Page 49 of Nowhere to Run

A gasp caught in my throat as the realization sank in. Why would he spend so much on me?

“Why?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His expression softened, a vulnerability flashing in his eyes—so quick, I almost missed it.

“Because you’re special,” he said simply. “I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

Before I could respond, he gestured for me to stand. Leading me to the mirror, he fastened the necklace at my throat.

The gold and ruby gleamed against my skin, the deep red stone stark against the raw marks left by his belt.

“Why a rose?” I asked, my tone cautious, half-expecting some teasing remark comparing it to a part of my body.

But he surprised me.

“Because of that poem you wrote. In high school.”

I blinked, struggling to remember. Then it came to me—the piece I’d written for English class that got published in the school newspaper. Comparing people to roses. Delicate. Their thorns capable of inflicting pain. Yet still carrying a quiet sweetness, despite their danger.

Emotion swelled in my chest, and I spun to face him, my eyes misting. His gaze locked onto mine—intense, unrelenting. But beneath it, there was something unspoken. A question. A hope.

He lifted my chin, his thumb brushing over my jaw.

Then he kissed me—deep and claiming, stealing the breath from my lungs, his tongue invading my mouth, mingling with mine. His kiss was as hungry as his body had been earlier, a raw, possessive need that sent heat pooling low in my stomach. I moaned into him, surrendering. Letting him have all of me.

Finally, I pulled back, my eyes wet, heart hammering. A sudden rush of emotion welled up, raw and overwhelming. I pounded my fists against his chest, desperate, shaking.

“Why didn’t you—why weren’t you like this from the start?” I sobbed, tears slipping past my lashes. My hands balled into fists, pressing into his solid strength. “Why? Why torment me for years?”

Silence. A long, suffocating pause. Then, his hands moved to my wrists, gently prying me open, baring my chest to him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. His voice was low, almost uncertain. But his grip was sure.

“This is me. Who I am.” He exhaled, his fingers brushing my jaw, voice dropping to a charged whisper. “I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

A promise. A plea. “I’ll take you on dates, buy you roses. Jewelry. I’ll give you everything.” His hands slid lower, possessive. Wanting. “I want all of you.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering at my jaw, his touch deceptively tender. Then his lips parted and his voice turned to silk, rich and deadly.

“But don’t think for a second,” he murmured, “that I’d ever let you go.”

His thumb dragged slowly over my lower lip, his voice turning velvety, dangerous. “Even if you fight me, even if you run… I’ll always catch you.”

His hand slid down, gripping my ass, firm but possessive. Not a threat, but a claim.

I glanced up, my breath hitching despite myself. That face—gorgeous, masculine, all sharp lines and brooding intensity—it was a trap. A beautifully constructed snare I didn’t know how to escape.

A thrill coursed through me as his eyes locked onto mine, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. The bastard knew exactly what he did to me. And he loved it.

My breathing quickened, thoughts spiraling. How could I crave his dominance, his control, after everything he’d done to me?

And then there was Ryan. A pang of guilt twisted in my gut. Sweet, patient Ryan. He made me feel special, cherished. He’d honored my wish to wait, never pushing my boundaries. He was everything Adrian wasn’t—safe, steady, predictable. Could I even go back to him after all this? Could I pretend Adrian hadn’t rewritten something inside me?

Adrian stepped closer, pulling me into his arms, his hands moving over my body, with slow, deliberate carasesses, each touch igniting a fire that I wasn’t sure I wanted to distinguish.

“Let me make you feel good,” he murmured, easing me back onto the bed. His hands glided over me with practiced precision, massaging every knot, every ache. The tension in my body unraveled beneath his touch and a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.

In that moment, I realized it didn’t matter. Logic, reason—none of it stood a chance against him. Right now, I was choosing Adrian. Maybe tomorrow I’d regret it, once the ache of everything he’d done settled in. But for now, I let myself go, surrendering to the sensations as they washed over me, drowning out the questions, the guilt, and everything else.

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