Page 12 of You're Mine Now

My cheeks burned, and I dropped my gaze, staring at the floor as shame tightened my throat.

“I want to,” he whispered. For a moment, his voice softened, almost tender.

I chanced a look up at him, my heart fluttering. But the softness was already gone. His face had hardened, that wicked smile returning.

“I want a lot more than that. I want everything. And tonight, I’m taking it. Whether you want to give it to me or not.”

Reality crashed over me, cold and suffocating. My breath came faster as his hands moved to my back, his fingers skillfully unhooking my bra. I gasped as his hands cupped me, his low moan vibrating, sending an unwanted thrill through me as he squeezed my breasts and pinched my nipples.

Tears pricked my eyes as I stood frozen. There was no leaving. He would have his way with me tonight, and there was nothing I could do about it.

He lifted my tank top over my head and tossed it aside, my bra falling to the floor with it. He stepped back to take me in, and I instinctively covered myself.

“Don’t you dare,” he snapped, brushing my arms away with firm hands. “Let me see you.”

My skin prickled under his penetrating stare, my cheeks burning as his eyes darkened. His hand slipped to the front of his shorts, stroking himself through the fabric, the movement slow and deliberate.

“Even more amazing than I imagined,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice thick with need. “Your body’s a work of art.”

He began circling me like a shark narrowing in on its prey, his footsteps measured, his presence overpowering.

“Get those pants off—I need to see that ass,” he growled, his voice rough with command.

A shaky breath escaped as I stood there, exposed. I couldn’t let him do this.

“You had your look. You copped a feel. That’s enough,” I protested, my voice unsteady. “I’m leaving.”

He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face. “Take them off. Now,” he said through gritted teeth. His tone dropped, dangerous and final. “You don’t want to find out what happens when I’m angry.”

My heart sank, despair clawing at my chest. There was no way out. My hands trembled as I peeled off my yoga pants, feeling them stretch over my curves. The thin black thong beneath was the only layer left between his prying eyes and my bare skin. He stayed behind me, silent, and I could hear his breathing grow heavier, his gaze burning into me. The heat of it was almost tangible, sending a shiver down my spine as I stood there, exposed and trembling.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered as his footsteps approached again, his eyes tracing a path up my side as he returned to face me. “Am I that scary?” he taunted, his smirk curling like a predator toying with its prey.

His imposing stature loomed over me, making my heart race as I wondered what he’d do next.

“Let me see them move,” he said, his voice velvet-soft but dripping with command.

“What?” I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs as the air seemed to thicken around me.

“You came here for a workout, didn’t you?” His grin widened, cruel and calculating, his tone both teasing and predatory. “Time for your cardio. Running on the spot.”

My jaw dropped, but the look in his eyes told me he was dead serious. Reluctantly, I began jogging, my cheeks heating as my body moved under his gaze. I felt ridiculous as my breasts bounced up and down, swaying from side to side. My chest ached—I normally needed an extreme sports bra to keep them in check.

But his eyes widened, his cock straining against his shorts as he watched me.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, stepping closer.

His hand reached out, cupping me as I continued jogging, my breasts bouncing into his palms. He returned a playful smack, sending a jolt through me, his grin widening as his bulge grew.

“Such beautiful big tits,” he mused, his tone thick with satisfaction. “What are you, a double D? You’ve grown since school.”

I blushed, looking down at the floor. A rush of conflicting emotions tightened in my throat. His intensity, his dirty words—everything about him stirred something raw within me. But the way he looked at me—possessive, as though I were his to take—it both thrilled and repelled me. My mind raced back to those disgusting letters. I could never let him win. He couldn’t ever have me.

“Get your hands off me,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “This isn’t what I came here for.”

He chuckled, an edge of cruelty in his voice. “Why did you come here, then? Admit it—you want this. You’ve wanted me since that day on the field.”

I looked down, my resolve wavering. He leaned closer, his expression softening just enough to make my heart skip.

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