Chapter Four: Bound Without Chains
1114 Words
The door shut behind me with a soft click that sounded louder than thunder.
Silence wrapped around us, thick and intentional.
I didn’t move.
Neither did he.
The penthouse was dim, lit only by the city lights outside—tall glass windows that framed the skyline like a painting. Everything inside was stone and steel. Sleek. Expensive. Controlled.
Just like him.
He stepped forward—slowly—like a predator stalking his prey, but with the elegance of a man who knew I wasn’t running.
Not anymore.
“You don’t talk much,” he murmured, voice soft as a warning.
“Neither do you.”
His lips twitched. “That’s because I listen.”
He circled behind me, slow enough for my breath to hitch. I could feel the heat of him—just inches away—his presence brushing against my skin like the kiss of flame.
“You’re tense,” he said.
I swallowed. “I’m not—”
He touched me.
One hand on my bare shoulder. Barely a whisper. But it shot through me like a lightning bolt.
“You are,” he whispered. “Every part of you is tight. Holding on.”
His fingers slid down my arm, slow… deliberate… until they reached my wrist.
“I could teach you how to let go.”
My pulse thudded beneath his touch. Loud. Betraying.
He stepped closer. His chest brushed my back, lips near my ear.
“But only if you want me to.”
I closed my eyes.
I shouldn’t have come.
I should’ve walked away.
But all I could think about was his hands. His voice. The promise wrapped in every word he said.
“I want to forget,” I whispered.
His fingers laced with mine. “Then let me help you remember something better.”
He turned me around—gently, but firmly. And I let him.
Our bodies aligned like they’d done it before.
He took my face in his hands, thumbs brushing the corners of my mouth.
“I won’t f**k you tonight.”
My breath caught. “Why not?”
“Because tonight,” he said, eyes locked to mine, “I want you to beg.”
He kissed me then.
Not rushed. Not rough. But deep. Devouring.
His tongue slid into my mouth, slow and claiming, while his hands moved to my waist, gripping like he needed to memorize every inch. My knees buckled. He held me up.
And still… he didn’t rush.
He kissed like a man who wanted time to stop. Who had nowhere to be except here—with me, under him, inside me eventually—but not yet.
He pulled back just enough to see me. His lips were wet, swollen. So were mine.
“You taste like fear and fire,” he whispered.
“I want both.”
Chapter Five: Unraveling
I didn’t know when I stopped resisting.
Maybe it was when his lips brushed against the pulse in my neck, or when his hand slid lower, palm pressed against the curve of my hip.
Maybe it was when he whispered, “Tell me you want this, Lena.”
I couldn’t stop the tremble that ran through me. His words were like fire—luring, consuming—and I was drawn in, powerless to fight the burn.
I should’ve said no.
I should’ve told him to stop.
But the truth was, I didn’t want him to stop. Not anymore.
I wanted him closer. Inside me. Everywhere.
“I want this,” I breathed. The words felt foreign. Vulnerable. But they were the truth. The raw, unguarded truth that slipped past the walls I’d spent years building.
He stepped back just enough to look at me, his eyes gleaming with something darker than desire. “Good. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”
The tension in the air was unbearable. I could feel every inch of him, but there was still so much distance between us. I wanted to close that gap. I reached for his tie, yanked it loose with more urgency than I’d intended.
His smile was slow. Amused. But he didn’t stop me.
“Impatient,” he murmured.
I didn’t answer him.
I couldn’t.
All I could do was pull his tie the rest of the way off, throwing it aside like it was the last thing I cared about.
Then I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the taut muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. He was hard—every inch of him. He was a man of control, of power. But now, in this moment, I could feel the storm inside him.
His fingers slid down my arms, tracing the line of my wrist, stopping just above my elbow, before pulling me closer. His lips were just inches from mine, enough to feel his breath against my skin.
“Tell me you trust me,” he whispered.
I wanted to lie. I wanted to say I didn’t.
But my body betrayed me again.
“I trust you.”
It was all he needed.
Darian’s mouth crashed against mine again, this time with a hunger that felt as wild as the storm raging inside me. His kiss was rough, desperate, and I opened for him without hesitation, meeting him with the same fiery need that had been building since the moment we’d locked eyes.
His hands were everywhere—familiar, possessive—as if he’d already decided that I was his, and nothing would change that.
His lips moved lower, trailing down the curve of my neck, tasting my skin like he couldn’t get enough.
“God, you feel so damn good,” he muttered, his voice a rasp in the air.
I didn’t have the words to answer. I could only feel. Feel his lips, his hands, his body against mine. Each touch, each kiss made the world outside disappear, leaving only the suffocating heat between us.
His hands moved lower, finding the hem of my dress, lifting it with a slow, deliberate touch. The cool air hit my legs, but the warmth of his touch followed, skin on skin.
I gasped, hands gripping his shoulders as his lips moved to my ear. “Are you sure you want this, Lena?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.
I nodded, breathless. “Yes. I want you.”
His eyes darkened, and he kissed me again, deeply this time—slow, as if savoring every second.
When he finally pulled away, his gaze locked on mine, and I saw the raw hunger in his eyes.
“Then I’ll give you what you want.”
- Writer
