Page 147 of Possession

His silence is as heavy as his mood.

I grip the marble counter behind me thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Even though I know this is a safe place to talk, I whisper, “What’s wrong?”

His eyes never leave me when he moves. One moment he’s across the room, and the next, my face is engulfed in his hands. Every ounce of tense energy and emotion bleeds into me through his searing lips. I taste it on his tongue, feel it through his grip, and hear it in the rough growl that rumbles from deep in his chest. It vibrates through me where I’m pressed into the vanity.

One hand slides into my hair. He fists it and pulls my head back for him to deepen his kiss. His other feels its way down my neck and yanks.

The material bites into the back of my neck as buttons pop between us. I moan into his mouth when his hand slides around me to unhook my bra. His touch on my skin is searing and rough.

And confusing.

I love it, even though it scares me.

He tears his mouth from mine, and we’re both breathing hard as he stares down at me.

My words are breathy and low when I repeat, “What’s wrong?”

His gaze drops between us, to my breasts, barely contained in my loose bra, and he shakes his head. “Everything is wrong, chica.”

He feels it when I start to panic.

His eyes jump to mine, but he’s not quick to put me at ease. “In the middle of all the wrong, I somehow ended up with you. It doesn’t make sense. I haven’t figured out who killed Brian, and that’s the only reason I’m here, but all I want to do is pick you up and run. Coming back here was fucking hard.”

He yanks his dress shirt from his pants with one hand, while the other goes to the buttons at his chest.

“Did something happen?” I ask. “You’re different than you were when you left me with Rocco.”

His shirt lands on the floor before he reaches for my jeans and rips at the buttons. I’m left breathless when he dips his hand straight into my panties to cup me.

“Yeah, something happened.” His gaze burns into me as hot as his hold on my sex as his fingers start to move in my tight jeans. His other hand comes to my face, his index finger traces the fading bruise below my eye. “You’ll never wear a bruise or a cut again. I made sure of it.” His finger trails down my skin, drags across my bottom lip, and falls to my shoulders where he pushes my torn shirt from my shoulders, followed by my bra. “No one will ever touch you but me. Do you understand what that means?”

I don’t answer. I’m afraid to guess.

His dark eyes bleed with emotion. “I did what I promised. Nic is dead.”

My heart speeds, and my breaths shallow as he fills me with two fingers, hooking them inside me. I pull in a quick breath of air, but he doesn’t let me talk.

He leans down and kisses the side of my parted lips. “Chica, get rid of the pants. Now. I’ve never needed you more.”

I can’t move. I grip the marble tighter.

He turns me without letting me go. I take in our reflection in the mirror. We’re both bare from the waist up when his heated gaze meets mine through the reflection. His warm chest hits my back when he demands, “I’m not letting go, Landyn. No one will hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it. You’re going to watch as I make you come. Then I’m going to bury myself in you and pretend we’re anywhere but here. I can’t wait to get you out of here for good. I’m ready to shout to the world who I really am and that you’re mine.”

I’m overcome.

He said he would kill Nic. And just today he confirmed what I suspected more and more as I fall in love with him—that he was the one who killed Damian.

But this?

Now?

When we’re so close to the end?

I assumed when he said he would kill Nic, it was figurative—that he would be on the long list of people with an arrest warrant.

But I’m relieved. I’m not sure what it says about me that the news fills me with joy.

And that it turns me on.

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