Page 43 of Colton
I need her.
I step out of the shower, water dripping from my body as I grab a towel and roughly dry myself. The mirror reflects a man driven by obsession, eyes wild and hungry. I barely recognize myself, but I don’t care. I embrace this version of me, the one who takes what he wants, who controls and possesses.
Dressed in clean clothes, I make my way back to the kitchen. I grab a beer from the fridge, the cold bottle sweating in my hand as I take a long swig. The bitter taste grounds me, bringing me back to the present, to my reality. To Mary.
I hear muffled sounds coming from the bedroom, the rustle of fabric, the creak of the bed. She’s settling in, making this space hers. The thought both excites and infuriates me. I want her to be comfortable, but I also want her to understand that this is my domain.
I take another sip of my beer, setting it down on the counter with a thud. I need to see her. I need to be in the same room as her, to breathe the same air. Grabbing the new clothes I bought her, I walk back to the bedroom, my heart pounding in my chest with each step. The lock disengages with a loud click, and I push open the door.
She’s sitting on the bed, her back straight, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance. Her hair is damp, clinging to her face and neck, evidence of her own shower. Her dirty clothes sit in a pile at her feet. The sight of her, fresh and clean, in my space, sends a wave of desire crashing through me. I toss the dress at her and smile.
“Wear this. How are you finding your new...accommodations?” I ask, my voice a low rumble. I lean against the doorframe, my eyes scanning her, taking in every detail of her appearance. I want to memorize her like this, in this moment, when she’s vulnerable and uncertain yet still holds that spark of defiance in her eyes.
“Colton,” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a steel undertone to it. “You can't keep me here. This...this is wrong.”
She reaches for the dress and slides it over her head, and I nod my approval.
I chuckle, a sound that comes out dark and menacing. “Wrong?” I push off from the door frame, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her. “This isn’t wrong, Mary. This is right. This is where you belong. With me.”
She shrinks back slightly as I approach, but her eyes never leave mine. She’s wary, like a cornered animal, but there’s a strength in her gaze that sends a thrill through me. I want to break that strength, to see it crumble before me. I want her to surrender completely.
I reach out, my hand cupping her cheek. Her skin is soft, cool to the touch. I can feel her tense under my hand, but she doesn’t pull away. “You’re mine, Mary,” I murmur, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”
She takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, drawing my eyes to the neckline of her dress. I can see the pulse point at the base of her throat, beating rapidly. It’s intoxicating, that visible sign of her fear, her anxiety. I want to lean in, to press my lips against that pulse, to feel her life force throbbing under my touch.
“Colton,” she says again, her voice firmer this time. “You need to let me go. This isn’t love, this is...obsession.”
I smile a cold, humorless smile. “Love, obsession,” I shrug, “What’s the difference? They both consume you; both make you do things you never thought you would.”
She stares at me before shaking her head.
My, my, she is defiant.
I’ll just have to show her how much she means to me.
Chapter 21
Luella
Ipace the damn room, feeling like a caged animal. It’s not small by any means—in fact, it’s probably the nicest room I’ve ever been in. But there aren’t any windows, just a thick cherry wood door that Colton locked behind him.
Locked.
Like I’m some kind of possession to be hidden away.
I drag my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots for some sort of release, but the tension only tightens. The air in here is suffocating, clean and perfumed as it is. Too clean. Too perfect. It reeks of control, just like everything else in this goddamn bunker.
I stop in front of the door, glaring at it like somehow I can burn a hole through it with enough hate.
What the hell has happened to me?
I was supposed to be running this game, not the other way around. I came to the Blackwood house with a purpose: vengeance, retribution. Whatever you want to call it.Justice, maybe, for everything Xavier Blackwood has done. The bastard deserves to rot, and I wassoclose to lighting the match that’d set his whole empire ablaze. Close enough to taste it.
And now? Now I’m locked in here like some…some helpless girl waiting for a prince to save her.
Except the prince is Colton.
I sit on the edge of the bed, some ridiculously oversized thing with silk sheets; a bed fit for a Queen. Or a very dark King. I dig my nails into my palms, hard enough to leave half-moons in my skin. Anything to distract from the creeping panic that’s trying to claw its way to the surface. I won’t let it. I won’t allow myself that weakness. Not now.
