Page 32 of Possession

Why I dare him is beyond me. He picks me up and takes me to the table. He sits me on top of it. He doesn’t speak. With no mercy or effort, the boxers disintegrate in his hands. He leaves me in my panties. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been. I’m gasping for air. I want him to touch me. I need to feel his hands on me. Am I really feeling like this? I should be scared. I should be worried. But instead I am turned on by his actions.

“You will never again wear another man’s clothing.” He whispers in my ear. He gently bites my earlobe. “Say it baby girl.” He opens my legs wide. His fingers tempting really close.

“I won’t.” I barely say.

“You ‘won’t’ what?” He is less than an inch away now. I can’t breathe.

“I won’t wear another man's clothing.” He is almost there. I feel the heat of his hand. Then he pulls away.

“Get dressed. We're going home.” He walks towards my bedroom leaving me wet and desperate.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I say once my voice comes back.

“I prefer my men not see you dressed as you are but I won’t care either way. You are leaving with me one way or another.” His tone demands obedience. I can’t challenge him. He has proven in minutes he is capable of anything and I can’t resist him. I walk to my bedroom to get dressed. “Good choice.”

“Please leave the bedroom so I can get dressed.”

“Don’t be childish. We are both adults.”

This man has no respect. I turn my back to him. I take off my t-shirt and put the dress on. I’m going to the zipper when I feel his fingers pulling the zipper leaving traces of his heat as he touches my skin. I feel the air leave my lungs. I find myself realizing being near him is dangerous. My body craves and wants him.

“Thank you.” I pull away quickly once he is done. He makes me nervous. Viktor Manarch is intimidating.

“Time to go.” I turn and look at him. Why can’t I just tell him to leave? Why am I doing what he orders? Because this is clearly an order. “Ava, I will carry you if I have to.” Just like that, I snap out of it. I am reminded of who he is. I don’t say anything. I put my shoes on and walk past him.

Chapter Seventeen

Viktor

I was pissed when I got home and learned Ava never made it.

“Oliver, are you in the house?”

“No, I had to run an errand.” He answers over the phone.

“Where is Ava?”

“I dropped her off.”

“She isn’t here. I told you to stay at the house.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

It’s not like Oliver to disobey an order. I don’t know what it is about her that unsettles me. I am being paranoid. I shouldn't care. After she left the restaurant, I went back to do as my father ordered. I didn’t care about what he wanted. My goal was to learn why Cillian returned. It’s been almost a year since my father last entertained him. We no longer have any dealings with him. But they kept it close to the chest. I tried leaving multiple times. But for the sake of keeping peace with my father, I stayed. Ava was right, it was a battle not worth fighting.

After a couple hours of pointless conversations, food, and drinks I excused myself. Oddly, I wanted to see Ava. I managed to deter my father from retaliating against her for the way she spoke to him. Between my mom and me, everything was forgotten. Our focus was on Cillian and his visit. But learning from Mary that Ava never made it home was unacceptable.

Our drive is painfully silent. Her gaze is out the window. I find myself missing her smart mouth. The worst part is, I don’t know why I care. She is an employee like any other. A stubborn employee who needs to learn her place. I pull in beside the house. The SUV has barely come to a stop when she gets out. She walks inside without waiting for me. I don’t understand why she is upset. It makes no sense. I haven’t done anything to her. I’ve been nothing but accommodating. I follow her to see what she does. She takes the stairs in silence. Somehow she knows where she is going. She opens the door to her bedroom. She is about to slam it when I stop her.

“Baby girl, if this is how you are going to behave from now on, let me know.”

“And if I do, what are you going to do?” She screams.

“You might not like my answer.” I take a step closer.

“I don’t want to be here.” She takes her shoes off. She puts her bag on top of her dresser. “Where are my things?”

“I imagine in your closet or drawers.” I am standing against the frame of the door amused by her tantrum. She opens the first drawer.

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