Chapter 138 Surrendering To Him
The word 'unlovable' echoed in the high ceilings of the dining room, mocking her. She looked at the cold lobster, the discarded flight tickets, and then down at her trembling hands.
She wasn't going to lose him. Not to her father’s ego, and certainly not to the memory of Arabella.
“No…”
Her eyes snapped open, throwing into the reality where she was losing Luke again by her own choices.
She trembled. But, not from fear.
She was trembling from the sudden, terrifying realization that she was losing the only thing her very soul sought, that felt real, that she wished for.
"Don't you dare," she breathed, her voice cracking before it turned into a low, desperate snarl.
Luke was halfway to the door when she sprinted.
She didn't just stop him, she threw herself against his back, her arms locking around his waist with a strength that surprised them both.
She pressed her face into the heat of his spine, her breath hitching, eyes overflowing with a hopelessness that turned her anguish into rage.
"You don't get to walk away," she hissed, her fingers digging into the expensive fabric of his shirt, refusing to create any distance.
"You don't get to decide this is over."
Luke stiffened, his muscles like iron under her touch, "Let go, Peach."
"No!" She spun around him, placing herself between him and the exit.
The determination to never let go gleamed, panting heavily, her fingers locked around him firmly, exposing her only weakness- Him.
The ‘Successor’ was gone. In her place was a woman who was willing to burn the world down to keep her prize.
She pressed her body flush against his, a deliberate, provocative challenge. Forcing him to witness the tears and madness, existing only for him.
"We have taken a vow. Only death can do us apart, Luke Grayson. You better not walk away from your woman."
Luke raised his brows, patiently waiting for her to shatter all her limits and show him explicitly how much he means to her.
She reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his head back until he was forced to drown in her gaze.
"You want me to be your wife?" she whispered, her voice a mix of a threat and a promise, brushing her lips against his.
"Fine. Look at me. Don't look at the files. Don't look at the door. Look at me. Lock the door. Shut me out from the world."
She didn't wait for him to answer. She crashed her lips against his, a kiss that tasted of wine, tobacco, and desperation.
It wasn't an apology, it was a claim, a desperate attempt to ensure she won’t lose what she managed to obtain after years of struggling.
She was showing him that no matter how much she loved her work, she would never let him go. That he was above all.
Luke’s jaw clenched, pulling away from her breathlessly, dominantly.
"You think this fixes it?”
He backed her against the wall, cold concrete was a sharp contrast to the furnace of his body pressing into hers, controlling her breaths by his hand around her throat.
His eyes narrowed strictly, "You think you can just buy my silence with this?"
"I'm not buying anything," Peach gasped, her head falling back.
"I am reminding you who I belong to. And who belongs to me." She breathed, holding his wrist to free herself, resting her head over his chest, embracing him tightly.
Luke’s grip tightened, his breath hot against her ear, "Then prove it," he hissed, his voice a lethal demand.
"I will burn every file in that room if it means you stay."
He tasted the desperation in her, the way she clung to him, the greed to capture him, she was demanding his acceptance.
The anger that had fueled him all night didn't vanish- it transformed. It became a dark, possessive heat that burned through his veins.
He lifted her from the ground, leading her towards their bed with a thick, uncontrollable desire gleaming in his eyes, crashing their lips once again hungrily.
He threw her down, shifting on top of her, pressing her down, melting her into his weight, turning her on by the spark between them.
His hands slid lower, tracing the curve of her hip with a possessive ferocity, letting her sense his arousal and longing.
Peach felt the change. She felt the moment his control snapped, he stopped pulling away and started pulling her in.
She broke the kiss just long enough to gasp for air, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded, holding transparent fear of losing him.
“I am yours. All yours, Luke. Nothing is above my man,” She whispered, her lips against his cheek.
Pressing a peck on the corner of his lips, leading gradually to his neck, unbuttoning his shirt to display her desperation and need.
“I don’t think you deserve it yet.”
“Please…” She pleaded, her leg lifting to brush it against his thigh, showing her unstoppable heat surging rapidly all under her skin.
He held her wrists, pinning them above her head, locking her perfectly in place before shifting back a little in order to admire the woman who wholeheartedly accepted the jail of his body.
"From now on," Luke whispered, sucking onto her enticing neck, imprinting his mark to ensure she won’t ever forget with one demand.
"When I tell you to sit, you sit. When I tell you to come home, you're already at the door. Do you understand, Peach?"
Peach shivered, her body betraying her as it hummed with a frantic, electrified energy.
Being dominated by him induced a strong lust, her soul unwillingly submitted, nodding hastily, she was willing to do anything for his proximity.
"Yes, Luke, I understand," she whimpered.
Her fingers twitching in his iron grip, a silent tear rolling down as she had never found herself this… desperate before.
"Good." He let out a low, dark chuckle that sent a fresh wave of heat through her.
Driving her wild at his dominance, he was showing her she was… his. It was no less than a dream for her.
"Because if I see you look at a laptop before you look at me tomorrow morning, I will show you exactly how 'unlovable' I can be." He warned sternly before proceeding.
“Such circumstances won’t arrive, I promise.” She murmured, a promise more to herself than him..
He took her mouth again with a triumphant smirk, his dominance absolute, dragging her body into his as the reports downstairs sat forgotten in the dark.
He had won.
He could feel it in the way she melted against him, her body a silent surrender.
She had finally chosen him over the ghost of her father’s approval, and he was going to make sure she never forgot the cost of that choice.