The Cold-hearted CEO

3

His fingers were still on my jaw, his thumb grazing my lip with slow, deliberate strokes. His scent—wrapped around me, making it impossible to focus.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

This was wrong.

So, so wrong.

And yet—

I didn’t pull away.

His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Say it.”

I swallowed hard. “Say what?”

“Tell me to stop.”

I knew if I didn’t say it now, I never would.

My lips parted, but the words refused to come.

His fingers slid lower, trailing down my throat. He wasn’t touching me anywhere indecent, but it felt indecent. Like he was claiming me with just a touch.

“Nothing to say?”

I squeezed my thighs together, heat pooling low in my stomach.

I needed to get out of here.

Now.

But then his fingers curled around my throat—light, barely there, just enough to make me shiver.

And that was it.

My control snapped.

I surged up from my chair, my hands fisting in his shirt as I crashed my lips to his.

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

Then everything exploded.

His hands were on me—gripping, pulling, owning. He pressed me back against his desk. His lips were rough, demanding, taking everything I gave him and more.

I moaned, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. He was everywhere—his scent, his touch, his presence overwhelming me.

“You have no idea what you’ve just started,” he murmured against my lips.

Neither did I.

---

The next morning, I was a mess.

I barely got any sleep.

How could I, after that?

One second, I had been in his office, kissing him like my life depended on it.

The next, he had pulled away, his breathing heavy, his eyes dark.

"Go home, Miss Carter."

That was all he said.

No explanation.

Just a command.

And like an i***t, I had obeyed.

Now, sitting at my desk, my body still humming from his touch, I couldn’t think straight.

What did this mean?

Did it mean anything?

Or was I just another mistake for him?

I hadn’t seen him all morning. His office door remained firmly shut, no messages, no glances, nothing.

The worst part?

I had no one to talk to about this.

No one to tell me if I had just ruined my entire life by crossing a line with Alexander Blackwood.

A sharp ding pulled me from my thoughts.

A message.

Alexander Blackwood: My office. Now.

My breath caught.

I stared at the screen, my stomach twisting into a thousand knots.

This was it.

I had no idea if I was walking into a confession or a disaster.

But there was only one way to find out.

---

I stepped inside his office my heart pounding.

Alexander was leaning against his desk with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

The air was thick with tension.

He said nothing.

Just studied me, his gaze dark and unreadable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“We need to be clear on something.”

I forced myself to nod. “Okay.”

He took a step forward.

Then another.

Until he was close enough for me to feel his heat.

“You work for me.”

My throat went dry. “I know.”

“This—” he gestured between us, “—should never have happened.”

A sharp pain twisted in my chest.

“So, that’s it?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded. “You’re pretending it didn’t happen?”

His jaw clenched. “I’m saying it can’t happen again.”

My breath hitched.

“Why?”

His gaze locked onto mine.

“Because I don’t lose control.”

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine.

But then his fingers brushed my arm—barely a touch.

And in that moment—

I knew he was lying.

He already had.

And we both knew it.

---

.

The way his voice tightened when he said it can’t happen again. The way his fingers brushed my skin as if testing his own self-control. The way his eyes darkened, pupils blown wide, betraying everything his words tried to deny.

Alexander Blackwood was a man of power, a man who thrived on control.

And right now?

He was losing it.

I took a slow step forward, watching his jaw tighten. “You think saying the words makes it true?”

His expression was carved from stone. “It has to be.”

I tilted my head. “And yet, you don’t seem convinced.”

His breath hitched.

Then, suddenly—

His hand was on my wrist his fingers wrapping around it like a shackle. His grip wasn’t hard, but it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

“Don’t,” he murmured.

“Don’t what?” I whispered.

“Push me.”

My heart pounded. “Why?”

His gaze burned into mine, dark and dangerous. “Because you won’t like what happens if I break.”

The challenge in his voice sent heat spiraling through me.

I was playing with fire.

And I was about to get burned.

---

The day dragged on, and Alexander stayed true to his word.

No touches.

No stolen glances.

No hints that anything had ever happened between us.

It was infuriating.

I sat at my desk, typing away mindlessly, while he held meeting after meeting, his voice calm, commanding, utterly unaffected.

And maybe that was what made it worse.

I was affected.

By the time the office emptied out for the evening, my nerves were fried.

The logical thing would be to go home.

To shower, sleep, and pretend I didn’t care.

But instead—

I found myself standing outside his office door.

I hesitated.

But my fingers curled into a fist, and before I could stop myself—

I knocked.

There was a long silence.

Then—

“Come in.”

I pushed the door open.

Alexander stood near his desk, his jacket discarded, his sleeves rolled up. His tie was loose, his hair slightly ruffled like he had run his hands through it one too many times.

He looked frustrated.

And unfairly gorgeous.

His gaze flicked to me. “What do you need, Miss Carter?”

Miss Carter.

Back to formalities.

I swallowed, closing the door behind me. “I need clarity.”

His jaw ticked. “About what?”

I stepped closer.

His shoulders tensed.

“You tell me it can’t happen again,” I murmured, “but you don’t act like it.”

His hand tightened into a fist. “And what does that mean?”

“It means—” I took another step, now only inches away. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Mr. Blackwood. But you can’t lie to me.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

And then, before I could process it—

His hand shot out, gripping my waist.

I gasped, my body colliding against his as he backed me up against the wall.

“You think this is a game?” His voice was low.

“No.” My pulse pounded. “I think this is real.”

His eyes burned into mine. “And if I break?”

I swallowed hard.

“Then we break together.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest.

Then his lips crashed against mine.

---

The kiss was fire.

Rough, raw and hungry.

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, as if he wanted to erase the space between us. I moaned into his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“You drive me insane,” he muttered against my lips.

I gasped as he hoisted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

“Then stop fighting it,” I whispered.

His fingers dug into my thighs, pinning me against the wall. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

I met his gaze, my breath uneven. “Then show me.”

Then he was kissing me again, harder this time.

His control was slipping, and I felt it in every touch, every press of his body against mine.

But just as fast as it started—

He stopped.

His hands flexed against my skin, his breath ragged.

Then he pulled away.

I barely managed to stand as he put distance between us, his hands raking through his hair.

“This—” his voice was hoarse, like he had barely managed to stop himself, “—this is why I said it couldn’t happen again.”

I swallowed, my body still burning. “Why?”

He turned, eyes dark with restraint.

“Because once I start, I don’t stop.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine.

I should have been afraid.

Instead, I stepped forward. “Then don’t stop.”

His gaze locked onto mine, something dangerous flickering in his expression.

And I knew then—

I was playing a game with a man who never lost.

But the real question was—

Who would break first?

---

The moment stretched between us, thick with tension.

Alexander's chest rose and fell unevenly, his dark eyes locked onto mine as if debating whether to step back—or give in.

I stood there my pulse pounding, daring him to break.

Daring myself to break.

Then—

There was a sharp knock at the door.

We both froze.

His expression shuttered instantly, the raw hunger in his gaze vanishing like it had never been there.

"Come in," he said his voice perfectly controlled.

I turned just as the door opened, my body still thrumming with the heat of his touch.

Logan, Alexander’s head of security, stepped inside. His gaze flicked between us, assessing, but he was too professional to let his expression betray anything.

"Sir, there’s an urgent matter that requires your attention"

Alexander exhaled, stepping away from me completely. "I'll be there in a moment."

Logan nodded, but before he left, he glanced at me.

And I knew.

He knew.

The thought made my stomach tighten.

I wasn’t sure if it was shame, excitement, or something in between.

As soon as the door shut, I let out a shaky breath.

"You should go," Alexander said, his voice cool and distant.

I clenched my fists. "Is that an order?"

His jaw tightened. "It's for the best."

I should have left.

But I was sick of being dismissed.

I stepped forward, my voice quieter this time. "You're not as in control as you think you are."

His eyes darkened.

For a moment, I thought he’d say something. Do something.

But instead, he turned away.

Dismissed. Again.

I swallowed the frustration bubbling in my chest and walked out.

But as I left, one thought burned in my mind.

I was done playing by his rules.

---

The next morning, I arrived at work early, determined to ignore the weight of last night.

Determined to pretend I wasn’t affected.

But as soon as I stepped into the office, I knew something was wrong.

There were whispers and stares.

I made my way to my desk, trying to ignore the way people looked at me.

Then Sophia, one of the senior executives, leaned against my desk with a smirk.

"Interesting rumors are floating around this morning," she mused.

I forced a casual smile. "Oh?"

She tilted her head. "Apparently, our dear CEO is very interested in his assistant."

My stomach clenched.

I forced a laugh. "That’s ridiculous."

"Is it?" Sophia arched a brow. "Logan wasn’t exactly subtle when he left Alexander’s office last night."

Shit.

I kept my expression neutral. "Sounds like office gossip to me."

Sophia shrugged, clearly entertained by my reaction. "Maybe. But if I were you, I’d be careful."

I met her gaze. "Careful of what?"

She leaned in slightly. "Of what happens to women who think they can get too close to Alexander Blackwood."

A chill ran down my spine.

But before I could ask what she meant, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the floor.

Hours passed, and I buried myself in work, determined not to think about last night—or the whispers still circulating.

Then, in the late afternoon, my phone buzzed.

Alexander: My office. Now.

I stared at the message, heat rushing through me.

I took a steadying breath and stood, making my way to his office.

When I walked in, he was standing by the window.

The door clicked shut behind me.

"You wanted to see me?" I kept my tone professional.

He turned slowly, his gaze meeting mine.

And then—

"Marry me."

The words hit me like a slap.

I blinked. "What?"

His expression was unreadable. "You heard me."

I let out a stunned laugh. "Is this a joke?"

"No." His voice was calm and certain.

I stared at him, completely thrown. "You cannot be serious."

He stepped forward. "I need a wife, and you need job security."

I gaped at him. "That is not how this works!"

His lips twitched slightly. "It could be."

I shook my head. "You’re insane."

"And yet," he murmured, "you're still standing here."

I exhaled sharply. "Why? Why me?"

His gaze held mine. "Because you’re the only woman I trust not to fall in love with me."