Page 21 of Imprisoned Obsession

Good, I think. I want to say it out loud and watch disappointment smack his handsome face, but I bite my tongue. I let the exasperation run fiercely in my veins.

Being mindful of how I act and what I say so as not to offend him means more freedom for me.

“Go on,” he urges with another questionable smile. “It’s impolite to be late for class.”

I shakily gather the straps and clench them to distract myself. The edges cut into my trembling fingers as I slide towards the door.

“Willa.”

His smile is genuine, yet there’s always something missing. I can’t put my finger on what it is. In a way, it’s a good thing. It grounds me to reality, so I don’t warp into his fairy tale scheme.

The dreadful silence nips the back of my neck as he smiles blankly. A lump of reluctant desire simmers warmly under my skin as I slowly turn towards him.

Approval shines in the glowing amber eyes as I glance down to his curled lips.

Why am I entertaining the idea of kissing him?

The carnal answer is because I want to. The more complicated answer involves the conflict between what my body craves and what my brain thinks.

“No ulterior motives, darling.” Elio tilts his head as a strand of soft hair sweeps the side of his face.

Forgive me for not believing him.

I can do this. He has kissed me many times, and his lips aren’t strangers to mine. I’m still nervous since this is the first time I’m instigating it. He’s insisting that I take the initiative, silently nudging me to overcome my stubbornness.

“I’m waiting,” he notes while tilting his massive body towards me.

“What if I don’t want to… kiss you?” I squeak gruffly as my voice trails off.

A blush rises to my face. I sink my teeth into the side of my cheek to stop myself from squirming with embarrassment. I hate him for making me question everything I feel. It’s not fair. He’s not supposed to make my heart flutter lovingly.

I attribute it to his unusually handsome face. I’ve never seen anyone this attractive, yet devilishly rugged. He presents a sophisticated demeanor as a criminal defense attorney yet has a sadistic streak as a blood-thirsty warrior.

I’m with him against my will.

“Are you unwell, darling girl?” he asks with a surprisingly heavy tone of concern. “We can return home for the day.”

Frenzied chills skip down my spine as I rapidly shake my head. I awkwardly extend my body to him and press my lips against his without thinking twice about the subliminal message.

I lose a fragment of my pride, and he gains the essence of my submission.

“Goodbye,” I blurt as I throw myself out of his car.

The door slams behind me, and I nearly sprint away with mortification spreading across my cheeks. I mumble apologies to everyone I bump into but don’t dare to look over my shoulder.

An image of him smiling in triumph makes me frown.

My hurried steps falter before I come to a stop. I pinch my arm and hiss through the blossoming pain. Rubbing the soreness away, I squeak out a strangled scream.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I question under my breath.

Is this what a mid-life crisis is?

Honestly, I don’t even know what I don’t know. It’s like standing in the middle of a blank canvas with no colorful brushstrokes to guide me.

This is what he wants. Elio has carefully planned and manipulated me into being incapable of thinking for myself.

I, like the stupid girl I am, fell into the most obvious trap. He told me the outcome in different words, but the same message was there.

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