Chapter 126: Chapter 126
And the scariest part wasn’t that she wanted to run. It was that she didn’t.
Her breath caught, shallow and uneven, trapped between her lungs and the hard wall of his chest pressing her into the mattress.
Elias didn’t move, not really. He didn’t have to. He had already claimed the air, the silence, and the room. He knew he did!
The sheer weight of his stillness burned hotter than any touch. He didn’t give her frantic hands or messy hunger. He gave her control wrapped in restraint, and that restraint was devastating.
"Nothing," he murmured again, voice low, deliberate. His mouth was close enough for the word to graze her cheek. "You said nothing."
Her lashes fluttered, and her pulse drummed where his thumb rested, lightly hooked beneath her jaw. He wasn’t choking her. He wasn’t holding her down. He was simply there. A single, subtle line of pressure that made it impossible for her to pretend she wasn’t trembling under his power.
"I...." Her voice cracked, half-truth, half-lie.
He arched one brow, eyes fixed on her like he could strip the words before they even left her tongue. "Careful."
Her thighs pressed together beneath the slip of her dress. It was just a futile instinct that only heightened the ache spiraling low in her belly.
Every nerve was awake, frantic, and screaming at her to bolt, to resist, and to claw her way free. Yet, her fingers curled instead into the sheets, grounding herself in the place she couldn’t bring herself to escape.
Elias leaned in just a fraction. That fraction was ruinous. His nose brushed her temple, and his breath skimmed down to her ear. He didn’t kiss her. Not yet.
He lingered, and suspended there, as if the promise of him was more dangerous than the act itself.
"Say it again," he whispered.
Her lips parted, trembling, but the word never made it past her throat. She didn’t know if he wanted confession or surrender, denial or plea. She only knew the command was not one she could disobey, not when his voice was honeyed steel, dragging her under.
"I can’t..." she breathed.
Last night with him was a mistake. It was simply a beautiful disaster. If she give in again, then she’d be the foolish one.
"You can." His hand finally moved, only slightly, his thumb dragging a slow, measured line across the hollow of her throat. The caress that burned more than any grip. "And you will."
Her chest rose sharply, and her body betrayed her with a shiver that gave him everything she wanted hidden. He felt it. She knew he felt it because the corner of his mouth twitched.
There was a ghost smile there. It wasn’t one of satisfaction, but recognition. He had caught her in the act of wanting him, and now there was no undoing it.
"Elias..." It came out strangled, more of a plea than warning.
"Yes, Belle." He didn’t flinch at the way his name sounded on her tongue. He absorbed it, savoring the syllable like it was meant for him alone. Then, finally, after a stretch of silence that drove her mad, he lowered his mouth to her jawline.
The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was a punishment. Slow, deliberate, and precise. His lips traced her jaw, down to the tender spot beneath her ear, then lower still, along the column of her throat. He kissed her like a man who knew the weight of patience, who understood how to unravel a woman molecule by molecule.
She gasped, her back arching instinctively, offering more of herself even as her mind screamed no. Her body had already chosen. Her body was reckless, hungry, and traitorous.
"Do you feel it?" he asked against her skin. His voice was velvet dragged over a blade.
Her nails dug deeper into the sheets. "Feel what?"
"This." His hand slipped lower, his fingertips grazing her waist. Not between her thighs, not yet. He didn’t need to. The brush of his knuckles at her hip already sent fire licking through her veins. "The way I own you without even touching you."
The admission left her chest tight. Her lungs immediately caged themselves in shame, because he was right. God help her, he was right.
Every part of her body was wired to his. Every nerve ending anticipated his next move. She was already his, even as her mind fought to deny it.
"You don’t," she whispered, her rebellion weak, breaking on the last syllable.
He hummed, a low sound vibrating against her throat as he kissed it again. "Lie better, Amara."
Her name from his mouth felt like a sentence and a prayer at once. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperate for control, but his hand slid upward, slipping beneath the thin strap of her dress, coaxing it down her shoulder.
Her skin flamed under his touch. Every touch was deliberate enough to leave her trembling.
"You want this." His tone wasn’t a question.
Her lips parted, ready to deny, but the sound that escaped was a whimper. A broken, soft sound she couldn’t pull back fast enough.
Elias’s smirk deepened against her skin, though he didn’t gloat. He didn’t need to. He knew what that sound meant, and so did she.
He shifted, his weight pressing her further into the mattress, his body caging hers without crushing. His other hand pinned her wrist above her head, not harsh, but firm enough that her pulse leapt against his palm.
"Say it." His command was soft, and lethal.
Her throat worked, her heart slamming against her ribs. She shook her head, defiant, and desperate.
When his lips closed around the hollow of her throat again, sucking gently, and drawing her pulse against his mouth, she broke.
"I want this," she gasped.
She could accept being a fool, if it meant reliving last night, or even, better. The words were oxygen and surrender at once.
Elias froze only for a beat, his control was ironclad. The flicker in his gaze betrayed him, showing something darker, and deeper. He had her now. Not just her body, but her words, and her surrender.
His jaw clenched, as he stared deep into her dark eyes that no longer held any walls up. For the first time, he hoped for the forgiveness of someone. He hoped for her forgiveness.
’Don’t do this,’ a voice in his head whispered. ’She’s too innocent for her body to also be dragged into our dark twisted world. Do the assignment, and leave.’
Elias throat worked. He shut his eyes for a spilt second, and shut the voices in his head. "That’s better," he said, parting his eyes again. His voice was low, before claiming her mouth again.
The kiss shattered her. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t violent. It was desperate restraint, a clash of hunger and dominance that left her breathless.
His mouth crushed hers, as his tongue slid against hers with a force that felt like being devoured, yet tethered. He didn’t let her flee from it. He didn’t let her retreat into caution. He consumed her whole and left her gasping into the fire.
Her body writhed, hips arching up into his, and when she felt him hard, restrained, and pulsing against her through fabric, her breath broke on a cry.
Elias swallowed the sound with another kiss, his grip on her wrist tightening just enough to remind her who held control.
"You’ll take everything I give you," he growled against her mouth, "and you’ll beg me not to stop."