Growing Feelings
1545 Words
Darius pinned Kamala's hands above her head, his strong grip keeping her firmly in place. He leaned in, his breath warm against her face. “Don’t ever try what you did earlier,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
“Let me go, you asshole!” Kamala protested, squirming beneath him.
But Darius didn’t budge. Instead, he studied her, taking in the way her cheeks flushed with anger and how her juicy lips parted slightly, inviting him in. “I want something from you,” he said slowly, his voice dripping with a mix of charm and authority. “Marry me for just a year. After that, you’ll be free.”
Kamala’s eyes widened in shock. “What the hell are you talking about? No way in hell!” she shouted, incredulous.
Before she could say anything more, Darius closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. It was deep and intoxicating, his mouth moving against hers with a hunger that sent shockwaves through her body. The taste of him—bold, electric—overwhelmed her senses, and despite her anger, a soft moan escaped her lips. No one had ever kissed her like this before, and the feeling was both thrilling and terrifying.
Darius pulled back slightly, a teasing smirk on his face. “Seems like you’ve never kissed anyone before. Bet this is your first time,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Kamala glared at him, still dazed from the kiss. “Go to hell!” she spat, her voice shaky but defiant.
Darius stood up, his laughter echoing in the room. “Don’t even think about getting me arrested. You’re pushing me to lock you up for good.”
With that, he walked out, locking the door behind him. Kamala lay back on the bed, her heart pounding. This isn’t the life I want. I’ll never marry him, no matter how pretty he looks. But the kiss... it lingered in her mind, igniting a confusing mix of desire and fear. I have to get out of here. I can’t lose myself to him.
An hour later,
Darius returned to the room, his expression unreadable. “Are you calm now?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
Kamala shot him a glare. “You can’t force me to marry you and then lock me up like some kind of prisoner,” she snapped.
Darius smirked, clearly amused. “I don’t want you escaping,” he replied, stepping closer to her. “If you agree to marry me for a year, I can give you a better life. You and your parents.”
“Like hell, I’ll do that!” Kamala shot back, her voice rising with anger. “You think I’d fall for that bullshit?”
Darius’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of seriousness crossing his face. “I’ll give you two days to think about it. Consider what I can do for your mom. She deserves a better life, too,” he said, his tone firm.
Kamala hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. “I want my phone,” she demanded, crossing her arms defiantly.
“In two days, I’ll get you a new one. By then, I expect you to have made your decision,” Darius replied, his voice smooth but commanding.
She didn’t know what to think. Why was he doing all this? She glanced at him, taking in his chiseled jaw, the tattoos that peeked out from beneath his shirt, and the rich scent of his cologne that filled the air. It made her heart race, even as she tried to resist him.
Darius held her hand gently, his fingers brushing against her skin as he admired her dress, his gaze lingering in a way that made her stomach flip. “You look good in that dress,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes. “I can’t help but think dirty thoughts.”
“In your dreams!” Kamala retorted, yanking her hand away from him, her cheeks flushing.
Darius laughed softly, unfazed by her defiance. “Come on, follow me downstairs. You need to eat breakfast with me.”
Kamala hesitated, caught between her anger and the hunger gnawing at her. “I don’t want to eat with you,” she said, but she felt her resolve weakening.
“Too bad,” he replied, turning to walk away. “You’re coming whether you like it or not.”
With a reluctant sigh, Kamala followed him, unsure of what awaited her at the breakfast table but knowing it couldn’t be good.
In the dining room.
Kamala sat at a beautifully set table filled with delicious dishes. The aroma wafted through the air, making her stomach growl. Darius sat across from her, looking relaxed, while Ciara stood at a distance, waiting for further instructions.
“Do you need anything else, boss?” Ciara asked, glancing between them.
Darius waved his hand dismissively. “I’m okay, Ciara. You can go.”
Ciara nodded and left, munching on a pastry as she walked out of the room. Kamala looked around, taking in the lavish decor—gold accents, a crystal chandelier, and artwork that must have cost a fortune. She wondered just how rich Darius really was.
“Wow, this place is like a palace,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at the assets. “How much are you worth, Darius?”
Darius caught her eye, a teasing smirk on his lips. “You seem observant. Curious about my wealth, are we?”
Kamala narrowed her eyes. “I want to know who you really are.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Soon enough, you’ll find out.”
“Is that so? Are you going to kidnap me and hold me for ransom?” Kamala shot back, trying to maintain her bravado.
Darius chuckled, unfazed by her words. “I’m taking you out tonight to Bomb Club. You’ll love it.”
“I’m not going,” she said firmly, her irritation bubbling up. “You can’t force me to go with you.”
Darius leaned forward, his gaze intense. “We have an agreement, Kamala. You can’t leave, even if you want to. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
Kamala tried to push his buttons. “You think you can control me? I’ll never let you.”
“Keep trying,” Darius said smoothly, a hint of menace in his tone. “Until I have every inch of you, and you’ll beg me to stop.”
A shiver ran down her spine at his words, but she quickly composed herself. “I’m done eating,” she declared, standing up abruptly.
Darius raised an eyebrow, watching her with interest. “Really? You’re just going to walk away?”
“Yes, I am,” she shot back, turning on her heel and marching toward her room, her heart racing.
A few hours later, Darius leaned against a marble column in the garden, taking slow drags from a cigarette while sipping vodka from a crystal glass. The evening air was warm, and the soft glow of the sunset painted the sky in shades of orange and pink. It was peaceful, but Darius's mind was far from calm.
Just then, Conor, his right-hand man, walked toward him, a serious expression on his face. “Darius,” he said, breaking the silence. “We need to talk about the next shipment.”
Darius took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. “What’s the situation?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
“Our opponents are doing everything they can to sabotage it,” Conor replied, running a hand through his hair. “They’ve been putting pressure on our suppliers, trying to cut us off.”
Darius frowned, a fire igniting in his chest. “I’ll take care of that. No one messes with my business and gets away with it.”
Conor hesitated, then shifted the conversation. “And what about Kamala? Have you thought this through?”
Darius smirked, his thoughts drifting to her. “I’ll marry her. It’s the best way to take over my father’s assets.”
Conor’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Mr. Damon might not approve of this… arrangement. Kamala’s life could be at risk if he finds out.”
Darius snapped, anger flaring in his voice. “Don’t tell me what to do, Conor! I know what I’m getting into.”
Conor raised his hands in a gesture of peace, nodding slowly. “Okay, I get it. Just be careful. You know how your father is.”
Darius took another sip of vodka, the burn warming his throat. “I’ll handle my father. Just make sure everything is set for the shipment. I don’t want any screw-ups.”
Conor nodded again, but concern lingered in his eyes. “Right. Just remember, Darius, things can get messy. Keep Kamala safe.”
Darius leaned back against the column, his expression unreadable. “I always do.”
As Conor walked away, Darius took another drag of his cigarette, contemplating his next move. The stakes were high, but he was willing to risk it all.
- Writer
