Page 15 of Possession

He jumps to his feet. “No fucking reason?” His face contorts, fire burning behind his eyes, and every muscle in his broad shoulders pulls tight, making him seem even more intimidating than normal. “He touched what’s mine!”

I reel back. “Yours?”

“Mine.”

“You don’t own me, Rafael.”

His stare penetrates into my soul, and I swear he sees everything. Every vulnerable moment in my life, every need for the love and affection only he’s capable of bringing, every darkened desire I never knew I wanted, and worse, the need for him to love me when nobody else ever has.

“You don’t own me,” I whisper, not as convincing as previously, because maybe I do want that? Maybe I want to feel him own me, control me, then care for me like no other ever has.

“Wrong. I own every inch of you.” His finger trails down my cheek, and he swipes away a rogue tear. “You just haven’t felt it yet. But you will. When I shove my cock inside your tight little cunt, you’ll feel my possession.” My mouth falls open and my breathing escalates as I try not to react to his filthy words. He runs his palm over my hair tenderly, and once again, I’m reminded of his softer side. My body is at war with my mind, and I melt against his touch. When I so desperately want to give myself over to him, my mind tells me to run, that he’s dangerous and I’m in over my head.

The sound of his phone ringing fills the room, and he steps back, pulling it from his jacket pocket. “Fuck.” He drags a hand through his hair and lifts the phone to his ear. “Yeah, I know, Papa.” He glances toward me. “Yes, of course. I’ll be there shortly.” He ends the call, then clears his throat. “I have to leave. I expect you here when I get home.”

I ignore the flurry of happiness that builds at his use of the word home, and nod. He presses a lingering kiss on the top of my head, then strides toward the door, and I shrug off the feeling of disappointment and grab my school uniform and shove it into my backpack.

Rafael Marino might think he owns me, but I’m no one’s possession.

No matter how much I want to be.

Chapter Eight

Rafael

When my father called me back to the warehouse to continue my duties, for the first time in my life I wanted to say fuck it, fuck him, but I have a responsibility, and Ellie will come to learn my way of life soon enough and accept it. She doesn’t have a choice.

My security team informed me she packed her bag and ordered an Uber to collect her when I left the estate. A fucking Uber!

I ordered them to cancel the Uber, and unbeknownst to her, had one of my drivers take her home. No way in fucking hell am I letting my little doll travel alone with a stranger.

The remainder of my weekend was spent at the warehouse, but now I’m back at home and can give Ellie my full attention. After all, she works for me now; she belongs to me.

I drag a finger over my lip while contemplating my next move. I’ve given her enough time to have her tantrum, and now she needs to accept her responsibilities to me. “Fuck it!” I jerk the steering wheel, doing a complete one-eighty, and ignore the horns from disgruntled drivers. I’m going to fetch my girl. Her father won’t be an issue; he blows through money as quickly as he blows through the young escorts he pays to have on his arm, so he’ll no doubt be grateful Ellie will be earning her own money.

Arriving at her family home, I wince at the lack of security in place. How the hell have I allowed this to happen. She deserves and needs protection, my protection, and she will have it from now on. I place the SUV into park and climb out. There’re no other vehicles here, and I second-guess if she is home like her phone tracker shows.

My security team pulls up behind me, and I ignore them as always and jog up the steps to the front door. Again, I’m stricken by the lack of security. There’s not even a doorbell, for fuck’s sake.

Bringing my fist to the door, I pound on it as annoyance creeps up my spine. I’ve never experienced waiting before, and I don’t enjoy it. “Boss, there’s music playing inside.” Kai tilts his head toward the open upstairs window, and I give him a swift nod. He steps back as I withdraw my handgun from behind my back and aim it at the door jamb, placing one bullet through it until the door opens with ease. Another fucking issue I have with this shitshow of a place she calls a home. I’m becoming more and more riled. None of this is acceptable. None of it.

If her father thinks she’s living here in these conditions, he can think a-fucking-gain.

I swing open the door and take in the empty foyer. The beat of the bass from above echoes in the empty space and has me rushing up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. My pulse thrums with adrenaline and desperation to see her, to reassure myself that she’s okay, to protect her, and ultimately, take her home.

I follow the sound of the loud music and cringe. It sounds like she’s having a fucking party in there. Swinging open the bedroom door, my eyes latch on to the back of Ellie and some punk sitting at a desk. A red haze fills my vision, a fury building inside me so quickly it spills over with an inevitable destruction. The punk wraps his arm around the back of Ellie’s chair, both of them oblivious to my presence. His lips being locked against hers fills me with a murderous rage. His fate is sealed.

Launching myself at him, I roar, and he barely has time to register the action before I smash his head into the desk, then I lift him by his hair and slam him again and again.

Ellie springs up from her chair and hammers her small fist into my arm. “Please, stop. Rafael, stop!” she cries, but I ignore every plea.

I tighten my hold on his hair and drag him out of the chair, throwing him to the floor, and withdraw my gun.

“Oh my God, Rafael! No!” She stands in front of the gun while the piece of shit scrambles back toward the bed, his face coated in blood and snot.

“Step away, Ellie.” I gesture with the gun for her to move.

Her eyes are swimming with tears and her bottom lip quivers, causing a pang of guilt to invade me, but I shove it aside, used to diverting my feelings.He touched what’s mine, and that’s unacceptable.

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