Page 17 of Ruthless Possession
William
Noah didn’t let me go. Not after. Not even for a second.
I was still trembling from everything he’d done to me, but he kept me right there, beneath him, drowning in the heat and weight of his body.
His breathing was uneven against my neck, lips brushing skin that I swore must be bruised from how hard he kissed me.
I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even hide the pathetic whimper that escaped when his hand slid down my side.
“No, no,” Noah murmured darkly against my ear. “Don’t run from me now.”
I wasn’t running. I was barely breathing.
And when he shifted, sliding his thigh between mine, I almost lost it right then.
“You thought you could act like you don’t feel this?” His voice was low, dangerous. He pressed his palm flat against my chest, directly over my hammering heart. “You think I didn’t notice how you’ve been clinging to me every time I touch you? Every time I ruin you?”
I shook my head, but it wasn’t enough. Noah grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. Those dark, furious eyes that swallowed me whole. “Lie to me again, and I’ll fuck the truth out of you,” he hissed.
My body arched against him involuntarily. Shame burned through me, but it wasn’t enough to stop the need.
He grinned like a predator who already knew the ending.
“No way out, William,” he whispered. “Not anymore.”
I hated how much I loved hearing that.
Noah kissed me again, slower this time but no less devastating.
His tongue claimed my mouth like it belonged there, like I belonged to him.
Every touch of his hands left me raw. My wrists pinned above my head, my legs forced open.
There was no pretense left. No excuses. No more pretending that I wasn’t addicted to the way he destroyed me.
“You’re mine,” Noah said, dragging his mouth down my neck, biting until I gasped. “Say it.”
I shook my head, defiant and desperate. His laugh was dark, pleased.
“Oh, you will.”
His hand slid lower, trailing down my body until I was shivering beneath him, my dignity nowhere in sight.
When I tried to turn away, he caught my throat—not to hurt, but to hold, to make sure I saw him. Felt him.
“You think I’ll let you go after this?” His thumb stroked my pulse. “After everything? No, sweetheart. You’ll beg me to keep you.”
Noah chuckled darkly. “You’re addicted, sweetheart. You just don’t want to admit it yet.”