Page 24 of Ruthless Possession
My fingers fumbled with the collar of my shirt as I sat on the edge of Noah’s bed, the silence between us coiled tight like a wire about to snap.
I could still taste him—his kiss, his claim—lingering on my tongue.I could feel the weight of his stare, heavy and consuming, like he was still inside me somehow, even with a few feet between us.
He hadn’t said much after dragging me back to the apartment.He didn’t need to.The silence did more damage than words ever could.
Until now.
The bathroom door opened with a soft creak.I looked up—couldn’t help it.
Noah stepped out, damp curls falling over his forehead, a small box rolling slowly between his fingers.He didn’t make a sound, but I felt him.God, I always felt him.
My heart stuttered in my chest as he came closer, stopping just in front of me.
“Look at me,” he said, quiet but firm.A command, not a request.
I looked.I always looked.
The box clicked open, and inside sat a silver ring.Simple.Elegant.Nothing flashy, but still screaminghis.
And inside, engraved in smooth cursive, was his name.
My stomach dropped.“Noah—”
“You’ll wear it,” he murmured, stepping in until his thighs brushed my knees.“You’ll wear it for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”
That voice—low, syrup-thick, coaxing and cruel all at once—wrapped around my ribs and squeezed.
I swallowed hard.“Isn’t this—”
“Too much?”he cut in, head tilting like my hesitation amused him.He leaned in, breath hot against my ear.“You already gave yourself to me.This is just proof.”
His words slithered under my skin, heat pooling low in my stomach.I hated the way I leaned into it.Intohim.
Into the gentle pressure of his thumb under my chin, tilting my face up like I was something precious.Like Ibelongedto him.
“I didn’t agree to—”
He kissed me.
Slow.Deep.Claiming.
By the time he pulled back, I was dazed.My lips parted, my breath unsteady.
His thumb traced the corner of my mouth, and when I whimpered fromjust that, he smiled.
“You’ll wear it,” he said again, softer now.“Because you crave it.Because youlikebeing mine.”
My head spun.I should’ve said no.I should’ve run.
But instead, my hand lifted—shaking, stupid—and I let him slip the ring onto my finger.
It fit like it had always been meant to be there.
When he whispered “Good boy” against my lips, something in me cracked wide open.
Warmth.Hunger.Pride.
I didn’t even notice the tears slipping down my cheeks until he leaned in, licking one away with a quiet, cruel kind of tenderness.
“There’s no escape, sweetheart,” he whispered.“Never was.”
I loved it.
THE END
