Sin & Silk

Chapter 3: Marked Lips,broken promises

Ashley

The woman’s smile was sharp enough to cut glass as she stepped closer, her eyes raking over me like I was something she’d scrape off her designer heels.

“Fiancée?” she repeated, tilting her head at Riley like she was waiting for him to laugh. “Since when do you do the whole commitment thing?”

Riley didn’t answer her. He didn’t even look at her. His hand slid around my waist instead, firm, possessive, his palm pressing flat against my lower back. I stiffened, but he pulled me flush against him, my bag dropping to the gravel with a soft thud I barely heard over the hammering of my heart.

“Since now,” Riley said, his voice low, deadly calm. “Ashley, this is Vanessa. She doesn’t matter.”

Vanessa’s perfectly painted lips twitched at that. She stepped closer, so close her perfume tangled with his cologne, cloying and sweet. “We’ll see about that,” she purred. Then she reached out, trailing one red-tipped nail down the lapel of Riley’s suit. Her eyes flicked to mine, daring me to do something about it.

Before I could react, Riley caught her wrist. His grip looked gentle, but Vanessa’s sharp inhale told me it wasn’t. His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.

“Go home, Vanessa.”

She pulled her hand back like he’d burned her. Her smile stayed in place, but her eyes were cold as ice as she turned to me. “Good luck, sweetheart. You’ll need it.”

Then she pivoted on her stiletto heel and disappeared into the shadows of the driveway, the echo of her steps swallowed by the night.

I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Riley’s hand was still on my back, his thumb brushing slow circles just above the waistband of my jeans, too intimate, too possessive. I jerked away, but his fingers tightened, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.

“What was that?” I demanded. “Who was she?”

Riley’s eyes glittered under the porch light. “No one you need to worry about.”

“Seems like I do.” I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge. His body was a wall of heat and power and something darker I didn’t want to name.

He leaned down, his mouth so close to mine I felt his breath on my lips. “Jealous, Ashley?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t care who you—”

His mouth crashed onto mine before I could finish.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was a claim,punishing, demanding, his teeth catching my lower lip until I gasped. He took advantage of that, his tongue sweeping in, tasting, devouring.

I should have pushed him away. I should have slapped him, screamed, run. But my hands curled into his jacket instead, gripping the expensive fabric like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

His other hand slid to my hip, fingers digging in just enough to make me feel how easily he could break me apart and put me back together.

When he pulled back, my lips felt swollen, my breath ragged. He was so close I could see the flecks of darker gray in his eyes, the cruel twist of his mouth as he studied me like he was daring me to deny what just happened.

“Don’t ever think about running,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth where he’d bitten me. “You’re mine now, Ashley. Every piece of you.”

I hated him in that moment. Hated him for the way my body betrayed me, for the heat pooling low in my stomach, for the shiver that raced down my spine when his thumb brushed my lip again.

“You can’t own me,” I whispered.

His smile was all teeth and shadows. “Can’t I?”

He stepped back then, leaving me cold and breathless on the gravel. Without looking at me again, he grabbed my bag, slung it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing, and strode up the steps to the front door.

“Come inside, Ashley,” he called over his shoulder. “Or stay out here, but if you’re not in your room in five minutes, I’ll come find you myself.”

The threat wasn’t empty. It was a promise.

I stood there for a heartbeat longer, the taste of him still on my lips, my pulse roaring in my ears. Then I forced my legs to move.

Inside, the house was all polished floors and cold elegance, marble that felt too pristine to walk on, chandeliers that looked like they belonged in a palace. I followed Riley down a long hallway, my eyes darting to the locked doors, the rooms I wasn’t allowed to know yet.

He stopped at the top of a grand staircase, dropped my bag at my feet. “Your room’s at the end of the hall,” he said. “Get some sleep.”

I lifted my chin. “And if I don’t?”

His eyes burned into mine, a cruel glint of amusement sparking there. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to tuck you in myself.”

He turned and disappeared down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous house, leaving me alone but not free.

Because even as I clutched my bag and stumbled toward the guest room that wasn’t a home, one truth settled like fire in my chest:

I might hate him.

But part of me, the darkest, most broken part wanted him to come back and break me all over again.