Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
"I... I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel," I finally replied, my voice smaller than I intended. My throat tightened, and I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. "You talk about us being tied together like this is my fate, but..." I paused, feeling a lump forming in my throat. "You’ve taken everything from me. My choices. My life."
Even as the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t entirely true.
I didn’t hate him.
God, I wanted to.
I needed to and I should have.
But a twisted part of me craved his possessiveness and the way he took complete control, a part that made me sick to my stomach, yet I couldn’t deny it. He had this hold on me, something dark and irresistible, and it terrified me as much as it made me feel content.
His fingers brushed against my cheek, the touch tender and gentle. “You feel exactly how you’re meant to feel,” he remarked, his voice soft yet commanding. “Torn between the person you thought you were and the person you are now.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice a soothing melody that lulled me into a sense of security.
I shook my head, still unable to form coherent thoughts. "No," I whispered. "I don't regret it."
“Good.” His smile was slow and wicked as he settled between my legs again. “You shouldn’t fight what you already know deep down.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words sinking in. My arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer. Our lips met once more, and as our bodies intertwined again, every touch, every whispered promise, tethered me further to him. Through the haze of desire, when he eventually thrust inside me again, the sickening realization that I might not want to escape clawed at my mind. The thought twisted inside me, growing louder with every passing moment, but I couldn’t make it stop.
I didn’t know how to make it stop.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Under the warm cascade of water, Alexander washed my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp in slow, deliberate motions. It was comforting, and intimate in a way that felt too familiar.
There was something about him in moments like these that was almost disarming, something that made the dark intensity he usually carried fade just enough to reveal a gentler side. We'd spent so long in bed that my entire body felt both weightless and heavy, as if I were floating and sinking at the same time. I’d lost track of how many times he wound up inside me, how many ways he had twisted and bent me, leaving every part of me marked by him. I was exhausted and sated, yet somewhere deep inside, a slow burn still lingered, like embers waiting to reignite.
Now that we’d started this, there was no going back, and if he had his way—if the Isle really held the sway, he and the others claimed it did—I would be pregnant much sooner than later. I could feel that reality tightening around me, a noose slowly being pulled taut.
His grip tightened slightly, as if sensing my unease. “You’re overthinking again,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. I swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on me. How had I let it get this far?
“I’m not,” I protested, though we both knew it was a lie.
The truth was, my mind was spinning, unable to shut off. Being in his arms like this felt like flying and falling at once.
“You are,” he insisted softly, turning me around to face him. His hands slid down my arms, holding me just tight enough that I couldn’t pull away. His eyes, those piercing topaz eyes, locked onto mine, searching for whatever I was hiding.
“I can’t stop thinking about it... what we just did,” I confessed, my voice barely audible above the steady flow of the water.
A slow, satisfied smile crept across his face. “Good,” he said, his fingers brushing a wet strand of hair from my cheek. “I don’t want you to forget.”
I looked away, feeling the heat rise to my face. “It’s just… too much.”
His thumb grazed my jawline, gently turning my face back to him. “You think you’re scared of this, of us, but it’s not fear you’re feeling, is it?”
I swallowed, my pulse racing. He was right.
Fear wasn’t what had me so tightly wound, and that realization terrified me more than anything. It was the pull, the intensity of the connection between us, that made me feel like I was losing myself piece by piece. He leaned in closer, his lips barely a breath away from mine. “You can’t fight it forever, Lola. I’m already inside of you.”
His words lingered in the air between us, heavy with truth and a dark promise. I could feel the weight of his control tightening, pulling me deeper into his world with every breath. My resistance, whatever I had left of it, felt like a distant echo.