Her resistance faltered. “That doesn’t mean you have to trap me here.” Her hands crept up to the front of my shirt, fingers curling into the soaked fabric.
“I didn’t bring you here to trap you.” I lifted her face to mine, the steam thick between us, her lashes heavy with droplets. “I brought you here because I wanted you in my space again. Since that first night, I wanted to understand what that meant, how it would feel if I did it often instead of leaving after I fucked you.”
Her breath hitched when my mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was neither gentle nor aggressive. She resisted again, pushing at my chest, but it lacked conviction now. The line between anger and desire blurred under frenzied desire. I slowed deliberately, giving her room to step away if she chose, letting my hands trail rather than claim.
“You infuriate me,” she murmured against my mouth, her fingers moving to my neck, drawing me closer.
“I know.” I slid my hands around her waist, pulling her flush against me.
The shower water ran cooler before either of us noticed. By then her reluctance had melted into something softer, something she offered rather than surrendered. I let her peel off my clothes and set the pace, let her hands explore the scars across my chest and discover that the brutality she knew in me did not translate into carelessness here. When I lifted her, it was with intention, not conquest, her legs wrapping around me as if she had decided this was her choice after all.
Later, a fire crackled low in the bedroom hearth and Ishika sat on the floor against the bed, wrapped in one of my shirts, hair loose and damp down one shoulder. Lying on my stomach with my chin resting on my folded hands at the foot of the bed, I watched her with a silence that wasn’t me.
Her eyes drifting from the orange flames, she tilted her head, studying me. “You look like you’re trying to solve a math problem.”
“I am.” I dragged a hand through my wet hair. “Trying to figure out why today mattered.”
She laughed softly, the sound vibrating through me. “Because you lack emotion and you don’t believe in anything you can’t control.” She lifted her wine glass to her lips without breaking eye contact.
I almost corrected her, letting her know she was the only thing currently outside my control. “In my world, there are some things you’re going to see that if you allow yourself to get emotional about it, you won’t be able to forget.”
“I didn’t ask for this, you forced me into your world–”
“What about Ajay?”
“He’s a means to an end.”
“Your brother?”
She failed to hide her surprise then sighed heavily. “I’m wedged in a situation I haven’t really grasped. There’s something bigger in play.”
“Sometimes when the lights go out for some unknown reason or you’re stuck in a cave, you learn to live in the darkness because you don’t have a choice. Human nature allows you to adapt because we don’t let failure rule us.”
“Unless you leave and go someplace where there’s light, right?” She drew her knees to her chest, hugging them.
“Unless circumstance dictate that once you’re in, you can’t get out.”
She stared at me, her expression contemplative. “You’re not going to let me go, are you?” Slowly, she combed a hand through her hair, breathing in deeply. “Even if I marry Ajay,” she whispered the last part.
“If you haven’t accepted it yet, you’re mine, little fox,” I growled. “You can fight me, you can defy me but still, you submit so beautifully. Because even though you’re afraid to admit it, you’re drawn to me, you crave my darkness and if all else fails, I’ll skin, roast and eat the heart of anyone who touches so much as a strand of hair on your pretty little head.”
Her brow shot up. “What about Ajay?”
“Like you said, a means to an end he’s forced on you, and he’ll have to deal with the subsequent consequences of my actions.”
“I–”
A firm knock cut through her words. I frowned. Rogan usually handled estate affairs and never knocked unless something urgent required my attention.
“Enter,” I called, rising as the door opened.
Rogan stepped inside, his suit immaculate despite the hour, his face a mask of professional calm that didn’t quite hide the urgency in his eyes. “Sir, we have a situation at the docks.” He kept his voice low, glancing briefly at Ishika before fixing his gaze on the floor, knowing better than to hold eye contact with her. “Container forty-two is burning. Looks like arson.”
Cold recalibration replaced the prior warmth. “Casualties?”
“None confirmed. I’ll handle it.”
“Give me five.” I was already heading to the walk-in closet as he left.
