Tell Me To Stop

Tell Me To Stop
“Do you want me to kiss you again?”

This was the man who had taken her, stripped her from her life, forced her into his world. The man she was supposed to despise, to fear.

But her gaze fell to his lips—full, slightly parted, begging to be claimed or to claim her.

And then back to his eyes—smoldering, predatory, desperate.

Hot.

Wanting.

Their breaths mingled, the distance between them growing thinner, vanishing like smoke in the wind.

She blinked.

And then he moved—fast, sudden, like a wolf striking its prey.

His mouth crashed into hers, rough and unyielding, a clash of fire and ice, hatred and desire.

His hand gripped the back of her neck, anchoring her to him as if he were afraid she’d slip away. Her fingers curled into his shirt, not to push him away—but to pull him closer.

It was a kiss that tasted like war.

And she hated how much she wanted to lose the battle.

They parted.

The moment hung between them—thick, electric, alive.

Seraphina’s breath came shallow, her chest heaving against the thin fabric of her dress, but she didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Adolphus was close enough that the heat of his body seeped into hers, his hand still cradling the back of her neck like he was both holding her steady and keeping himself from falling apart.

His thumb grazed the edge of her jaw, a barely-there touch, but it sent a violent shiver rolling down her spine.

“Seraphina,” he rasped, voice hoarse with restraint—a warning, a plea.

Her name sounded sinful on his lips.

She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on his mouth—those full, wicked lips she’d already tasted once. And gods, she’d liked it. More than liked it.

His golden eyes darkened as if he could scent her desire in the air between them.

“Tell me to stop,” Adolphus said softly, but his voice trembled, a man at the breaking point. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Instead, she tilted her head just enough—just a breath closer.

It was all he needed.

He crushed his mouth to hers, a bruising, desperate kiss that shattered the last thread of restraint holding them apart.

Seraphina gasped against him, but the sound was swallowed by his lips, by the way his teeth grazed her lower lip before his tongue slid past the seam of her mouth, claiming her, tasting her like he was a starving man and she was the only thing keeping him alive.

Her fingers shot to his hair—thick, dark, and just long enough for her to grab a fistful—and she tugged.

Adolphus groaned, the sound guttural and raw, vibrating through her, making her knees buckle.

He caught her, one strong arm looping around her waist, dragging her against his hard, unyielding body.

She felt every inch of him—solid muscle, searing heat, and a need that matched her own.

“Seraphina,” he muttered into her mouth, the syllables slurred between kisses, rough and wanting. “Say my name again.”

She tore her lips from his, her chest heaving, and whispered, “Adolphus…”

It was barely a whisper, but it undid him.

With a growl, he backed her into the wall, his hand sliding from her waist down to the curve of her hip, his fingers digging in just enough to remind her that he was losing control.

“Tell me I can have you,” he breathed, his lips skimming along her jaw, down her neck, where he pressed an open-mouthed kiss over the frantic beat of her pulse. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Her head tipped back, a soft moan escaping her lips as his teeth scraped along her throat—not hard, just enough to make her body ignite, to make her clutch his hair tighter.

“Adolphus,” she gasped, “please—”

He pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing ragged.

“Please, what?” he asked, his voice barely human now, a growl of pure need. “Say it, Seraphina. Tell me.”

Her fingers trembled against his chest, her mind spinning, her body betraying her every logical thought.

“I want you to kiss me again,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I want—”

He didn’t let her finish.

His lips crashed into hers once more, rougher, deeper, as if the first kiss had only awakened the hunger now threatening to consume them both. His tongue teased hers, coaxing her into the rhythm of him—demanding, desperate, but so, so good.

His hand slid beneath her jaw again, angling her head to give him better access. He drank her in—her soft moans, her gasping breaths, the way her body arched into him.

And then, a growl rumbled deep in his chest, and he tore his mouth from hers—just long enough to whisper against her lips.

“You’re mine, Seraphina,” he said, his voice dark, possessive. “And I’m never letting you go.”

And gods help her—she didn’t want him to.

The room still buzzed with the aftermath of their kiss — the kind of kiss that stole the air from her lungs and left her body trembling with want.

Seraphina’s lips were still swollen, her breath uneven, her mind an absolute wreck.

Adolphus had kissed her like he was drowning and she was the only thing keeping him afloat — wild, unrelenting, and entirely too much.

And yet… not enough.

She didn’t know how long they stayed there, tangled together, his forehead resting against hers, their bodies pressed so close it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began. But then, Adolphus pulled back.

Her chest ached at the sudden distance, and she hated that. Hated how her heart screamed for him to come back.

“I have something for you,” he whispered, his voice still rough with desire.

She blinked, still dazed, still burning, still furious with herself for feeling so utterly wrecked by him.

He left the bed — a flash of heat disappearing into the cool air — and crossed the room, his back rigid, his jaw tight like he was battling something within himself.

Her mind spun in his absence.

What the hell was she doing?