Chapter 192: Lost in storm
Chapter 192: Lost in storm
The morning sun filtered through the curtains of the but Quinn felt no warmth from it. She paced the length of the room, her mind replaying the humiliation in the library over and over. She was convinced it had been Jose who saw her, Jose, the man who had ignited this fire in her and then left her to burn. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that smirk. She felt like a glass vase that had been dropped; she was still standing, but the cracks were everywhere.
She was sitting at the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, when the door swung open.
There was no knock. There was no warning. One of the twins stepped into the room, his presence immediately sucking the air out of the space. Quinn looked up, her heart jumping into her throat. He looked identical to the man who had haunted her dreams—the same broad shoulders, the same sharp, god-like jawline, and the same dark, piercing eyes.
She assumed it was Jose. She assumed he had come back to finish the psychological torture he had started.
"Get out," she whispered, though her voice lacked any real conviction. Her "strong will" was a distant memory, replaced by the brain lock that always took hold when one of them was near.
He didn't say a word. He didn't smirk this time. Instead, there was an intensity in his gaze that felt different, more urgent, more primal. He moved toward her with a predatory grace, closing the distance before she could even stand up. The heat radiating off him was like a physical wall, making her skin prickle and her breath catch.
When he reached her, he didn't hesitate. He reached out, his large hand cupping her jaw and tilting her face up to meet his. Quinn tried to pull away, but her body betrayed her. She was melting under his touch, her body turning to water. The craving she had felt for days reached a breaking point.
"You've been waiting for this," he murmured. His voice was a low, dark vibration that sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core.
He couldn't help himself. Seeing her there, looking so broken yet so defiant, something snapped in him. He leaned down and took her mouth into his in a heated, demanding kiss. It wasn't the "sweet abuse" from before; it was a claim. It was an explosion of all the tension that had been building since she arrived in Australia.
Quinn found herself melting into him against her command. Her hands, which should have been pushing him away, found their way into his hair, pulling him closer. She loved every part of it, the weight of him, the scent of him, the way he completely overwhelmed her senses. For the first time in days, the restlessness vanished, replaced by a singular, burning focus. The thought of Ace or the seven sins a distance memory in her mind.
He moved her back onto the bed, his body following hers, never breaking the contact. In that moment, Quinn didn't care about the games, the lies, or the fact that she was a prisoner in a gilded cage. She only cared about the man holding her.
But as he moved with a ferocity that left her breathless, a tiny, flickering thought crossed her mind. The man in the library had smirked and left. This man was here, and he was taking everything she had to give. The energy was the same but different from the person who had taken her the first time.
She was lost in the storm, unaware that while she thought she was finally finding release with her tormentor, she was actually being claimed by the other half of the duo. The twin who had watched her from the shadows was no longer content to just watch.
When the intense foreplay and fumbling was finally over, he didn't stay to talk. He didn't offer explanations. He simply stood up, adjusted his clothes with a cold, terrifying efficiency, and walked toward the door. He paused at the threshold, looking back at her mush body tangled on the bed.
"Try not to forget who you belong to," he said softly, before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Quinn lay there, her heart still racing, her body finally at peace but her mind more confused than ever, she cumed only from making out and it was so embarrassing. But the man... she was certain it was Jose. She had to be. But the lingering feeling in the room didn't feel like fire; it felt like the deep, crushing weight of an ocean.