His grip tightens on my wrist, a silent command to stay where I am, to submit. The pressure sends a shiver down my spine, making my blood run colder. But there’s a part of me that almost… welcomes it. I can feel the weight of his eyes on me, searing through every defense I’ve built, every layer of resistance that should have been enough to keep me from bending to him.
His thumb traces slow circles over my pulse, the rhythm hypnotic, as if he’s marking me, claiming me without a word. I try to stay still, to keep some semblance of control, but my body betrays me, leaning into him just slightly, the heat between us undeniable.
“You still think you can escape, don’t you?” Ashton’s voiceis low, his breath warm against my ear, sending an unspoken invitation to something darker. “You think you’re still in control.”
The words strike like a whip, harsh and raw. I open my mouth to respond, to fight back, but my voice falters, caught in the storm of what he’s doing to me. A part of me wants to fight him with everything I have, to claw my way free of his hold. But there’s another part of me, the one I’m trying to ignore, that knows I don’t have the strength.
“You’re mine, Dove,” he murmurs again, his words almost gentle now, a twisted comfort. “And there’s no running from me. Not anymore. You belong to me.”
I shake my head, but it’s half-hearted. My eyes refuse to meet his; they’re stuck on the floor, focusing on anything to avoid the rawness in his gaze. But I can feel the weight of his stare anyway, burning a path down my skin. The control he exudes is suffocating, relentless, but it’s also… intoxicating in its own sick way.
“You don’t get to choose, Dove,” he repeats, his grip on my wrist finally loosening, but only to move his hand to my chin, tilting my face upward. His thumb presses against my lips, forcing them to part.
My heart races. Every inch of me is screaming to pull away, but I stay trapped in his orbit. His eyes flicker with something darker now, something that feels like a promise of what’s coming.
A slow, wicked grin stretches across his face as he leans in, his breath warm against my lips. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn, little bird. You’ll learn what it means to belong to me.”
The words sink into my skin, and the twisted truth of them coils in my chest. I want to fight back, to scream, to escape. But there’s no denying the way his presence consumes me, the way my body responds to him against my will.
The silence stretches between us, thick with tension, until I can’t take it anymore. “You’re a monster,” I finally whisper, my voice trembling, barely above a breath.
His expression darkens, but there’s no anger, no irritation. Only amusement, twisted and cold. “You’re just figuring that out now?” He chuckles, low and dark, like a predator savoring its prey. “Good. That means you’re paying attention.”
And then, without warning, he presses his lips to mine.
It’s not a kiss, not the kind of kiss I’ve ever known. It’s brutal, claiming, and it pulls something deep inside me—something I don’t want to acknowledge. His mouth moves against mine, controlling, dominating, as though he’s trying to imprint his darkness onto me.
I want to pull away, to push him off, but my body betrays me again, leaning into the kiss. My hands clench at my sides, nails digging into the flesh of my palms, but still, I stay.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark, predatory, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s just the beginning, Dove.”
The words settle like ice in my veins, and for the first time, I’m not sure whether to fear him—or to crave what comes next.
As Ashton pulls back, his smirk lingering like a brand on my soul, I’m left breathless, disoriented, and fighting to regain some semblance of control. The air between us feels charged now, crackling with something dangerous, something that feels like a collision of every twisted desire I’ve ever tried to suppress.
His gaze doesn’t leave me. I can see the subtle shift in his posture, the way his body seems to tighten, as if holding back a storm that’s just begging to be unleashed. It’s unsettling. It should terrify me, but there’s something else bubbling to the surface. Something raw. Something dark.
“I can see it in your eyes,” he says softly, like a warning, or perhaps a promise. “You want more.”
I grit my teeth, biting down the response I know will only feed into his arrogance. I want to tell him that I want nothing from him, nothing but my freedom, but the words are caught in my throat. Because he’s right. Even if it’s only a fraction of me, there’s a part that does want more. And that sickens me.
“No,” I force out, my voice hoarse and weak, even as I feel the heat rising between us again. “I don’t want anything from you.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Liar,” he mutters, before he steps forward again, his movements fluid, predatory. “You say that now, but every part of you is drawn to me. You know it, and I know it.”
I try to push him back, weakly trying to break the hold he has on my mind, but it’s like pushing against a brick wall. He’s too strong, too there. His presence envelops me like smoke, choking out any escape, any rational thought.
“You don’t get to control me, Ashton,” I spit, even though my voice trembles in places I wish it wouldn’t. “You can’t make me want you.”
His lips curl up in amusement, and the moment feels like it stretches out into infinity. He leans in close again, his breath hot against my ear, and I can’t help but shiver. “We’ll see about that, Dove. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”
His hand moves to the side of my face, caressing my cheek with the lightest touch, and my pulse spikes. Every part of me is screaming at me to pull away, to break free. But I can’t. My body betrays me. His touch is too much, too right, and it makes my heart pound erratically in my chest.
Ashton seems to enjoy my silence, the way I’m torn between wanting to defy him and the sick thrill his touchsends through me. He knows he’s won, even if I haven’t admitted it to myself.
“Fight it all you want,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. “But you’re mine now, Dove. And I’ll break you—slowly, piece by piece—until you understand that.”
I tremble under his words, part of me still wanting to shove him away, to scream that this isn’t happening, that I’m not his. But deep down, another part of me knows the truth: the part of me that’s terrified and drawn to him at the same time.
