Morning After Chaos
457 Words
Chapter 12: Morning After Chaos
The sunlight streamed through the curtains, cruel and bright.
Elena blinked into the golden haze, her limbs tangled in the sheets, her body sore in places she didn’t even know could ache. Last night played like flashes in her head—his hands, his voice, the way he didn’t ask, he took. And how she had let him.
No—how she had wanted it.
She sat up slowly, the silk sheet slipping down to her waist. The other side of the bed was empty, but the dent in the mattress still held his shape, still radiated warmth.
Reality hit hard.
This wasn’t a dream. And worse—this wasn’t supposed to happen. They had rules. Boundaries. She had drawn the lines, and Jaxon had crossed them in one night.
Or maybe she’d erased them herself.
Before she could gather her thoughts, the door opened. Jaxon stood there, shirtless, holding two mugs of coffee like nothing had changed.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice deep with morning gravel.
She clutched the sheet tighter. “Barely.”
He handed her a mug, then sat at the foot of the bed. “Regrets?”
She met his eyes—those piercing, unreadable eyes. “Should I?”
“I don’t regret a second of last night,” he said without hesitation. “But I need to know where we go from here.”
Elena stared at the steam curling from her cup. “This marriage was a business arrangement. Last night… it wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It was never just business for me.” His voice was rough now, edged with something darker. “Not when I first saw you. Not when I asked you to marry me.”
“You didn’t ask. You offered a contract.”
Jaxon leaned in. “Because it was the only way to keep you close. You think I haven’t wanted to touch you since day one?”
Her heart thundered. “Then why wait?”
“Because you deserved the chance to walk away.”
She looked at him, searching for the devil everyone else feared. But right now, he looked human—frustrated, honest, even vulnerable. And it terrified her more than the man who’d taken her so ruthlessly just hours ago.
“Last night changed everything,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It did.”
He reached out, brushing a hand through her messy hair. “I won’t apologize for wanting you. But I’ll fight like hell to earn you.”
Elena closed her eyes, her mind spinning. This was no longer pretend. No longer a performance.
And the scariest part?
She didn’t want to leave.
- Writer
