Page 10 of Ruthless Possession

William

The moment I woke up, I knew I was fucked.

Every inch of me ached—a delicious, lingering soreness that had Noah Draven’s name all over it. Literally.

I shifted under the sheets, and the faintest pressure against my skin sent flashes of last night through my mind—the way Noah had touched me, ruined me, claimed me in every possible way.

His lips on my throat, his hands pinning me down, his voice—low, dark, commanding—whispering filthy promises into my skin.

My face burned. God. I turned onto my side, expecting to see him next to me, but the bed was empty. My stomach twisted. I wasn’t sure if I felt relieved or disappointed. Probably both. I needed space. I needed to think.

Except the more I thought, the worse it got. Because now that I was fully awake, I could feel him everywhere. The marks. The soreness. The heat still lingering in my stomach.

I groaned, shoving my face into the pillow. What the hell had I done? I had spent weeks fighting him. Weeks convincing myself that I could resist him, that I hated him.

And then?

One night, and I had crumbled like I was made for him. I probably was.

A sharp grumble from my stomach snapped me out of my thoughts. Right. Food.

I grabbed the first pair of sweatpants I could find and pulled them on, too tired—and too sore—to bother with a shirt.

I figured I’d grab something quick and sneak back to bed before Noah got the chance to make some smug, possessive remark about me still being here.

I didn’t think to check if he was alone.

I shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, still caught in my mess of thoughts and embarrassment. I barely registered the low whistle.

“Well, well, well.”

I froze. That was not Noah. My stomach dropped. I snapped my head up, and there he was.

Ethan Draven. Noah’s brother.

Sitting on the counter, coffee in hand, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face as his gaze dragged down my body. I was bare-chested, covered in marks, standing in front of Noah’s brother like a fucking idiot.

Ethan’s smirk deepened. “Damn, you look like you got eaten alive.”

Oh my god. Heat exploded across my face. I wanted to die. Right now.

I whipped around, ready to run the hell back to the bedroom, when I collided with something solid.

Noah. Tall, shirtless, very much not amused.

He grabbed me by the waist, pulling me into him, his grip firm, unyielding. Possessive.

Ethan let out a low laugh. “Relax, bro. I was just admiring your work.”

Noah stiffened.

Then, in one quick motion, he reached back, grabbed a kitchen towel, and threw it over my shoulders like it was some kind of shield.

“Look away,” he growled.

Ethan snorted. “Jealous much?”

Noah shot him a murderous glare. “Unless you want me to put you in the fucking ground, don’t look at him.”

I swallowed hard. Jesus.

Ethan just laughed harder, shaking his head. “Man, you are so fucking gone.”

Noah ignored him, turning his full attention back to me. His hand tightened on my waist, his jaw tense, his eyes dark.

“Back to the bedroom,” he ordered, voice low and dangerous.

I blinked up at him. “What—”

His fingers brushed my throat, tracing the marks he put there.

“Now, William.”

I swallowed. Shit.

Ethan took a slow sip of his coffee, way too entertained. “Damn. You’ve got him trained already?”

Noah didn’t even spare him a glance. He just grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the kitchen.

The second we were back in the bedroom, Noah let go of my wrist—only to grab my chin.

His eyes burned into mine, his grip firm.

“You don’t walk around like that where people can see you,” he said, voice sharp. “You hear me?”

My breath hitched. I should have been annoyed. I should have argued, told him he was being insane. But all I could do was nod and the fact that his commanding voice made me horny.

Noah exhaled through his nose, still clearly pissed. He yanked open a drawer, grabbed a shirt, and shoved it against my chest. “Put this on.”

I hesitated for a second too long.

His jaw clenched. “Now, William.”

I swallowed, then quickly pulled it over my head. The fabric was soft, oversized, swallowing me whole.

Noah took one look at me and smirked.

“Better.”

My face was still burning. “You’re insane.”

Noah hummed, stepping closer. “You say that,” he murmured, brushing his fingers against my pulse. “But you’re still here.”

I hated how my stomach flipped at that.

His smirk widened. He fucking knew.

And God help me, I was so screwed.