Chapter 3: The First Night of Control
1219 Words
Amelia’s heart slammed against her ribs.
The air between them was thick—with tension, with anger, with something even more dangerous.
Ethan stood there, unshaken, his presence overwhelming the space around her. His words still echoed in her ears.
"You’re mine now."
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You’re insane if you think I’ll let you control me,” she hissed.
Ethan smirked. A slow, knowing smirk.
“I don’t think, Amelia. I know.”
She hated the way her name rolled off his tongue. Like a promise. Like a claim.
She shook her head, stepping back until her spine hit the wall. “You can’t do this. I’ll leave, and you’ll never see me again.”
His silver-gray eyes darkened, something almost amused flashing through them. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
Before she could react, he moved.
In a blink, Ethan was right in front of her, his hand slamming against the wall beside her head. His body wasn’t touching hers—but he was too close, too warm, too intoxicating.
Amelia’s breath hitched.
“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” he murmured, his voice silky smooth but laced with quiet danger.
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t find her voice.
Ethan’s head tilted slightly. “You have nowhere to go, Amelia. Elias left you. He gave me everything—including you.”
Her stomach twisted. “I am not a possession.”
Ethan chuckled. “Then stop acting like one.”
Her chest heaved. She wanted to scream at him, to shove him away—but her body felt frozen, trapped under the weight of his gaze.
Finally, she forced herself to look him in the eyes, lifting her chin in defiance. “I don’t belong to you.”
For a moment, Ethan just watched her, his face unreadable.
Then, slowly, he leaned in.
His breath was warm against her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
“You will.”
Amelia’s pulse spiked.
Something dark, possessive, and undeniably alluring laced his voice. She hated how it sent heat rushing through her.
She had to get away.
Her hands shot up to push him back—but the moment she made contact with his chest, his fingers closed around her wrist.
Effortlessly.
Like he’d been waiting for her to try.
His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm. Unyielding.
“Let me go,” she whispered, hating how her voice trembled.
Ethan’s gaze flickered to her lips before returning to her eyes. “Why?”
Her throat tightened. “Because I said so.”
A smirk tugged at his lips. “That’s cute.”
She shoved harder this time, and to her surprise, he released her. But instead of feeling relieved, a sudden chill crept over her.
Ethan took a step back, his hands sliding into his pockets, but the way he looked at her made it clear—he was letting her go because he wanted to, not because she made him.
And that realization sent a different kind of fear through her.
“Go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the door. “Run. But remember, Amelia…”
Her fingers curled around the doorknob.
Ethan tilted his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I always get what I want.”
A shiver ran down her spine.
She yanked open the door and practically ran into the hallway, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts.
She had to get out of here.
Out of his world.
Later That Night…
Amelia threw her suitcase onto the bed, grabbing clothes and stuffing them inside without caring if they wrinkled.
She was leaving.
She didn’t care where—anywhere but here.
Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, opening her flight booking app. But before she could even type in her destination, a deep voice sent ice through her veins.
“Going somewhere?”
Her blood ran cold.
Her breath hitched as she turned.
Ethan was already inside.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. Completely at ease.
Her fingers tightened around her phone. “How the hell did you get in?”
Ethan twirled a key between his fingers. “Elias gave me a spare.”
Her stomach dropped.
Of course, he did.
She took a slow step back. “You can’t just walk in here.”
Ethan pushed off the doorframe, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’re still thinking like a woman with choices.”
Her heart pounded. “I do have a choice.”
His lips curved. “Do you?”
She turned toward her suitcase, her hands trembling as she reached for it. But the moment she did, Ethan was there.
Faster than she expected.
His hand closed over hers, his grip warm and impossibly steady.
Amelia gasped, jerking her gaze up to his. “Ethan—”
His fingers curled around her wrist, pulling her closer.
Her body collided with his—hard, unyielding muscle against soft curves.
Her pulse skipped.
Ethan’s free hand came up to her chin, tilting it up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His touch was soft, yet commanding.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low, “do you feel nothing?”
Amelia’s breath hitched.
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to say she hated him, that he disgusted her.
But when his fingers brushed against the side of her neck, her skin burned.
Her traitorous body leaned into his warmth.
Ethan’s smirk deepened, his thumb tracing over her pulse point. “You can lie to yourself all you want, sweetheart.”
His lips brushed the shell of her ear.
“But I already know the truth.”
Her breathing hitched.
Ethan pulled back slightly, his gaze dropping to her lips.
“Do you want me to prove it?”
The air grew thick between them.
Amelia’s heart pounded. She should push him away. She should slap him, scream at him—do something.
But she didn’t.
She hated him.
But god help her—she wanted to know how he tasted.
And before she could stop herself, before she could even think, she closed the distance.
Her lips crashed against his in a desperate, angry kiss.
Ethan didn’t hesitate.
He caught her waist, pulling her flush against him, deepening the kiss with an intoxicating hunger.
His hand slid up her spine, tangling into her hair, tilting her head back as he took full control.
Heat coiled low in her stomach, spiraling out of control.
She should stop.
She should—
Ethan pulled away just enough to whisper against her lips, “Now, that’s more like it.”
Amelia snapped back to reality.
Her hands shot to his chest, shoving him away. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her breathing ragged.
Ethan smirked, his thumb brushing his lower lip as if memorizing the taste of her.
“Don’t run again,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet warning.
“Next time, I won’t be so gentle.”
Amelia’s breath caught.
Her body was still burning from his touch.
And the most terrifying part?
She didn’t know if she wanted to run… or let him catch her.
To Be Continued….
- Writer
