My back hit the wall and there was nowhere left to go as he closed the distance between us, his hands bracing on either side of my head, caging me in. I could smell him, woodsmoke and soap and something darker that made my head spin.
"You can be angry, Lena," he said, his voice dropping lower. "You can call me every name in the book, but we both know the truth."
"What truth?" I spat, even as my body betrayed me by leaning slightly toward him.
"You wanted this." His eyes searched mine. "Maybe not consciously, maybe not in a way you'd admit, but you wanted someone to see you, to pay attention, to make you feel like you mattered."
Tears were streaming down my face now, hot and unwanted. "Not like this."
"Exactly like this." His thumb brushed away a tear with a gentleness that made me want to scream. "You don't want someboring guy who plays by the rules, you want someone who'll burn the world down to keep you."
"You're sick," I whispered, but the words came out breathless instead of angry.
"I know." He leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear. "And you're mine."
My body was responding in ways my mind couldn't process, heat pooling low in my belly even as fear coursed through my veins. This was wrong, all of this was so fucking wrong, but when his hand came up to cup my face, I didn't pull away.
"Tell me you don't feel it," he murmured against my skin. "Tell me you don't get wet thinking about how I've watched you, how I've been in your space, how I know every little thing about you."
I should have been horrified, should have been screaming, but instead a whimper escaped my lips.
"That's what I thought," he said, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. "You like being wanted this much. You like knowing someone is obsessed with you."
"This is kidnapping," I managed to say, but my voice was weak, unconvincing.
"This is devotion." He said it with such certainty that I almost believed him. "Obsessive, fucked up, probably illegal devotion, but devotion nonetheless."
His other hand slid down my side, fingers pressing into my hip, and I couldn't stop the way my body arched into his touch. I hated myself for it, hated how much I wanted him even knowing what he'd done, but the desire was overwhelming.
"What are you going to do to me?" I whispered.
His smile widened as he pressed his body against mine, letting me feel exactly how hard he was. "I'm going to keep you, take care of you, make sure you never want for anything."
"And if I try to leave?"
"You won't." His hand slid under my shirt, fingers splaying across my stomach. "Because I'll make you love me back, I'll make you need me the way I need you, and by the time I'm done, the thought of leaving will terrify you more than staying ever could."
A sob tore from my throat, but it sounded more like a moan, and when his lips found my neck, I tilted my head to give him better access.
"Please," I tried one more time, but I didn't know what I was asking for anymore.
"Tell me you want this," he growled against my skin. "Tell me you want me."
I should have said no, should have fought harder, but when his hand slid between my legs and found me wet and ready, all my resistance crumbled. A moan so soft escaped from between my lips I found myself disgusted with myself, that my body would betray me like this. Slowly, I ground myself against his hand, wanting more.
Wanting relief, almost as if I were starved for it.
"I want…" The words caught in my throat.
"Say it, Lena…"
"I want you," I gasped, and the confession felt like both a surrender and a relief.
Killian pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with possession and something else, something that looked almost like love.
"Good girl," he murmured. "Now let me show you exactly what it means to be mine."
Chapter 11
