Page 71 of The Dark Obsession

The tiny being keeps pushing me at every turn just like I wanted to push her.

There’s something about her that breaks me a little more with every stolen touch, every heated look. And I don’t know how to deal with the sensation spreading through me by merely thinking about her.

This isn’t just possessiveness or the raw need to own and dominate anymore.

She is fucking tearing me up inside.

I throw open the front door, Malory’s head instantly perking up at the sound of my combat boots clunking against the wooden boards.

“What are you planting, little one?” My voice softens around her.

“I’m not sure yet, not a lot will survive in this soil.” Her tiny, heart shaped face scrunches up with baseless worry, making me want to kiss the frown off her lips.

“Do you want to look for something atThe Garden Center?” I suggest nonchalantly, gauging her reaction.

She’s been getting restless here and it’s only a question of time before Malory’s mental health starts deteriorating again. Things have only recently staring looking up and there’s no way I’ll let her slip back into her old shell.

Her eyes widen, mouth falling open before she quickly recovers.

“You’d let me come with?”

“Sure.”

“Really?” She blurts out and I can’t blame her for not believing me.

I’ve kind of been acting out of character since that kiss in the hammock.

My thoughts drifting back to her soft lips and dainty fingers tangled in my hair every time I look at her. Every time I close my eyes, I can feel her in my arms.

Her small, pale hand fitting perfectly into my scarred one. So different on the outside, but on the inside, she’s the only one who could truly understand me.

“When have I ever not been serious?” I raise an eyebrow as Malory jumps to her feet, brushing the dirt off her hands in excitement.

“Are we leaving now?”

“Yeah, anytime you want. Though I’m guessing you’ll want to change first.”

Her cheeks flush as my eyes rove hungrily over her body. The tight tank top and cotton sleep shorts leaving barely anything to the imagination.

Seeing the desire burning in my eyes, Malory rushes past me, darting up the stairs before I can bend her over the railing.And here I thought I was being subtle.

Five minutes later, she emerges in one of my black shirts I left in her room after our bath last night, the oversized fit tucked into white linen shorts accentuating her slim waist.

A grunt of appreciation rumbles from my chest at seeing her dressed in my clothes, at laying claim on her in public.

She halts in the entryway, looking up at me with those huge, green eyes brimming with anticipation that makes something vital constrict within my ribcage.

Unhooking my old trucker hat from the wardrobe, I set it on her head before pulling out a pair of aviators.

“Keep this on the whole time and don’t take it off. Not even inside.” Nodding, Malory expertly twists her chestnut locks into a low bun that peaks out from under the cap with a few messy strands framing her beautiful face.

“You’ll stay by my side. No talking to anyone, understood?”

Compliant as always, she dips her chin in agreement.

„I need you to say it, little one.” I lower my voice to a drawl as her pupils dilate, remembering the last time I had a similar request.

“Y-yeah. I got it.”

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