HisPossessiveTouch
1189 Words
Ethan whispered in my ear, "Smile." He held my waist tightly with one hand. "But just for me."
The morning sun came in through the thin curtains and warmed my skin. As the stylist shaped my hair into soft waves, I sat at the counter and looked at myself.
She said softly, "Beautiful," as she pinned the last strand in place. "Yes, Ms. Monroe, you are ready."
I tried hard to smile. "Thank you."
My eyes moved over my mirror and saw a black off-shoulder silk dress that hugged my curves, tiny diamond earrings, soft, smokey eyeshadow, and lips that were shaking with nude gloss.
The woman who stared back looked strong. Feeling sure. Not touchable.
But I was shaking inside.
As soon as the bedroom door opened, the stylist moved out of the way. When Ethan walked in, he was wearing a black suit that fit his broad shoulders just right. His ice blue eyes looked at me from head to toe, and his jaw tensed up a little.
He spoke softly and said, "Turn."
I slowly stood up and turned around. His cold look made my face burn. When I turned around to face him again, I couldn't read his face.
"Great," he finally said.
I clenched my hands together. "Do you like this look for your doll today?"
His eyes got darker. He walked over to me and stopped just inches away. His clean smell made me feel dizzy and sharp all over.
He got close to me and kissed my ear. "Ariana, watch what you say." Today is a big day.
I took a deep breath. "Where are we going?"
"Our first time in public," he said, stepping back to look me in the eyes. "The Investor Gala for Valentine's Day."
My chest got tight. What about the one at the Imperial?
"Yes." He touched me softly but firmly behind the ear and straightened out a strand of hair. "You'll stay with me." When I tell you, smile. "Do not talk unless you are asked."
I moved away a little and gave him the stink eye. "What if I don't?"
He made a cold grin with his lips. "Then I'll remind you who owns you."
It was quiet on the way to the Imperial Hotel. As the car drove through the busy streets, I felt sick to my stomach. Ethan sat next to me and spent time on his phone, scrolling through it with cold precision.
He was the first one to come out when we got there and offered me his hand. I thought about it for a second before putting my shaking hand in his. It felt like he owned me as he helped me get out of the car.
As soon as we walked onto the red carpet, the bright lights from the cameras made it impossible for me to see. Journalists yelled Ethan's name until their voices mixed together to make a wild roar.
He pulled me close and put his hand around my waist. His thumb was pressing on my hipbone in a protective way. His body was warm against mine, and his smell filled the room.
He whispered in my ear, "Smile," and his lips touched my skin. "But just for me."
I forced a smile while blinking to block the flash from the camera. As he pulled me closer and kissed my head for the cameras, my cheeks burned with shame.
We walked into the big ballroom, a beautiful hall with marble floors, crystal lighting, and hundreds of guests wearing designer gowns and well-tailored tuxedos. The air had a mix of the smells of champagne and valuable cologne.
"Ethan Hawke," said an older investor with a big smile. "And this has to be your fiancée there."
Ethan's hold on my waist got a little tighter. It's Aria Monroe, yes.
A man grabbed my hand and gave it a soft kiss. It's my pleasure, Ms. Monroe. "You're more beautiful than your pictures."
I smiled nicely, but Ethan's arm went up around my waist and pulled me close to his side before I could say anything. His cold lips touched my ear.
He said in a dark voice, "Don't ever smile at another man like that again."
I felt shame and heat all over my body, and my chest got tight. I tried to breathe regularly while swallowing hard because my knees felt weak.
I excused myself from dinner to go to the bathroom. My phone rang with a text message as I walked down the marble hall.
Dad: Where are you? I need cash right now.
I shut my eyes because tears hurt. The screen went dark as Ethan grabbed the phone from my hand before I could type back.
I gasped and turned to look at him. "Give it back!"
He read the message in silence with cold blue eyes. There was a pulse in his temple from a tightened mouth.
"Try to save him still?" He asked in a soft voice that was very calm.
I whispered, "Please," and reached for my phone. "Give it back."
He put it in his pocket. "No." From now on, you don't have to worry about your dad.
My eyes got really big with fear. "That's not allowed!"
He leaned in close and whispered, "Watch me." His lips touched my cheek.
I looked at him with a heavy heart as I felt hate fill my body. It was shameful, but beneath it was desire. A sick, dark desire for the strength in his words. The way his touch made me feel protective.
Took my hand and led me back to the hall. His hold was strong and wouldn't let go. He kept his hand on my leg under the table the rest of dinner, rubbing my skin in slow, dominant circles with his thumb. I went crazy with need and anger that I couldn't say out loud.
He would lean down and press his lips against my neck every time I faked a smile for investors. His touch would mark me.
"You're mine," he said in a whisper, and his breath felt hot on my skin. "Remember that always."
My body lied to me by arching a little toward his touch, even though my heart was screaming in disgust.
It was quiet on the way home, and the city lights were hard to make out. My heart was pounding, so I leaned against the car door and stared out the window.
All of a sudden, Ethan put his hand on my chin and pulled my face toward him. I couldn't put my finger on what was in his eyes, but they were dark and stormy.
He leaned in close and put his lips on mine. It was so close that I could taste his breath. I squished my lips together in shock, and desire rushed through my body.
Then he stepped back sharply, and his eyes turned icy.
He said in a whisper, "Don't ever test my patience again."
He turned away, leaving me shaking and out of breath in the dark. My lips were burning with need that wasn't met.
- Writer
