Obsession

chapter 4

★Dylan★

Is she really going to let me?

The thought kept flashing through my head as my hands reached for her thigh.

Her eyes bulged, her breath hitching with every inch I moved. My left arm grabbed hers, gently but firmly, and I slowly lowered her onto the bed. The mattress dipped under our weight.

"Shut your eyes," I said, my throat burning.

She shut them slowly. Her arms stretched by her sides, her chest beating fast. She looked so fragile. So fascinating. But I don't f**k around. Not with her.

"Just wanted to help you get back to sleep," I whispered against her ear.

Then, I climbed off the bed.

I watched her face squeeze into a fierce anger, even with her eyes still closed. She swung sideways, yanking the duvet up to her face.

"Shut the doors after you," she said, her voice steadier than before.

"Sure."

My legs reached for my footwear, slipping them on. I walked to the door, regret twisting in my gut. I hope I didn't just ruin this.

She will be fine, I told myself.

"Good night," I muttered as my hand reached for the knob, pulling the door shut behind me.

I walked to my room, blocking my ears to Victor's loud moans and his freaky w***e's yell down the hall. I climbed into bed, pulled the duvet up to my face, folded a pillow across my arm, and let the darkness elude me.

---

The next morning, I was jolted awake by the sound of shattering glass.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Madelyn stood in the doorway, a Tupperware tray in her hands with a small sized towel sitting on it and a broken glass scattered across the floor.

"Your body was burning, D," her voice said softly, as always.

D. A nickname she gave me years ago, born from a movie character I adored, and the first letter of my name. She’s been taking care of this house—and us—since my mother passed. I’ve tried proving to her a hundred times that I’ve grown, but she is persistent. Too thorough. So, I just let her do her thing.

"It's fine, Madelyn. It’s just the duvet that caused it. I'm fine," I explained, dropping my legs on the floor.

"The girl is gone. She didn't even stay around for breakfast." She flashed a mischievous look, her eyes smiling.

"Did anything happen?"

"Nothing happened," I smirked, jumping off the bed. "I might skip breakfast too."

I barged into the bathroom

"Sure you will," she hummed. I heard the door click shut.

Thank God.

I rushed through my morning routine, the toothbrush stumbling in my mouth. I dressed up, completely forgetting that Lion, my driver, had taken the day off. I drove myself to the office.

When I got there, Dar was sitting at my desk. The chessboard we play on sat across his lap, my laptop humming in the background.

"I needed to use the printer," he said, pointing at a piece of paper lying beside it. He placed the chessboard on the desk.

I drew a chair and settled onto it, tossing a pawn into the air.

"I think I f****d it up."

"What did you do, man?" he teased, throwing on a terrible Jamaican accent.

"Not in the mood for your silly accent, Dar. I think she freaked out. Seriously," I purred, pinching my thumb.

"I still don't get you," his voice returned to normal.

"We bumped into each other and I flipped out. She wasn't looking good when I did."

He flipped a pawn to C5 before looking up, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"You were planning to go down on her. Not nice. But you did just fine."

He winked, his lips stretching into a weird smile before he bursted into a loud laugh.

"C'mon, man."

"You need to see your face. You look like a scaredy-cat!" he wheezed.

"I think she is freaked out," he mimicked me in a high-pitched sing-song voice.

"I really hope she's not".

I sighed and moved my knight, taking his bishop.

"Damn you, man." he jinxed and bent over.

The game continued until my secretary interrupted us.

"You have a visitor. A blonde lady." Her voice flowed seamlessly, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

"Let her in."

Within seconds, she surfaced. Just as I expected.

Dar focused on the board, but I turned toward her.

"Hey, Dylan."

She spoke so softly, her voice nearly knocked me out. My eyes trailed down the dress she wore, memorizing the way it hugged her body.

How could I have possibly been so into her?

No. I knew exactly how. Stalking her for months had only scratched the surface. But having her in front of me like this? It's crazy.

My fingers gripped the edge of the desk so tightly I thought the wood might crack. My mouth felt tied. I tried to find words, but they wouldn't come.

I pushed my chair back and walked toward her, closing the distance. I couldn't hold back anymore.

"That dress suit you so well" I sighed. my chest thudding loud.

It was the only thing my brain could manage.

"I did not come here for that" she whispered.

"You can't escape me this time" she whispered again, right against my lips.

I leaned in, but just before our lips touched, I paused. My hand moved up, gently cupping her jaw, my thumb tracing the faint line of her pulse.

I leaned in and kissed her. It wasn't soft. It was desperate. Hungry. Like I had been holding my breath for months and she was my first breath.

And as she melted into me, my hands gripping her waist, one thought crossed my mind—a thought I would never say out loud:

If she ever tries to leave me, I will follow her to the ends of the earth.