Page 59 of Sinful Obsession
His hands moved with deliberate care, peeling off my soaked shirt, my jeans, my padded bra, and finally my panties.
My cheeks burned as his fingers brushed my skin, clinical yet intimate.
I shivered, not just from the cold but from the weight of his touch, the way his eyes lingered on my bare skin—not with lust, but with something deeper, something that made my heart stutter.
He tossed the wet clothes into a corner, grabbed a thick duvet from the bed, and wrapped it around me, tucking it tightly as if to shield me from the world.
Then he shed his own shirt, revealing the scarred expanse of his chest, and slid under the duvet beside me, his body a furnace against my chilled skin.
“Will this keep you warm, or should I run a bath?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, though still edged with that cold Moretti steel.
“No, you’ve done enough. Thank you,” I whispered, avoiding his gaze, my voice barely audible.
His eyes darkened, a flicker of hurt flashing across his face. “Enough? Charlotte... what does that even mean?” His voice cracked, exposing the man beneath the monster. “Do you really think I’d let you freeze? That I’d let anyone—or anything—hurt you?”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I just... I don’t know what you want from me, Cassian. You’ve kept me here, against my will, with your punishment always hanging over me.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away. “You speak of being kidnapped—it’s convenient. But do you even realize I risked my life to pull you out of that fire? Twice now. Do you know what it means to ignore my own limits, to fight through danger just to make sure you live?”
He move closer, his voice sharp, threaded with possessiveness. “Be grateful, Charlotte. This... protecting you from everyone who wants to tear you apart... it’s the least I can do. And yet you act like it’s not enough.”
I swallowed again, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “Thank you... for saving me, Cassian. But I still feel like a prisoner. Please... let me go.”
His hand shot up, grazing my cheek.
I flinched, expecting a trap—but his touch was impossibly gentle, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw. His eyes bore into mine, dark, stormy, and impossible to ignore.
“Letting you go...” he murmured, voice rough, raw with an emotion I couldn’t place. “Feels like losing something I can’t even name.” He leaned closer, every word dripping with possession. “Stop seeing yourself as a prisoner, Charlotte. You’re not. You’re mine. My wife. Whether you want it or not, you’re... everything.”
The words hit me like a punch, stealing my breath.
My chest felt tight, as if each inhale was a battle.
I wanted to believe him, to trust the warmth—and something more—in his eyes, but the distance between us stretched like a chasm too wide to cross.
Exhaustion clawed at me, dragging my body toward sleep, but my mind refused to obey. Flashes of memory surged unbidden: being thrown into that freezing, endless sea, thrashing and gasping for air, my limbs burning with cold and panic.
My heart raced, anxiety coiling around my chest like a serpent.
What if he found the hair in my pocket?
What if he discovered the baby, the truth I wasn’t ready to face?
I curled into the duvet, clutching it to my chest as if it could shield me from the storm inside.
Sleep was supposed to heal, to soothe, but tonight it was a luxury I could not afford. Tonight, fear and desire warred within me, and I had nowhere to hide—not from him, and not from myself.
Cassian shifted, sliding closer, his arm wrapping around my waist. “Come here,” he said, his voice a command wrapped in velvet.
I stiffened, defiance flaring, but he pulled me against his chest, his strength unyielding. “Stop fighting me, Charlotte. Just for tonight.”
I wanted to push him away, to scream that I didn’t trust him, but his warmth seeped into me, calming the storm in my mind.
My cheek pressed against his chest, the steady thud of his heart grounding me.
For the first time in weeks, I felt... safe.
Not entirely, not enough to tell him about the life growing inside me, but enough to wonder if he’d spare me if he knew.
