Chapter 147: Intertwined Obsession
"I had a feeling you needed me."
Her cheeks colored red, and it spread over to her neck. She followed my eyes to the sketchbook hanging on her hand, and held it up, flipping the pages.
There was silence for a while before she spoke. "I hope I’m not in trouble for being here."
"What trouble?" I teased and caught a small smile on her lips.
"Even though I picked the lock?" She peered at me through her lashes with that fucking innocent look that could torch my heart.
"We’ll deal with that later."
"Alright," she said, turning the sketchbook so that I could see the drawings. "I came here because I thought I was tripping."
"Elaborate."
"I thought maybe you ordered some artist to do all this."
I arched an eyebrow. "That’s a strong accusation, kitten. I didn’t realize you had doubts about this place."
"I don’t even know what is what anymore," she mumbled more to herself than me, but I caught everything.
"Then I saw this... and realized how silly that thought was."
"The reason you picked the locks," I said, amused.
She pinned me down with those fiery eyes of hers. "Doesn’t amount to your break-ins."
The audacity of her to run that mouth of hers. If only she knew what was going through my mind right now.
She dropped the sketchbook on the worktable. "So you actually paint, huh?"
"Does it amaze you that much? It’s a hobby. Everyone has those."
"You’re not like everyone."
As I moved toward her, I noticed her anxiety growing. So I didn’t rush; I took my time closing the distance between us. Her chin arched upwards as she tried to maintain eye contact.
"You asked me a question on the phone, remember?" I said, halting only inches from her. "Let’s start with that. Or aren’t you curious anymore?
I wanted to touch her, but I kept my hands rooted to my sides because I knew the moment I did, there wouldn’t be talking.
"Want me to show you?"
She swallowed thickly. "What?"
"How we met."
"Are you gonna show me a painting?"
I chuckled. "No, kitten. I’m the painting."
She narrowed her eyes at me, but that look quickly shifted to surprise when I lifted her by the waist and set her on the worktable. It shuddered slightly beneath her weight.
With questions swirling in her eyes, I began unbuttoning my shirt, and she followed every movement. A gasp escaped her lips when I took off my shirt and tossed it somewhere.
Her eyes shot back to mine as though looking at my body was too much for her.
Same here, kitten.
I took her hand, and a jolt of warmth shot through me as the softness of her skin met my calloused palm.
My jaw clenched tightly as I focused only on bringing her hand closer to the lower side of my abdomen.
"Feel that?" I asked.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she lowered her gaze.
"What is that?" she asked softly. "It feels like a scar."
"Because it is."
She looked to me for an explanation before going back to trace the slightly puckered circular scar. My muscles taunted, but I kept still as much as possible.
"It’s round..." she murmured.
"It’s a bullet wound."
"What?"
"That’s how we met."
Confusion stirred in her gaze, and I took the initiative to cup her cheeks and kiss her hungrily.
Fuck. It’s been only a week, yet it felt like years. The taste of her was addictive.
I felt her trembling hands rest on my chest to pull me away.
"I-I shot you?" she asked with wide eyes.
If this had been months ago, she would have been delighted at that thought, but now she looked downright scared to the bones at the mere thought of hurting me.
"You wish you did..." I said, my voice dripping in amusement.
She moaned when I pulled her up my frame and kissed her more intensely. She wrapped herself around me like an octopus, our mouths battling for dominance, but she pulled away the next minute.
"A-And then?" she asked in a thick rasp. "Tell me more."
"Enough talk." I covered her mouth again, and this time it got quicker and heated.
"Zade..." she moaned softly as I lowered my lips to her neck.
The farther she leaned back, the farther I followed, leaning just to savor more of her.
I dropped her back on the worktable, and with a simple tug, the buttons of the shirt she wore flew.
Without a word, I sucked hungrily at her tits and Anastasia’s hands raked my hair like a woman possessed.
I was eager with my advance, starved and losing a piece of my mind every single second that went by.
I felt her hands rest on my shoulder and pull me back so that we locked eyes. We stayed like that for what seemed like over a minute.
"I hated you," she found her voice.
"Naturally."
She shook her head slowly, and I had never seen her in such internal turmoil.
"Is there something I should know?"
"Anastasia," I said, pushing her hair away from her face.
"Whatever it is, I can handle it, I—"
I seized her neck in a tight hold, and her body went utterly still. I relished the wild look in her eyes that bordered mostly on hot desire rather than fear.
It looked so fucking beautiful blossoming in those eyes.
"Can your pussy take me right now?"
Her breath hitched at my words, but she didn’t speak, just looking at me like she couldn’t handle what was in front of her.
I’ll take that as a yes. I sank to her neck, devoured her skin, and a groan vibrated from her throat.
"You told me you wanted me to be the first man to ever touch you. I kept my promise."
"W-When did I say that—"
"Shhh... You’re mine, Anastasia. Every inch of this body is mine."
She gasped, leaning backwards as I traced my tongue up her neck.
"Tell me I’m right..." I sucked against her chin, and she shuddered. "Tell me."
"Z-Zade, please..."
"That’s not what I wanna hear, kitten." I threaded my fingers through her hair and gripped tightly.
She grunted, her head shooting upwards, eyes dazed as she looked at me.
"You have always been mine," I murmured against her lips. "Even when you hated me."
Her gaze lingered on mine before the tip of her tongue brushed softly across my lower lip, as though savoring the taste of me.
"Y-Yours," she replied breathlessly.