Chapter 9 Kiss Me, Elena ....
Elena gasped, her heart racing wildly. She could see a mischievous glint in Elijah’s blue eyes, which had seemed so sluggish before. This man was truly a master at playing with her emotions.
Elijah smirked, a grin he deliberately hid behind his 'innocent' face. In his mind, he had already sent instructions via a text message in his pocket to Marcus.
\[ Marcus, ensure The Crown bar has changed ownership to my name by tomorrow morning. And tell the manager, if Miss Elena comes looking for a man named Elijah, they must report that I am the most hard-working employee there. \]
"Why are you silent, Miss?" Elijah whispered again, his face moving closer to Elena’s neck. "You haven't answered my question. Do I belong to you entirely now?"
Elena felt a heat spreading from her neck to the crown of her head. Elijah's baritone no longer sounded pathetic as it had in the park; instead, it was low, raspy, and incredibly dangerous—like molten chocolate, sweet yet capable of drowning anyone.
"E-Elijah... don't start again," Elena whispered with bated breath. She tried to turn her face away, but Elijah's large, warm hand on her waist seemed to lock down her every motor nerve. Every breath he exhaled near her ear felt like an electric shock, paralyzing her common sense.
Elena clenched her hands against Elijah's broad chest, which was encased in the tight white t-shirt. She could feel his calm heartbeat, a stark contrast to her own, which thudded so violently it felt as if it might jump out.
"Why? Weren't you the one who brought me here? Weren't you the one who wanted to help and protect me?" Elijah drew their bodies even closer until Elena could feel the hardness of the young man's abdominal muscles.
Elijah’s fingers slowly rose, tucking a stray lock of Elena’s hair behind her ear with a gesture that was incredibly gentle yet utterly possessive.
"If I am yours, Miss Vance, then a master must take full responsibility for their property. Isn't that so?" Elijah said again, but this time his tone was undeniably seductive. It seemed Elijah no longer cared if he had to defy the gods themselves to get what he wanted—namely, the woman standing before him.
Elena swallowed hard. She felt like a lamb walking voluntarily into a wolf's den, yet strangely, she didn't want to run. The feeling of being neglected by Morgan and her heartache seemed to be healed by the intensity of Elijah's gaze, which looked at her as if she were the sole center of the universe.
"I... I just want you to be safe. Don't think too far ahead," Elena answered, her voice still trembling.
Elijah let out a small, masculine, and tantalizing laugh. He leaned down a bit further until their lips almost touched. "Safe? Miss, you just placed a lonely young man in a secluded apartment with you. Do you really think that was a 'safe' thing to do?"
Elena couldn't answer. Her brain was paralyzed. She didn't realize that Elijah was enjoying every second of her panic. To him, Elena was the most interesting game he had found in New York.
Elijah took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Elena’s perfume from inches away, then whispered in a more intimate tone, "Don't tell me you've already forgotten what happened last night, Elena."
Elena flinched, her body tensing as Elijah said her name without the "Miss" prefix.
"Maybe you didn't feel it much because you were heavily intoxicated," Elijah continued, his eyes staring deep into Elena's restless pupils. "But me? I was fully conscious. I remember every inch of the curves of your body, every sigh you let out, and how you forced me that night to satisfy you."
Elena’s face turned crimson. She wanted to protest, but a blurred memory of her fiercely pulling Elijah's towel back played in her mind.
Elijah smirked thinly, as if reading her thoughts. He lowered his voice to a near-growl. "You should know one more thing, Miss Vance... You were the first guest to ever sleep with me. I gave everything to you last night, and now you want to pretend nothing happened just by renting this apartment?"
Elena’s eyes widened, her heart seemingly stopping. "First... guest? You're joking, right? You work at that bar, Elijah!"
"I work there, true. But I never sold myself to anyone before you came and pulled me into your bed," Elijah lied with a face that looked hurt yet sincere. "So, technically, you took something very precious from me. How are you going to take responsibility for that?"
Elena was truly lost for words. A massive weight of guilt now crushed her. She hadn't just hired a poor man; in her mind, she had robbed the purity of a man who was struggling to survive.
Without Elena realizing it, Elijah was desperately holding back a victorious laugh. He had just locked Elena into a perfect emotional trap.
"E-Elijah... I didn't know," Elena murmured faintly.
"Then, allow me to help you remember," Elijah whispered before he finally erased the distance between their lips, claiming Elena once more under the roof of the apartment she had rented for him.
Elijah's kiss started like a soft whisper, a hesitant introduction against the surface of Elena’s lips. However, that gentleness was far more dangerous than force. Elena tried to set her jaw, closing off any access for Elijah’s tongue, trying to maintain the remnants of her pride and ego as a woman still bound by a legal marriage.
"Kiss me back, Elena," Elijah murmured between kisses, his voice raspy, heavy, and deep. His lips didn't pull away, sending waves of heat that made the woman's knees go weak.
Elijah's hands, which had been resting still on her waist, began to move wildly. One hand traveled up Elena's back, while the other gently gripped the nape of her neck, forcing her to tilt her head deeper. The scent of Elijah—a blend of sandalwood and clean masculinity—seemed to stuff Elena’s logic.
Elena tried to push against Elijah's chest, but his fingers mischievously began to stroke the sensitive area behind her ear. That touch was a fatal strike. Elena's defenses crumbled instantly. A small sigh escaped her lips, and at that moment, Elijah took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
The thirst for affection she had never received from Morgan exploded there. Elena began to return Elijah's kiss, hesitant at first, but gradually becoming just as demanding. Her fingers, which had been clenched, now crawled up to rake through Elijah’s hair, damp with sweat, pulling him closer to merge with her.
Elijah smirked in the midst of their locked lips. He could feel Elena's ego melting into pure passion.
He guided Elena's body toward the large sofa facing the glass window, letting the view of the New York lights bear witness to how a master was beginning to submit to the control of her "servant."
"Good girl," Elijah whispered as he broke the kiss for a moment just to peck the corner of Elena's reddened lips. "Tonight, let me teach you how to be responsible for the 'property' you've damaged."