Page 113 of Sage Haven
His smirk faded. His knuckles whitened against the windowsill, not from anger—but from something worse.
Restraint.
The air thickened between us. My pulse raced.
And even knowing it was dangerous, my gaze drifted lower.
His joggers did little to hide what I shouldn’t be looking at.
He noticed but he said nothing. He moved instead. Slow. Purposeful. Like he was stalking something fragile and wild.
Me.
He stepped between my knees, his body heat coiling around me, suffocating. His hand gripped my chin, tilting my face toward his with a slow, commanding touch.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
I did.
And it felt like drowning.
He was too close. I could feel every hard inch of him against me, the rough fabric doing nothing to soften the impact. His breath ghosted over my skin, hot and deliberate.
“What is it you need, Sage?”
My pulse stuttered. My body answered before I could.
I wanted him. I needed him to erase everything.
But I forced myself to say, “I… I don’t know.”
His grip tightened just enough to make me gasp.
“If you keep lying to me,” he said, his voice a dangerous promise, “I’ll make it so you can’t speak… only scream.”
A shiver raked through me.
I knew he meant it.
I swallowed hard. “I… need to forget,” I whispered.
For a heartbeat, something flickered in his expression. Something unguarded. But it was gone as quickly as it came.
“And what is it you want me to help you forget?”
I hesitated before relenting, “The last time I was with a man… it wasn’t a good time.”
There.
The truth.Kind of.
Silence stretched taut between us.
Then—he laughed. Low. Dark. Dangerous.
“I’m sorry he didn’t satisfy you, wildflower,” he said, but his voice darkened, before continuing, “But we both know that’s not the full story.”
His eyes bored into me, stripping me bare.
