Page 102 of Sweet Obsession
The doors slammed shut behind us. I staggered inside, soaked in smoke and sweat, legs barely holding me up. Misha’s arm was like iron around my waist, dragging me forward when I wanted to collapse.
The mansion was too quiet. Every tick of the clock was a reminder of what I’d just risked, what he nearly lost.
Misha didn’t speak until we reached my room. He kicked the door shut, turned on me, and the storm hit.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he snapped, voice like gravel over ice. “You walk into a trap and expect to walk out alive?”
I stripped off the coat, chest heaving. “You lied to me about Gabriela.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You don’t get to make that choice.”
“And you don’t get to walk into hell without telling me!”
We were close now—too close. His hands were clenched, his body shaking with rage and something else. I saw it in his eyes: not just fury. Fear. Real, human fear.
“I saw what he was going to do to you,” he growled, stepping in. “If I’d been a minute later...” His voice broke. “He would’ve—”
“But he didn’t,” I whispered. “Because I fought. Because I survived.”
“You shouldn’t have to survive like that.”
Silence fell. Thick. Pressed between us like a weight.
He looked at me, at my busted lip, my shaking hands, the smoke still in my hair. “You don’t get to scare me like that,” he said, voice low, bitter. “I’ve lost too much already.”
“I was scared too,” I said. “But I’m not your porcelain doll, Misha. I don’t break that easy.”
His mouth crashed into mine again—rougher this time. Desperate. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I let him. Let him pour every ounce of fury, fear, obsession into that kiss. Because it wasn’t just anger. It was need. It was him.
He pulled back just enough to whisper, “I will find Gabriela. I swear to you, Luna. But next time you run off like that—I’ll lock the world down to keep you here.”
“And I’ll break every lock,” I said, breathless.
He smiled. Just barely. “Then I’ll build stronger ones.”
“I was ready to burn the world down,” he rasped, dragging his lips down my neck, biting the curve of my shoulder, his fingers digging into my hips like he was anchoring himself to me. “And I’ll still torch it, Luna, if anyone touches you again.”
He yanked my nightgown over my head in one brutal motion, the fabric tearing, leaving me bare except for my panties. His mouth dropped to my chest, sucking my nipple with a ferocitythat pulled a guttural moan from my throat, my hands fisting his hair.
He laid me on the bed, his body hard and commanding over mine, reverence and rage tangled in his touch. Then, in a swift move, he flipped me onto my stomach, his hands ripping my panties off. I gasped, “Fuck!”
My face flushing—doggy? I’d fantasized about it, dreamed of him taking me like this, but shame had kept it locked away. Now, there was no hiding.
His hand cracked against my ass, a sharp sting that made me moan “Mmm... shit...” pleasure and pain twisting together.
He slapped his cock against my skin, the heavy heat of it taunting, and I whimpered, “Please...”
My hips arching despite myself. His fingers found my clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles, and I cried out, my body trembling, aching for him to fill me.
“You risked your life,” he growled, his voice thick with possession, his cock pressing at my entrance. “You think you can defy me and walk away?”
“Then punish me,” I hissed, defiant, pushing back against him. “But don’t you dare stop.”
He thrust into me, sharp and deep, “ Damn!” I screamed.
The stretch intense, my body still adjusting to him after our first time on Yuri’s grave. His hands gripped my ass, bruising, as he slammed into me, each thrust a declaration. “You’re mine, Luna,” he snarled, his voice unhinged, obsessive. “No one else gets to touch this body, this soul.”
