flipped. Heat curled low in me as I crossed the room, my heels silent on the carpet, and sank into the velvet. It swallowed me whole. He didn’t join me. Not yet. He prowled behind instead, the heat of him at my back before his hands descended.

Strong fingers kneaded into my shoulders, up the tight cords of my neck, pressing, claiming. A shiver ran through me. He bent low, his breath a dark caress against my ear.

“You’re mine to take care of. And right now, that means feeding you… not fucking you.”

My lips parted on a shaky laugh. “That distinction feels awfully temporary.”

His chuckle rumbled against my skin. “Eat first, baby. You’ll need the strength.”

I swallowed hard, biting back a whimper when his thumbs pressed into the base of my skull, melting the last of my resistance. My head tipped back despite myself, and in that angle I caught him. White tee clinging to his chest, jeans low on his hips, forearms flexed as he worked me loose. The firelight gilded every line of him.

He caught my eyes over my shoulder, smirk tugging one corner of his mouth.

Then his lips brushed my temple, a whisper of a kiss, before he straightened to his full height.

I sat trembling in the velvet, my pulse wrecked and my body traitorously alive from his hands.

---

---

A soft knock cut through the crackle of the fire. Alex rose, unhurried grace, all authority and took the tray with a quiet, “Cheers.” The door clicked; the world sealed again.

He set the tray on the low table and dropped beside me, close enough that his thigh stacked against mine. Casual. Deadly.

Salmon, greens, cold water beading the glass. He twisted the cap, poured, then turned the glass in his fingers once like he was considering the weight of it.

“Here.” No edge. Just him. He held it out.

I lifted my chin. “Bossy.”

“Helpful,” he corrected, the faintest smile tugging. “Humour me.”

I took a sip. He watched, pleased, and only then reached for the fork. He broke a neat piece of salmon, steam curling off it, and held it where I could take it or not. No theatrics. No orders.

“I can feed myself,” I said, but my mouth was already parting.

“I know.” His gaze didn’t leave mine as he touched the fork to my lip. “I’m enjoying this.”

The lemon and butter hit and a sound slipped from me, humiliatingly honest. His mouth tipped, wicked and soft.

“Thought so.”

Another small piece. He didn’t push, just waited. I leaned in without thinking, the fork grazed my lip, and his thumb swept the corner before he let his hand fall back to his thigh.

“Better?” he asked, voice lower now.

“Infuriating.”

“Synonyms for ‘yes’ accepted.” He offered the glass again. I wrapped my fingers around his, drinking while his knuckles rested against my mouth, a quiet brand.

We found a rhythm without speaking. A bite. A breath. His palm landing warm and heavy on my bare knee, thumb idly tracing a line that made swallowing complicated. When I reached out, strictly for balance, my hand ended up high on his thigh. The muscle jumped under my palm. His eyes darkened like I’d flicked a switch.

“Careful,” he murmured.

“I’m sitting very still.”

“That’s the problem.”

The fork hovered. I opened; he fed me; his gaze said things his mouth didn’t. By the third mouthful my laugh escaped, wrecked and fond. “Fine. It’s excellent. Happy now?”

He dipped his head, lips brushing a smile against my temple. “Getting there.”

I stole the fork and tried to serve myself, but his hand landed over my wrist, warm, easy. “Let me.” He took the fork back, cut something obscene out of a perfectly innocent piece of salmon, and I forgot why I’d argued.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I breathed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m dinner.”

His eyes dragged lazily down my throat and back, heat and mischief in one sinful sweep. “You’ve eaten,” he said, amusement threading the gravel. “I haven’t.”

I should have rolled my eyes. Instead I reached for the water. He took it first, drank, then tipped the rim to my mouth. The cool slid down; his thumb slid along my jaw, catching a stray drop and lingering as if he had all night.

“You don’t get points for… all this.” I gestured at the tray, the glass, his ridiculous tenderness.

He leaned in, nose skimming my cheek, voice a low scrape. “I’m not collecting points, baby.” A beat. “I’m keeping you.”

The fork clinked softly onto the plate. His fingers sank into the back of my neck. The kiss he gave me wasn’t hungry; it was slow, tasting, maddeningly patient, like dessert he planned to savour.

---

---

The dinner was forgotten the second he leaned back. Alex crouched down in front of the sofa, blue eyes locked on me like I was his only task tonight.

“What are you doing?” My voice was wary, but the flutter in my stomach betrayed me.

“Being sensible.” His hands wrapped my ankle, slid my stiletto off with indecent competence. He set it neatly aside, lifted my bare foot into his palm, and put his mouth to the inside of my ankle. Slow, sinful like he had all night and a grudge against my pulse.

“Alex…”

“Shh.” Another kiss, a fraction higher. His thumb pressed into my arch, firm and knowing, each drag turning muscle to warm syrup. He repeated the ritual with the other foot, kissed there too, then stood and cleared the table.

He dropped beside me and tugged until I was tucked under his arm. He stretched those long legs onto the polished table; my feet followed, newly kissed. Firelight bled gold across the room.

We didn’t speak for a minute. His thumb made lazy circles on my upper arm, and every so often he dipped to brush my temple, fleeting, unguarded. Possession dressed as tenderness.

“Do you ever sit in here and just… be?” I asked, cheek to his chest.

A quiet huff against my hair. “I’m attempting it.”

“How’s that going?”

“Badly.” He bent, breathed me in like he needed it. “Better with you.”

Warmth crawled up my throat. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm.” His mouth curved against my temple. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

I thought, grimaced. “I’m a shit liar.”

His eyebrow kicked. “Are you now?”

“I can keep a poker face in session,” I admitted. “Clinically calm. Outside of work?” I huffed. “My tells have tells.”

He looked unbearably pleased with himself. “I noticed.”

My head snapped up. “When?”

“The day you pretended you weren’t staring at my mouth.” He didn’t even blink.

Mortification.

I nudged his ribs with my elbow. “Your turn. Something small.”

He considered. “I don’t like closed curtains. Makes me feel boxed.” His gaze drifted to the glass, to the city beyond. “I sleep better if I can see out.”

“So that’s why everything in your house is transparent,” I said, softer than I meant to.

“Among other reasons.” He finally looked down at me, the faintest, most dangerous smile touching his mouth. “I like to see what’s mine.”

I rolled my eyes into his T-shirt so he wouldn’t see the colour climbing my cheeks. “Caveman.”

“Selective.” He kissed my hair. “Tell me another.”

“I sleep with one leg out of the duvet. I hate coriander. And I talk to myself when I’m getting dressed.”

His chest shook. “I’ve heard.”

Horror. “You have not.”

“Mirror. Lipstick. Tiny pep talks.” His grin went wicked-soft. “Adorable.”

I groaned. “I take it back. I am never speaking again.”

“Tragic.” He tightened his arm, dragging me that last inch close. “Because I like your voice when you’re telling me ordinary things.”

His eyes didn’t move from mine. “Tell me where you want to go when you need air.”

“Home,” I said, then winced. “Except I haven’t found it yet, not really. I just… like the feeling of coming home. The reset. Like plugging myself back in.” I breathed out. “Green Scottish fields. Mud on my calves. Wind that tastes like rain. The dogs tearing across the grass and me sprinting after them till my lungs sting. That. I love that.”

His mouth went soft. “Good.” A beat. “Bring me when you go next time. To wherever you breathe,” he said simply.

The ache that made in my ribs was ridiculous. I nudged his leg with my toes, pretending light. “Your turn.”

He didn’t look away. “The sea,” he said, quiet, like a confession he didn’t hand out. “Open water. No edges to lie to me.” His thumb kept its slow path on my arm. “When I need air, I take a boat and sit where it’s nothing but horizon. That’s where the missing things show themselves. What I lost, what I can’t get back. Out there the absences have shapes. I can name them. Then I can breathe.”

Something in my chest tipped. “That sounds… lonely.”

“It isn’t, with you in my head.” A rough half-smile. “It’s clean.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, knuckles lingering like he couldn’t help himself.

“Look at me- actually saying it out loud.” A dry huff that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Progress.”

A faint smile. “My counsellor would be proud.”

“You have a counsellor?”

“I have you.” His eyes flicked to mine, earnest under the arrogance. “I’m not asking you to fix me. I’m telling you what steadies me.”

My throat went tight. I knocked my foot against his again, a mute okay. He smiled like I’d given him an heirloom.

“Come here,” he said, even though I was already there. He turned, gathered me into his lap in that easy, ridiculous way, one arm under my knees, the other at my back. “There.”

We sat like that a beat, his breath warm at my jaw, my fingers hooked in his T-shirt, the fire ticking, until his mouth found the corner of mine in a slow, satisfied drag.

“After I’ll walk you to bed like a gentleman and make catastrophic decisions like a sinner.” The corner of his mouth curved. “We’ll call it character development.”

I laughed into his kiss, soft and helpless, and let the night settle around us. Fire clicking, his hands sure on my skin, the conversation finally doing the thing good conversation should.

It made us quieter. And closer.

---

---

The first vibration cut through the firelit quiet, low against his thigh. Alex pulled the phone out with a distracted glance at the screen. Daniel.

He exhaled through his nose, not quite irritated yet, and set the phone on the arm of the sofa, close by. “Ignore it,” he muttered, tightening his arm around me. His other hand caught my face, firm, tilting it up. Then his mouth claimed mine. Slow at first, heat pooling, his tongue stroking mine until a soft sound escaped me.

He swallowed it, deepening the kiss. His lips trailed down to my throat, wet and hot, marking a path along the delicate skin. I gasped when his teeth grazed just above my collarbone.

The phone buzzed again, rattling against the leather.

Alex growled low in his chest, lips dragging back up to my ear. His tongue flicked out, a teasing lick along the curve, making me shiver violently. “Ignore it,” he rasped, catching the soft moan that tore from me as he kissed me again, hard, claiming, unrelenting.

His hands slid lower, gripping my hips. In one sharp pull, he dragged me across his lap until I was straddling him, my dress hiking indecently as I landed on the hard heat between his thighs.

“Alex-” My protest broke into a whimper when his mouth closed over mine again, devouring.

The phone buzzed a third time, loud and insistent, right beside us.

Alex tore back, fury etched into every line of his face. “Fucking hell.” His hand shot out, snatching the phone off the armrest.

“What?” His voice cracked like a whip, lethal and cold.

A pause. His eyes shut, jaw clenched as Daniel’s voice spilled through the line. His free hand clamped onto my hip, hard, anchoring me to him like he needed the feel of me to keep from exploding.

Finally, he bit out, “I’ll deal with it.” And hung up without a goodbye.

His gaze snapped back to me, still straddling his lap, breathless and flushed. He gripped my jaw in his big hand, forcing me to meet the storm in his eyes. Then he crushed his mouth to mine once more. Rough, punishing, a final brand before pulling back just enough to rasp, “Stay put. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

And then he rose, phone clutched like a weapon, leaving me wrecked in firelight, still trembling from the taste of him, already desperate for his return.

---

I lasted maybe three minutes.

Because of course I didn’t listen.

The silence of his office clawed at me, every tick of the fire a dare. My body still hummed from his mouth, from the way he’d left me straddling him like a possession he wasn’t finished with. Stay put. As if I ever could.

I slipped out. Heels whispering. Corridor plush and pristine, secrets tucked behind lacquered doors.

One turn. Then another.

And him.

Alexander stood at the mouth of a lounge, half-shadowed by a column. Shoulders set, hands loose at his sides in that way that wasn’t loose at all. Across from him, a woman in navy silk, severe bun, measured posture, danger wound tight as a watch spring. The air between them crackled with something I hadn’t been introduced to.

Her mouth moved, precise, cutting. He answered low, a dark rumble, jaw grinding once.

She jabbed a finger, accusation in satin.

He caught her wrist. Not rough. Final.

I froze, pulse skittering. It wasn’t romantic. It was a standoff dressed as civility. And it reached under my ribs with cold, neat claws.

Then his head snapped past her shoulder. To me.

Blue fire, direct hit.

He moved. Fast. Stripped of charm. In three strides he had me, his hand clamping around my forearm, hot iron circling bone.

“No.” A blade of a word. “We’re not doing this.” He stepped me back into the shadow of the corridor, body slotting between me and them, taller, broader, furious enough to heat the air. “Let’s go.”

“I-”

“Now, Caitríona.” He didn’t look at me; he looked through the lounge, calculating. The central lock clicked shut on the nearest door, like he could barricade the world by will alone. “You don’t stand in their sights.”

“Whose-”

“Later.” His grip tightened. Warning, plea. He turned us, already moving us away.

He didn’t get the chance.

“Alex,” came a silken cut from behind him, heels starting up like gunfire on marble.

He pivoted with me, keeping his body between. The woman in navy was already closing, smile precise and venomous, another presence. Charcoal-grey suit, ghosting at her side like a shadow with teeth.

“Stop,” Alex snapped, voice low and lethal.

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

“Caitriona?”

I flinched at my name. Gabriel’s voice, bright and stupidly well-timed from a cross-corridor. He stepped out with an easy grin. “Knew it was you.”

It was enough. All three of them turned. The woman’s eyes tracked me like a scalpel finding soft tissue.

She came right up to Alex’s shoulder and, with a precise little tilt, addressed me over it. Close enough for her perfume, jasmine gone cold, to slide into my lungs.

“I was wondering when I’d get a closer look,” she said, soft and lethal. “So you’re the one who’s got him pacing again.”

I straightened. “Do I know you?”

Her mouth curved. “Not yet. But I’ve known Alex a very long time.”

Alex shifted a fraction, blocking her line to me. “Walk away,” he warned, quiet, wrecked-silk. “Now.”

She leaned around him, eyes cutting. “Tell me,” she murmured, voice like poison poured into crystal, “does he still drag your name out like it’s the only thing keeping him sane? Or has he already started using it like a leash?”

Heat flared under my skin. The man in grey arrived with her, gaze flicking over me like I was a line item. Dismissal, weaponised.

Alex moved, a wall. His arm came back across me, barring, the air itself bowing to the force of him. “Enough.”

The word vibrated through my sternum. The blue of his eyes had gone dangerous-dark, the sort of calm that comes just before something breaks.

“Still pretending you can control the mess you made?” she purred to him, not me. “You were never very good at endings, Alex.”

“Don’t,” Gabriel threw in, easy tone fraying. “Not here.”

Alex didn’t spare him a glance. The man in grey’s shoulders angled, calculation primed. Alex cut him off without looking. “Not a word.”

His hand found mine, hard and uncompromising, a cuff of heat and certainty.

“Caitríona.” My name as command, anchor, promise.

He pulled me away, his body checking hers, his stare pinning the man in grey to silence. Every step down that corridor felt like oxygen and ash because I knew I hadn’t wandered into a lovers’ tiff.

I’d walked straight into a war Alex had been fighting long before I was old enough to recognise one. And he was going to drag me clear of it if he tore the floor up doing it.

---

The door slammed and the room jumped. He didn’t speak. He walked towards his desk and just stood there with his back to me, shoulders loaded, fists flexing like he was wrestling himself.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, voice too calm to be real. “Who were they?”

Nothing. A tick in his jaw. Then, without turning: “I told you to stay in the office.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

He pivoted, slow. Blue like a bruise. “Because you don’t get the answer right now. What you get is the fact you ignored me.”

I laughed. “Ignored you? I’m not a bloody intern you can park in a broom cupboard. You walked out and left me like a secret. I went to find you.”

“You were supposed to stay put.” Each word clean as a cut.

“While you had a standoff ten feet away?” I stepped into him. “No.”

He closed the space so fast my hips clipped the desk. His hands planted either side of me, caging heat. “You have no idea what you walked into.”

“Then make me understand.”

“I’m not pulling you into that.” Low. Final.

“She looked at you like she could touch something in you I can’t.” My voice cracked, fury threading it.

Something snapped. His hand came to my wrist, lifted it, pressed my palm to his chest where his heart was going like a sprint. “Feel that? That’s you.” He dragged his gaze over my face, furious and wrecked. “Not her. You.”

“Then stop shutting me out.”

“Then stop walking into fire when I tell you there’s fire.” He leaned in, breath scorching my mouth. “Christ, Caitríona.”

I met him, chin up. “Tell me who she is.”

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m trying to keep you clean.” His fingers slid to my jaw, not gentle, holding me still.

“She got to you,” I pushed, quiet but lethal. “I saw it.”

His eyes flared. “She got nothing.” His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, enough to brand. “Don’t do that. Don’t put ghosts between us.”

“Then stop treating me like glass.”

“I’m treating you like mine.”

“Same difference,” I shot back, breath shaking.

He dipped, so close our noses brushed. “Listen to me.” A command threaded with plea. “You don’t question what you are to me.”

“Then say it.”

“You’re the line,” he rasped. “The one thing I don’t let them cross.”

Silence throbbed. My pulse hammered under his thumb.

“I won’t be kept in the dark,” I whispered.

Something flickered, pain or pride, then burned out. He brought his forehead to mine, heat and cedar and fury crowding the air. “Don’t run,” he said, savage-soft, like he was bleeding the plea. “When it gets ugly, don’t run from me.”

“Then let me in when it does.”

His eyes closed for a beat, lashes cutting his cheek, and when they opened they were darker, something unhinged moving behind the blue. His hand slid to the back of my neck, possessive, anchoring, thumb at my pulse like he was keeping score.

“I don’t know how to let you in without swallowing you whole,” he rasped, looking tortured.

My stomach dipped. Not from him, from me. From the sheer scale of what I felt when he spoke like that, raw and ruinous, like I’d been handed the fuse to a man already on fire. I was terrified of the mess of him. Terrified of the mess of me. Of how fast I’d hand him the match.

“Alex…” It was barely breath.

He felt it, the flinch beneath my skin and something in his gaze changed. The torment shuttered. The blue sharpened. The man in front of me shifted from wounded hurricane to lethal calm in a heartbeat, like he chose a mask and slipped into it just to save us both.

“Alright,” he murmured, voice dropping to dark velvet. His thumb stroked once at my pulse, not counting now, owning. “No more ugly, not for you. Look at me.”

I did. He let the corner of his mouth lift. Sin, not solace and the temperature of the room obeyed him.

His fingers flexed in my hair, possessive, certain. “You’re shaking on the inside. I can feel it.” He dipped, his nose skimming mine, his breath hot. “I’ll fix that.”

“How?” It came out smaller than I meant.

“By reminding you exactly where you belong.”

---

---

His eyes blazed hotter, wild with fury and want, and before I could breathe again, his mouth crashed onto mine. Hard. Punishing.

In one rough motion, he lifted me, pushing me onto the polished surface, stepping between my legs like he’d been starving for this, for me.

His kiss was a storm. Tongue tangling with mine, teeth scraping, a battle of fury and need until my fists curled in his T-shirt, dragging him closer, giving him everything he demanded. His hands gripped my hips, holding me still, caging me against the desk as if daring me to try and run.

When he finally ripped back, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us gasping. His voice came wrecked, guttural.

“You’re mine, Caitriona. Every breath. Every fucking inch of you. And I won’t let anyone, anyone, take that from me.”

His words burned between us, searing into my chest, when his mouth crushed mine again.

No hesitation. No mercy.

I pushed at his chest, weakly, breathless. “You don’t get to bark at me and then-”

He silenced me with another kiss, brutal, claiming, until my words dissolved against his tongue.

The desk dug into my thighs as he dragged me closer, his body slotting between mine like he was trying to fuse us together. The hem of my dress bunched under his hands, rough and frantic, the polished surface biting into the backs of my legs as he pulled me to the edge.

“Still fighting me?” His lips trailed down my throat, biting, sucking until heat shot through me. His hand tore higher up my thigh, relentless. “Because I’ll fuck every argument out of you.”

I moaned before I could stop myself.

“That’s it,” he growled against my skin, his hand sliding up, possessive, claiming. “Mine.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair, yanking his face back up, lips colliding with his in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, a battle we both lost the moment it began.

I yanked his hair hard enough to draw a groan from him, but he only pressed closer, his hips grinding me against the desk until sparks shot up my spine.

“You’re such a bastard,” I gasped against his mouth.

His laugh was dark, ruined. “And you still spread for me.”

My protest choked off in a moan as his hand slid up, fingers gripping the edge of my panties, tearing them aside with no patience. The cool air hit me for a heartbeat before his fingers found me, slick and wanting despite the fury coursing between us.

“Fuck-” I bucked against him, humiliated at how quickly my body betrayed me.

“That’s right,” he rasped, biting my throat, sucking hard until I’d wear him there tomorrow. “You can hate me all you want, baby, but you’ll still come for me.”

“Don’t-” I tried, but the word broke when his fingers thrust inside me, ruthless, curling just right.

“Don’t what?” His breath was fire in my ear. “Don’t make you fall apart on my hand? Don’t prove you’re mine every time I touch you?”

“Alex-” I moaned his name, my nails clawing down his back through his T-shirt.

He worked me, thrusting harder, wetter, faster, until my head fell back against the desk. “Moan for me. Scream for me. You’re mine, Caitriona. Always mine.”

Before I could catch breath, he ripped his jeans open, freeing himself, thick and hard against my thigh.

His mouth curved wickedly as he dragged his cock through my slick folds, coating himself. “You’re drenched for me, Caitriona. Angry, furious… but dripping all the same.”

“Shut up,” I gasped, arching as he teased, sliding just enough to make me writhe.

His smirk was lethal. “Make me.”

And then he slammed into me, hard and deep, one brutal thrust that ripped a cry from my throat. The desk groaned under us as he filled me, the sting giving way to a rush of unbearable heat.

“Fuck-” I gasped, fingers clawing against the polished wood.

“That’s it,” he growled, hips snapping into me again and again, relentless. “Take it baby. ”

He caught my wrists, pinning them above my head, his body pounding me into the desk with ruthless precision. Each thrust drove the air out of my lungs until I was sobbing for breath.

“Say it,” he demanded, his forehead pressing to mine, his breath hot and ragged. “Say you’re this desperate for me. That you need me to fuck the anger out of you.”

My legs clamped tight around his waist, dragging him deeper, harder, my body grinding back against him despite my words. “I hate you,” I moaned, filthy and raw, though it trembled with need.

His snarl cracked through the room, vibrating against my lips as he kissed me hard, teeth scraping. “You fucking love me like this,” he spat, every thrust slamming deep, ruthless. “And you’ll scream my name before I’m done with you.”

“I won’t,” I gasped, defiant even as another moan betrayed me.

“Yes, you fucking will.” His voice was a dark promise, hips driving harder, bruising me into the wood.

“Fuck Alex!” I gasped, my voice breaking into a moan. “Harder.”

His head snapped up, eyes blazing, sweat dripping down his temple. A snarl twisted his mouth. “Harder?” His hips snapped brutally into me, the sound obscene as his cock bottomed out. “You think you can order me now?”

“Yes!” I cried, shameless. “Fuck me harder-”

His growl ripped through the air as he obeyed, punishing, relentless, each thrust a brutal strike that sent sparks shooting through my core. My thighs trembled, legs wrapping tighter around his waist to pull him deeper, to take every savage inch.

“Christ,” he groaned, voice wrecked as he slammed into me.

One of his hands left my wrists and wrapped around my throat, not enough to hurt but enough to own. My breath hitched, heat exploding low in my belly.

Alex’s lips curved in a dark snarl. “You like that, don’t you?” His fingers flexed, pressing harder, watching me squirm beneath him.

My moan was ragged, shameful. “Yes-”

“I want it,” I gasped, choking out the words.

His groan broke against my mouth, guttural and ruined, as he squeezed tighter, driving into me with savage precision. “My filthy girl. You beg me to ruin you, and I’ll give you everything you ask for.”

He was fucking me savagely into the desk, every thrust pushing a cry out of me.

I whimpered, every nerve on fire, my body trembling as he owned me with every brutal thrust, every press of his hand at my throat, every filthy word that burned through me like gasoline.

The desk screeched under the force of him, the crystal decanter rattling dangerously close to the edge, but I didn’t care. All I could feel was him, his cock slamming into me, his hand tightening when I moaned for it, his body burning me alive.

Every thrust was punishing the kind that left me clenching around him, dizzy, begging even as I tried to fight him.

“You think you’re angry at me, you think you can defy me-” His hips slammed forward, hard enough to jar me up the desk. “But your body’s strangling me, begging to be filled.”

A sob burst from me, raw, shameful, heat twisting tighter in my belly. “Alex-please-”

His thumb brushed the hollow of my throat, pressure increasing just enough to make my pulse thunder in my ears. “Please what?” His voice was low, cruel and reverent all at once.

“Make me” My voice cracked into a broken moan. “Fuck, make me come.”

“Louder,” he snarled, slamming into me harder, the desk rattling with every thrust. “Let me hear you beg for it.”

“I want it!” I screamed, shameless now, clawing at his arms. “I want to come, Alex, please-”

His groan tore through the room, guttural, feral, his cock pounding into me faster, merciless, until I was shaking beneath him, teetering on the edge. My body spasmed, clenching around him, that peak rushing-

And then he stopped.

Pulled out.

I cried out, ragged, my hips jerking against the sudden emptiness, my orgasm ripped away cruelly.

His hand stayed on my throat, holding me down, his lips brushing my ear. “Not yet.”

I gasped, trembling, wrecked. “You bastard-”

His laugh was dark, wrecked, vibrating through me. “On your knees, Caitríona. You’ll take me in your throat before I let you come.”

I gasped, still trembling, fury and want colliding. “No,” I spat, breathless. “I’m not some fucking plaything”

Alex yanked me upright from the desk, his arm locking around my waist. In the next breath he hauled me onto his hips, my legs wrapping around him instinctively, my skirt riding high as his hard cock ground against me.

I gasped into his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as he carried me. Every step jostled me closer, his chest heaving against mine, his mouth claiming mine in hot, wet kisses that stole my air.

Then he stopped in front of his chair.

He tore his mouth from mine, eyes blazing, and in one rough motion set me back on my feet. My knees wobbled, the sudden emptiness stealing my breath, but his hands steadied me, only long enough for him to drop into the chair, sprawling back like a king on a throne.

His cock was thick and glistening, heavy in his fist as he stroked once, eyes locked on me.

“On your knees,” he ordered again, voice a guttural rasp that sent fire licking through me.

“Alex-” My voice broke, shaky and furious. “I’m not-”

“Yes, you are.” His stare pinned me, merciless. “You’re going to open that pretty mouth, and you’re going to take me until you forget why you’re angry.”

“You can’t-” I gasped, heat flooding my face, fury trembling in my throat.

“I can. And I will.” His voice was dark silk over steel, calm and lethal. He leaned back further, thighs spread, stroking himself slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine. “Because you’re mine, Caitríona. And you’ll do it because you want to prove it.”

I stood frozen, my chest heaving, every nerve burning under the weight of his stare. His fist stroked slowly along his cock, thick and glistening, veins ridged under his grip. He watched me like a predator watching prey, calm because he knew the ending.

“On your knees, Caitríona,” he repeated, softer now, but infinitely more dangerous.

My pulse thundered. “I hate you,” I whispered, though my body swayed toward him like I’d already surrendered.

His mouth curved, lethal. “Then hate me down there.”

The words sliced through the last of my resistance. My knees buckled, and I sank slowly onto the carpet between his spread thighs, heat flooding every inch of me.

“That’s it.” His voice was wrecked, his hand sliding away so I had the full view of him. Swollen, heavy, slick. He tipped his head back for a breath, then looked down again, eyes burning. “Open that pretty mouth.”

I glared up at him, fury still crackling, but my lips parted, tongue darting out to taste him. Salt. Heat. Him.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his hand sliding to the back of my head, fingers fisting in my hair, holding me exactly where he wanted me. He didn’t yank. He guided, controlling, unyielding.

I gagged when his cock pressed further, thick at the back of my throat. His grip stayed firm, steadying me, forcing me to breathe through it. His other hand brushed my cheek, almost gentle, his thumb stroking the spit slick from my skin even as he pushed me down again.

A moan broke from me, muffled around him, the sound vibrating against his length. He hissed through his teeth, head tipping back, thighs tightening beneath my palms.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered, voice wrecked.

I looked up, blinking through tears, spit dripping down my chin. His gaze pinned me, searing, wild. Like I was holy and obscene all at once.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his hand fisting in my hair, controlling every movement. “Open wider for me, baby. Take it like I know you can.”

I gagged when he pushed deeper, his cock heavy and unrelenting at the back of my throat. His grip steadied me, his other hand brushing my jaw, thumb stroking over my spit-slick skin like I was something to be savored even while he used me.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he ground out, thrusting deep, his hand flexing at the back of my head. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

I whimpered around him, clawing at his thighs, and he snarled, the sound guttural, desperate.

He forced me down until my throat clenched around him, his breath breaking ragged. “Christ, Caitríona… I could lose myself right here. In you. ”

I gagged around him, spit dripping down my chin, his cock sliding slick and brutal down my throat. His groan ripped through the air, guttural, wrecked. Then suddenly he pulled me off, my mouth gasping for air, my lips swollen, chin wet with mess.

Before I could catch a breath, his hands clamped under my arms and he dragged me up, manhandling me into his lap.

“I need you wrapped around me.” He growled, his voice raw.

He planted me on his thighs, straddling him in the chair, my dress bunched high, his cock dragging through my slick folds. The obscene sound of it made my cheeks burn.

“Alex-” I whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders.

His hands gripped my hips, bruising, holding me over him. His blue eyes blazed into mine, wild and desperate. “You’re going to ride me now, Caitríona. Hard. Until you can’t breathe for me.”

And then he slammed me down, spearing me deep in one brutal thrust.

“Fuck!” I cried out, my head snapping back, my walls clenching around him, stretched and filled all at once.

His mouth crashed onto mine, biting, filthy. “You wanted harder, you fucking take it.”

His hips bucked up from the chair, meeting every roll of mine, savage, relentless. His hand wrapped around the back of my neck, holding me in place as his tongue drove into my mouth with the same ferocity as his cock.

I rocked down onto him, the force of his thrusts jolting through me, the chair creaking under the brutal rhythm. My head tipped back, a moan tearing out of me. “God, Alex”

His grip clamped tight on my hips, bruising, dragging me down harder.

I gasped, clawing at his shoulders, meeting every thrust with my own desperate grind. “I love your cock,” I moaned, shameless now, my words spilling as filthy as his thrusts. “So deep, harder, Alex. Harder.”

His groan broke, guttural, his hips slamming up into me like he was trying to split me in two. His mouth crushed mine, tongue filthy, biting at my lip as he growled against my mouth. “You’re not getting off this cock until I’m finished with you.”

I pulled back just enough to pant, my nails digging into his chest. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

His eyes blazed, wild and wrecked, sweat dripping down his temple. “I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he snarled, driving into me deeper, harder, the chair protesting beneath us.

I clung to him, breath ragged, every thrust spearing me deeper, the chair screeching under the force. My body was wrecked, my head tipping back with another cry. “Alex-fuck-don’t stop!”

“Never,” he growled, his jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple as his cock drove into me with brutal rhythm. His grip crushed my hips, bruising, forcing me to take every savage inch. “You’ve got me, baby. You fucking own me.”

The words detonated inside me, heat coiling tighter, higher, until my body was trembling violently against him. My nails carved into his shoulders, my voice breaking as the pressure snapped.

“Alex!” The scream tore out of me, shameless, my walls clenching around him as my orgasm ripped through me, brutal and overwhelming. I shattered in his lap, shaking, pulsing, milking him.

He roared, guttural, his head snapping back before he drove into me even harder, chasing his own undoing. His hand clamped around the back of my neck, holding me to him as his lips crashed against mine, devouring my cries, a snarl tearing from his chest as he lost control.

And then he came with me, his whole body shuddering under mine, cock pulsing deep as he spilled into me, hot and endless. He held me down, buried to the hilt, his groan torn between agony and worship.

I trembled around him, wrecked, my cries swallowed by his mouth before he tore away and buried his face against my neck. His breath was wild, burning against my skin. One arm clamped around my waist, locking me to him, the other braced behind my neck, keeping me caged against his chest as if he could fuse me into him.

“I can’t let you go,” he rasped against my throat, broken, raw. His lips grazed my skin, frantic kisses pressed into the sweat there.

I tried to shift, to breathe, but his grip only locked tighter, forcing me to stay seated on him, his cock still buried deep.

“Don’t move,” he growled into my neck, voice wrecked. “You stay right here. ”

“But..” My voice broke, hoarse, every nerve too raw.

He lifted his head then, just enough for me to see the wild blaze in his eyes, sweat dripping down his temple. “You feel that?” His hips rolled once, shallow, obscene, making me whimper. “That’s me inside you. Claiming you. Keeping you. No one else will ever fucking have this.”

My breath stuttered, caught between shame and heat.

He pressed his forehead to my shoulder, groaning raggedly. “Christ, Caitríona… I’ll die before I let you go. You’re it. You’re all of it.”

His mouth found my neck again, sucking, licking, biting softly as if he couldn’t get enough. I melted into him, ruined, his arms like iron bands, his body still hard and buried deep, his obsession searing into me with every broken vow.

And then, before I could catch my breath, he surged up from the chair, lifting me with him, still buried inside me. I gasped, clinging to his shoulders, my legs cinching tighter around his waist as the movement forced him even deeper.

“Alex-”

“Shhh.” His voice was wrecked, his mouth at my ear as he staggered the few steps across the room. “Stay exactly where you are.”

He lowered us onto the velvet sofa, collapsing back with me straddling him, still impaled, still full. His chest heaved beneath mine, damp with sweat, his arms refusing to loosen as he wrapped me tighter against him.

I whimpered, trembling, wrecked. “You’re still-”

“Inside you,” he finished, his hips rolling once, obscene and shallow. “Exactly where I belong.”

His hands slid up my back, one gripping the nape of my neck, the other spread wide across my spine, holding me flush to him as if I might vanish. His lips pressed to my temple, frantic and rough, his voice a hoarse growl.

“You’ll sleep like this,” he muttered, almost delirious. “On me. Around me. Because I need to feel you locked to me, Caitríona. I need to know you’re mine.”

I melted against him, boneless, his words sinking into my skin as deeply as his cock. His arms were unyielding, his obsession seared through every touch, every breath.

My body sagged against his, too spent to move, too full to think. His cock was still buried deep, but his thrusts were gone, replaced with the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath me.

Then his hands moved. Not to push me away, but to claim me further. He caught the hem of my dress, bunching it in his fists. “Arms up,” he murmured, voice rough but low.

I blinked, dazed, but obeyed. My arms lifted weakly, and he peeled the fabric up my body, over my head, baring me inch by inch. He tossed it aside, the soft whisper of silk hitting the floor beside us.

His eyes burned, even softened by exhaustion, and with one sharp flick he unclasped my bra, sliding it off in a single move like it had never belonged there. My breasts pressed against his chest, skin to skin, his warmth wrapping me whole.

“There,” he whispered, almost reverent, his palm smoothing down my bare back, anchoring me to him.

His lips brushed my temple, softer now, lingering.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered, voice gentled into smoke. “Just breathe with me.”

I melted into him, the firelight warming my back, his arms enclosing me in steel and safety.

“You’re safe here,” he murmured, mouth ghosting over my hairline. “Always.”

The words sank deep, low and steady, wrapping around me like his arms. I felt my body unravel, the trembling ebbing, my breaths syncing to his, slower, calmer.

His grip never loosened, but the fury was gone. All that was left was the weight of him beneath me, the steady drum of his heart, the way he held me like I was the only thing that had ever mattered.

And in that cocoon of firelight, skin, and him, sleep stole me before I could fight it.

---

---

I woke to soft, slow kisses brushing my temple. Then my cheek. Each one deliberate, reverent. Each one dragging me out of sleep like he was coaxing me, not waking me.

“Alex…” My voice was groggy, husky, heavy with exhaustion.

“Shhh.” His lips ghosted another kiss against my jaw, lingering there. His voice came low, tender but edged with possession. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

Before I could answer, he shifted. I felt the shift of muscle under me, the roll of his body as he rose from the sofa in one smooth motion. His arms wrapped beneath me, one under my thighs, the other firm around my back, drawing me against the solid breadth of his chest.

He moved without effort, every step slow, unhurried, devastatingly sure. My body swayed with the rhythm of his stride, my cheek pressed to the solid heat of his chest.

The firelight dwindled behind us, shadows licking across the walls of his office until they gave way to the cooler hush of night. A faint draft kissed the back of my thighs, raising goosebumps, and he only held me tighter, his lips brushing over my hairline in a tender graze.

Then, without a sound but the shift of hinges, he pushed through a door I hadn’t noticed before, seamless in the paneled wall.

We passed through, and I blinked as the shadows shifted into familiar lines. My suite.

“Alex…” My voice was barely a whisper, fogged with drowsiness.

His lips brushed my temple, lingering. “I had them join us,” he murmured, his voice low velvet. “So I could always bring you home.”

My heart stumbled in my chest even as my eyes grew heavy again.

He lowered me into the sheets with devastating care, easing the blankets over me, tucking me in like something breakable. His hand lingered on my hair, smoothing it back, his thumb tracing slow over my temple.

“You’re so damn beautiful like this,” he whispered, almost reverent. “Soft. Safe. Mine.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “You sound… addicted.”

His laugh was low, quiet, brushing against my skin as he kissed the corner of my mouth. “Oh I am.”

My eyes fluttered closed, but I felt him move. The warm shift of air as he peeled his T-shirt over his head, the faint scrape of denim sliding down his legs. When the mattress dipped beside me, I instinctively curled toward him, seeking his heat.

He pulled me against his bare chest, wrapping me tight, his chin brushing my hair. His hand slipped under the blanket, wide palm spreading across my ribs, thumb stroking slow, hypnotic circles against my skin.

“Perfect fit,” he murmured, tucking me closer still. “Like you were carved for my arms.”

I sighed, sleepy and content, nuzzling into him. “Bossy even in bed.”

“Not bossy,” he whispered against my ear. “Grateful.” Another kiss, soft at my jaw. “You don’t even know what you’ve given me, Caitríona.”

I mumbled something incoherent, half-lost to sleep already.

His lips curved against my hairline. “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

---

I surfaced slowly, somewhere between dream and waking, the sheets warm, the room still hushed with early light.

And him.

The heat of his body at my back, his arm heavy around my waist, his breath steady at my neck. But what really woke me was lower, hard and insistent, pressed against the curve of my bum.

“Alex…” My voice was still thick with sleep, muffled against the pillow.

His chuckle rumbled low against my shoulder, lazy and satisfied. “Morning,” His lips brushed my hairline, then my temple, trailing soft, unhurried kisses as if he’d been waiting for me to stir.

I squirmed, half-hearted, tugging the blanket higher. “Too early. Go back to sleep.”

“Seven o’clock isn’t early,” he murmured, tightening his arm around me, pulling me tighter against him until I could feel exactly how awake he was. “Besides…” His mouth brushed the shell of my ear, warm and teasing. “I’ve been lying here since six, watching you dream.”

My eyes cracked open, one groggy squint at the sliver of daylight slipping through the curtains. “You watched me sleep for an hour?”

“Worth every second,” he said simply, nuzzling into my neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I groaned, burying my face deeper in the pillow to smother a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Accurate,” he corrected, his hand sliding down to my hip, fitting me snugger against him. “And painfully hard.”

That pulled a laugh out of me, even through my sleep-heavy haze. “God, you’re insufferable in the morning.”

His teeth grazed my shoulder, slow and deliberate, before he kissed the sting away. “And yet you’re still here, in my bed. Wrapped in me.”

I wriggled against him on purpose, my lips curving when his breath hitched. “Maybe I like tormenting you.”

His groan vibrated against my neck, deep and low. “Careful, baby. That’s a dangerous game to play when I’m already hard enough to split you in two.”

My laugh was sleepy, muffled against the pillow. “All talk.”

His hand tightened on my hip, pulling me snugger against him. His lips brushed my ear, velvet and lethal all at once. “I’ve been waiting an hour. Every fucking minute of it I’ve imagined what it feels like to wake you with my cock inside you.”

Heat spiked through me, my eyes fluttering open, no longer so sleepy. “Alex…”

“Mmm?” His mouth trailed lazy kisses down my neck, the scrape of his teeth making my toes curl under the sheets.

“That is not how alarm clocks work.”

He smiled against my skin. “Mine does.” His palm glided up my ribs, thumb ghosting the curve of my breast. “It only has one setting.”

“And what’s that?”

“Come here.”

He hummed, pleased. “There she is. Awake.” His hips rolled once, obscene and unhurried, the hard line of him dragging a gasp from my throat. “And warm for me.”

“I should…” I tried, uselessly, even as my thighs tightened.

“You should what?” He kissed the corner of my jaw, lazy menace in every brush. “Tell me you’ve got someplace better to be than under me?”

“Can’t you just behave.”

“Darling,” he breathed, mouth curving, “I am behaving. I’m asking.” His nose skimmed mine. “Say no and I’ll lie here and count your freckles till you fall back asleep.” A whisper of a pause. “Say yes and I’ll replace the dream you were having.”

My pulse tripped hard. “What if I don’t remember the dream?”

“I do.” His voice dropped, sinful-soft. “You were making the same sounds you make when I’m deep.”

I swallowed; he felt it beneath his mouth and smiled like he’d won something precious. His hand slid, proprietary, to my thigh.

“Choose,” he said, low and quiet, like a dare wrapped in silk. “Freckles. Or me.”

I pretended to think. It lasted all of a heartbeat.

“You,” I whispered.

His mouth hovered, wicked and reverent. “Good girl.” And when he kissed me. Slow, coaxing, grinding harder against me. Sleep vanished like it had never existed. Only him.

My darlings, before you slip away into the rest of your night, come sit with me for a moment. I poured my whole pulse into this chapter, and I’d love to hear how it landed in yours.

Your thoughts aren’t just welcome, they’re cherished. Leave me a note… I’m waiting to read every word.

A💋