Page 36 of Nowhere to Run

“I own you now,” he growled, his voice low, rough, possessive.

“You better stop running. Stop your threats. Stop ignoring me. Because you’re mine. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

His words landed like a weight, pressing me into the mattress, sinking into my bones.

A part of me wanted to scream.

To tell him I decided who I fuck. Who I let into my life. But I couldn’t. Not when my body ached for him. Not when my pussy throbbed, clenched around his cock, pulling him in deeper. Each thrust pulled a moan from my lips.

“I’m yours,” I gasped, the words tumbling out, carried by a relentless tide of pleasure that drowned rational thought.

A slow, wicked grin stretched across his face.

Menacing. Triumphant.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low.

“But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off the hook that easy.”

Chapter Seven

Still buried deep inside me, his grin faltered. His head tilted, studying me like a puzzle he couldn’t quite piece together.

“You left the other morning without saying goodbye,” he murmured, shaking his head. A slow, mocking tsk slipped from his lips.

“I was going to make you breakfast and everything.”

A sharp pang of guilt twisted inside me, unwelcome and unjustified.But why should I feel guilty?I didn’t owe him anything. His expectations for loyalty, for obedience, for submission were maddening. But I wasn’t about to challenge him. Not yet.

I shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

“You… looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you,” I lied, my voice tight but steady.

His thrusts slowed. Measured. Calculated. But he was still as hard as steel inside me. As if my nervousness only spurred him on.

A slow shake of his head. A smirk.

“Liar, liar.”

His fingers traced my jaw, deceptively gentle.

“Such a bad girl.”

His voice dipped lower, thick with amusement.

“And the worst part? You’re so damn good at it.”

His eyes darkened. Something flashed there—raw and fleeting.

Vulnerability? Maybe.

Then—his expression hardened again.

“If you really told Ryan you need a break,” he said, his voice like a blade, slicing through the moment. “You wouldn’t mind showing me your texts.”

He stilled. Completely. His cock buried deep inside me. Like a weapon. A warning. His gaze locked onto mine–dark and unreadable.

Waiting.

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