Chapter 23: Chapter Twenty-two

He walked slowly around the desk to where she was curled up in his chair. The sight stopped him in his tracks. She looked so small there, folded in on herself, her cheek flushed and pressed against the armrest, her knees tucked up. Her breathing was soft and steady, her long lashes brushing her skin as she slept.

Something pulled at his chest as he bent down on one knee before her. He wanted to see her face more clearly, to memorize every line and detail. The perfect shape of her lips, soft and almost pouty, the small nose, the delicate features that looked so innocent yet stirred something wild in him. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he even realized it.

She did something to him. Something no one else had ever done.

And as he looked at her in the tiniest bum short pants and that fitted black tank top, his body stirred. His cock rose sharply, straining against his trousers, and his throat went dry with need.

Without thinking, almost desperately, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft at first, then demanding, as if he needed it to breathe. He lost himself for a moment in the taste of her.

But then she made a small, sleepy sound — a soft hum that sent more electricity to his dick. But he froze, pulled back sharply, and stared at her. She was still asleep, still unaware of what he wanted to do to her. He let out a shaky breath and clenched his jaw. With all the control he had, he stopped himself from going further. She was still very sore from last time, and although it would take much from him, he would still let her be tonight. Just tonight.

He stood, then bent again to lift her carefully into his arms. She stirred and sighed, but didn’t wake. She was light, almost too light, and he carried her down the hall to his own room. He didn’t even think about taking her to hers. No, he wanted her close. He wanted her where he could watch her, in his arms.

He laid her gently on his bed and tucked the blanket around her. For a long moment he just stood there, staring down at her, then with a heavy sigh he went to shower. The hot water hit his back, but it didn’t wash away the image of her mouth or the sound of her sleepy hum.

Minutes later, he returned, wearing only sweatpants. He slipped into bed beside her and pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips to her hair. She smelled of faint soap and something that was purely her.

Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, his voice low, rough with restraint.

“I won’t take you tonight, baby. Sleep.”

And with that, he gathered her tightly against him and closed his eyes.

She woke in the middle of the night, disoriented. At first she didn’t know where she was, then the heaviness of his arms around her reminded her. She blinked, trying to move, but he only tightened his hold.

“Hm?” he murmured, half asleep.

“I’m… I’m hungry,” she whispered, almost afraid to wake him.

His arms loosened reluctantly. “Go. But come back to my bed when you’re done.”

She swallowed hard and nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “I will.”

She slipped out of the bed and padded softly to the kitchen. The house was quiet, too quiet, her bare feet soundless on the tiles. She opened the fridge, searching for something she could eat quickly, without cooking.

Her hand closed around a loaf of sliced bread. She grabbed a couple of slices and found some cheese. Simple. Quick. She sat at the counter, eating slowly, chewing while her thoughts swirled.

Was this her life now? Was she just going to be his plaything? Someone he kissed when he wanted, held when he wanted, fucked when he wanted and left when he wanted? She couldn’t understand why her heart beat faster every time he was near, why she couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes, his voice, the way he looked at her.

But she also couldn’t deny the unease.

Finishing her bread and cheese, she pushed the plate aside and rubbed her temples. Instead of going back to his room, as he had told her, she turned the other way and slipped into her own room. She crawled into her bed and pulled the blanket over her head, her mind heavy with questions.

What was he going to do this time when he realized she hadn’t returned?

Morning light spilled into the room when she stirred. She yawned, stretched, and blinked slowly… only to freeze.

This wasn’t her room.

Her head turned slowly. She was back in his bed, tucked beneath his blanket again. Unease flared in her chest as she sat up sharply.

And then she saw him. He was sitting in the corner of the room, one leg bent, his elbow resting casually, his gaze fixed on her. Watching her silently.

Her stomach knotted. His eyes were unreadable, his face blank, but his presence filled the room so strongly that she felt smothered.

Her voice cracked as she asked, “What am I doing here? Why… why did you bring me back while I was sleeping?”

He didn't answer. He just kept looking at her, his eyes drifting lazily to her hair. It was scattered, messy from sleep. And in his mind he was imagining his fingers buried in it, twisting it, pulling it.

“Did you hear me?” she asked again, her tone sharper this time, trying to draw him out of that silence.

He didn’t move. But then slowly, so slowly, a smile curved his lips. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You,” he said softly, almost amused. “You’re very stubborn. Rebellious even. You never listen to me.”

Her heart thumped. She gripped the blanket closer to her chest, uncertain, restless.

He stood then. Tall, broad, commanding. His upper body was bare, his glory on full display, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from darting away in embarrassment.

He started walking toward the bed, unhurried, each step deliberate. His gaze locked on hers, never wavering, and she felt her pulse quicken with every inch he drew closer.

Her heart jumped, unease crawling up her spine as he came closer, closer, until he was right before her. Breath to breath. Taking her space.

His eyes pinned her in place, and her lips parted but no words came.

And then he stopped, inches away...