Page 68 of Imprisoned

Axel’s eyes darken. “Come here.”

I circle my desk, and he pulls me onto his lap, the chains cool against my skin. “Saturday,” he purrs against my neck. “Everything’s set?”

“Yes.” I arch into his touch. “The money’s moved, the route’s planned. But Axel, if they discover I found these files?—”

His grip tightens possessively. “No one touches what’s mine.”

His mouth claims mine with fierce intensity. This kiss feels different—desperate, almost tender beneath the hunger. I melt against him as his hands roam my body.

“You’re taking such risks for me,” he murmurs, nipping my earlobe. “My brave little pixie.”

I gasp as he shifts me, positioning me exactly where he wants me. “I need you,” I confess. “I don’t care about the risks anymore.”

His hands slide under my shirt, fingers skimming my ribs. My skin buzzes wherever he touches me, like electricity dancing across my nerve endings.

“Saturday feels too far away.” I thread my fingers through his hair. “Every minute in this place feels like borrowed time.”

Axel pulls back enough to gaze into my eyes. Something shifts in his expression—a flicker of tenderness beneath the hunger.

“You were searching for that evidence, weren’t you?” He traces my jaw with his thumb. “Looking for reasons to convince yourself I hadn’t ordered it.”

My throat tightens unexpectedly. “I knew you were with me when it happened. But I needed to be sure you hadn’t... arranged it somehow. Paid someone to carry it out.”

“And now you do.” His voice drops lower. “What happens when we’re out there, Willow? When you see what I am, without these walls to contain me?”

The question catches me off guard. I’ve avoided thinking about the reality of our future, focused on the escape, freedom, and him.

“I already know what you are,” I say, surprising myself with the steadiness in my voice. “I’ve read every file, every crime scene report. I’ve studied your mind, and I’m still here.”

His grip tightens on my waist, almost painfully. “You think you know, but reading about the monster isn’t the same as living with him.”

“I’ve already crossed every line.” My fingers trace the tattoo peeking from his collar. “I’m embezzling money. I’m lying to the police. I’m planning a prison break. Maybe I’m becoming a monster too.”

Something darkens in his eyes. “No. You’re something else entirely.” He pulls me closer, chains loose and rattling. “Something rare.” The hardness in his eyes softens, revealing a vulnerability I’ve never seen before.

Axel’s hands cradle my face as if I’m something precious. His touch, usually demanding and forceful, turns gentle. When his lips meet mine, it’s not the possessive kiss I’ve grown accustomed to—it’s slow, deliberate, almost reverent.

“Let me feel you,” he whispers against my mouth. “Not just take you.”

I nod, unable to form words, as he unbuttons my blouse. His fingertips trace my collarbone with unexpected delicacy. The chains puddled around his ankles clink softly as he moves, a jarring reminder of where we are, who we are, but at this moment, that reality seems distant.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my shoulder, my neck, the hollow of my throat.

When I reach for his shirt, his hands guide mine, our fingers intertwining in a startlingly intimate way—more so than anything we’ve done before.

His mouth finds mine again as I sink onto him, both of us sighing at the connection. This time, there’s no rush. Instead of the frantic pace we usually set, we move together slowly, savoring each sensation.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

I open my eyes to find his staring into mine, unguarded—almost vulnerable if I didn’t know better. The green depths hold something I never thought possible—genuine affection.

“I see you,” I declare, stroking his face. “All of you.”

For the first time, I feel I’m making love with the man, not just the monster. With each gentle movement, each tender touch, I’m discovering parts of him he’s kept buried beneath layers of violence and control.

He holds me close, our foreheads pressed together. And when pleasure washes over us, it’s not only the explosive, shattering release we’ve known before but something deeper, richer—a wave that connects rather than consumes.

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