Chapter 214 - 0214: Do As You’re Told

Chapter 214: Chapter 0214: Do As You’re Told

Elena’s Point Of View

I had nothing to say.

Because he was right.

I was losing my mind, and I was losing it fast. Worse, some traitorous, desperate part of me wanted to. It wanted to drown in the heat of his touch, in the dark promise of his words, in the way his hands made me feel like I was his. Like I’d always been his. Like I was made for this... for him.

The thought terrified me more than anything he could have said aloud. I had spent weeks building walls against exactly this feeling, and he’d just walked through them like they were made of paper.

His fingers traced lazy, maddening circles on my waist, his touch burning through the thin lace of my panties, his gaze dark and possessive as he studied me like he had all the time in the world and nowhere else he’d rather be. The air between us grew thick, charged, the kind of tension that made my skin prickle and my breath come in shallow, uneven gasps.

I hated how aware I was of him... of every shift in his breathing, every flicker of heat in his eyes. I hated it, and some shameful corner of my mind cataloged it anyway, memorizing the weight of his hands as though I might need the memory later.

The music from the club below pulsed through the floor, the bass thrumming in time with my racing heart, the lights casting shadows across his face and making him look even more dangerous than usual. Somewhere beneath the chaos of my thoughts, I registered how absurd it was that the world kept moving below us, oblivious, while mine had narrowed to the size of his hands. People were laughing down there, ordering drinks, living normal lives, while I knelt here falling apart over a man who terrified me more than he comforted me.

"What were you thinking, coming to the club all by yourself, Elena?" His voice came low, rough, the words laced with something that sent a shiver down my spine - something that felt too much like ownership.

I frowned, my fingers tightening on his shoulders, my nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "I came with my friend," I said, my voice sharp, defensive. "I wasn’t alone."

"I know," he murmured, his thumb pressing against the dip of my waist, his touch possessive, his gaze never leaving mine. "I get that. Your friend stepped away. That’s when he slid into the seat next to you. I watched the whole thing, Bambina." His eyes darkened, his grip tightening just enough to make my breath hitch. "But what were you thinking, drinking and being that close with another man?"

My body went still, not from fear, but from shock.

Because the look in his eyes... that look, was something I’d never seen before. Something raw. Something dangerous. His fingers dug into my waist, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle ticking, his gaze burning into mine like he was daring me to argue. Like he was daring me to lie. A small, foolish part of me wondered if this was what it felt like to matter to someone, and I despised myself for wondering at all. I had never seen him lose his composure before, not even slightly, and something about cracking that calm felt more intoxicating than it should have.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

There was no possible way he was jealous. Right?

Because this... this thing between us, didn’t mean anything. It was just physical. Just lust. Just a game we both played because we couldn’t resist, because we were both too stubborn to walk away. At least, that was what I kept telling myself, even as the words rang hollow in my own head. The more I repeated it, the less I believed it, and that terrified me almost as much as he did.

So why the hell did he look at me like I’d betrayed him?

Why did his voice sound like he had every right to be pissed?

Why did his touch feel like a claim?

My chest tightened, my fingers curling into fists against his shirt, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The room felt too small, the air too thick, the heat between us unbearable. I could feel the way his body tensed beneath mine, the way his fingers tightened on my waist, the way his gaze burned into me like he was daring me to defy him. Some reckless, exhausted part of me almost wanted to.

"I don’t belong to you, Jaxx," I snapped, my voice sharp, my glare defiant, my body trembling with the effort it took not to melt into him. "And you have no right to interfere with my personal life."

His smirk deepened, that infuriating, knowing curve of his lips that made my stomach twist and my pulse race. "Oh, really?" he drawled, his voice a dark purr, his thumb brushing against my jaw before his hand slid away from my waist, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

I lifted my chin, my glare defiant, my voice sharp. "Yes. Really."

His eyes darkened, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. His left hand left my waist, his fingers curling around my jaw, his grip firm but not painful, his thumb brushing against my lower lip. "It seems you’ve forgotten something, princess," he murmured, his voice a low growl, his breath hot against my skin.

My breath hitched, my body tensing beneath his touch, my mind racing. "And what’s that?" I snapped, my voice trembling despite the defiance in my tone.

His fingers tightened just slightly, his gaze burning into mine. "You’ve forgotten what I told you the first time I fucked you," he said, his voice rough, his words sending a jolt of heat straight to my core. "I had you underneath me, and I told you that once I taste you..."

His thumb traced the curve of my lip, his touch maddening, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Once I claim you..." His grip tightened, his gaze darkening, his words a promise. "You belong to me." His fingers slid down my throat, his touch possessive, his voice a dark caress. "Body. Soul. Spirit."

His thumb pressed against the pulse in my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Everything. Every single fucking thing about you belongs to me."

My breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, my body trembling beneath his touch, my mind spinning. His words wrapped around me like a claim, like a brand, like a fucking vow. I could feel the way his body tensed beneath mine, the way his fingers dug into my jaw, the way his gaze burned into me like he was daring me to deny it.

Some part of me wanted to scream that he was wrong, and a quieter, more honest part of me wanted him to keep talking forever. That quiet part frightened me more than anything else in the room.

"And you didn’t believe me," he continued, his voice dropping lower, rougher, his thumb dragging slowly across my bottom lip. "You laid there that night with my marks already blooming on your neck and you still tried to tell yourself it was a one-time thing. Comfort, you called it. You needed comfort." A dark, humorless laugh escaped him. "That’s why you came back twice more before I left. That’s why you’re soaked on my lap right now. Comfort."

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," I whispered, though even to my own ears, the words sounded weak.

"I know everything about you, Elena. I know your body better than you do. I know you clench your thighs right before you come. I know you hold your breath when you’re about to say something honest. You’re doing it right now." His eyes flicked down and back up, slow, deliberate, as if cataloguing every reaction I tried to hide. "I know you’re not wearing that perfume for Daniel. You’re wearing it because you ran out of everything else and it’s mine."

My lungs burned. I was, in fact, holding my breath.

"Have you forgotten all that?" he murmured, his voice a dark tease, his thumb brushing against my lips. "Or does your mind need some refreshing?" His grip tightened, his gaze darkening, his voice dropping to a growl. "Because I’m ready to do that."

My mouth fell open, my breath catching in my throat as his words sank in, each one a blade twisting deeper into my resistance. "W-What are you talking about?" I stuttered, my voice trembling, my mind racing to keep up with the heat of his touch, the dark promise in his eyes, the way his fingers still lingered on my jaw like a brand.

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, something feral. "You know exactly what I’m talking about, Lena," he said, his voice a low growl, his thumb pressing against my lip. "So don’t play pretend with me." His grip tightened just enough to make my pulse spike, his gaze burning into mine. "I’m not having that."

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, my body trembling with a mix of defiance and need. "I don’t..."

"But if you insist..." He trailed off, his eyes lighting with a dangerous glint as his hands slid to my waist. Before I could protest, before I could breathe, he eased me off his thigh, his touch gentle but firm, his movements deliberate as he guided me onto the couch.

The leather felt cool beneath my bare skin, the contrast making me hyper-aware of every inch of me - every inch he had touched, every inch he had claimed. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught somewhere between dread and anticipation, unable to decide which one it wanted to win.

"Bend over the couch, Bambina," he said, his voice a dark command, his hands sliding down my back, sending shivers down my spine. "Spread your legs." His fingers traced the curve of my hip, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And make sure to hold onto the couch well."

"Huh?" I managed, my voice shaking, my glare defiant as I looked over my shoulder at him.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. "You heard me, princess," he said, his voice smooth, his gaze dark with promise. "Do as you’re told."

"You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m just going to..."

"You will," he said, calm as anything, "because you want to. Your nipples are hard and your pulse hasn’t slowed down once since I said the word bend. So stop acting, and move."

My breath hitched, my body tensing, my mind screaming at me to run, to fight, to do something... anything, but my traitorous body obeyed anyway. I turned, my hands gripping the back of the couch, my legs parting slightly, my chest heaving with sharp, uneven breaths. The position left me exposed, vulnerable, my ass on display, my panties still damp from the vibrations earlier, my skin flushed with heat.

The cool air of the room brushed between my thighs, and I shivered, mortified at how wet I still was, at how obviously he could see it. Shame and want twisted together inside me until I couldn’t separate the two anymore, and some part of me had stopped trying.

I turned to look at him, but his voice stopped me. "Don’t look back, princess. Be a good girl, and do as you’re told."

My thighs shook, my fingers tightening around the couch as humiliation and desire tangled together until I couldn’t tell one from the other, each feeding the other until both burned equally bright.

He chuckled, the sound dark and amused, his hands suddenly skimming down my back, his touch light, teasing, maddening. "Relax, Bambina," he murmured, his voice a dark caress, his fingers tracing the curve of my spine. "I don’t bite..."

"You bastard," I hissed through gritted teeth. "How the hell do you want me to relax?" My voice came sharp, my body trembling. "And you don’t bite?" I scoffed, my glare burning into him over my shoulder. "Tell that to a toddler..."

My words cut off as the vibrations returned.

Right against my core.

A sharp, unexpected pulse sent a jolt of pleasure through me, my body jerking, my fingers clawing at the couch. "Fuck!" I gasped, my legs nearly giving out beneath me. The toy came alive against my clit, deep and insistent, and my whole spine arched, my hips pressing back into nothing, chasing a touch that wasn’t there yet.

"There it is," he said softly, his hand smoothing over the curve of my ass, slow, appreciative, like he was admiring a painting. "There’s my honest girl. All that mouth, gone in one second."

"Jaxx... please..."

"Please what, Bambina? Tell me. Use your words." His palm slid lower, between my thighs from behind, and I felt his fingers trace the soaked lace, pressing it against me, following the wet patch that had nothing to do with the toy. "God. You’re dripping. Was it Daniel? Or was it me calling you mine in that growl you pretend to hate?"

"You," I whispered, and the confession ripped out of me before I could stop it, and I hated him, and I hated myself, and my thighs were shaking anyway.

"Say it again."

"You. It’s you. It’s always..." my voice broke as the speed increased, a cry tearing out of me instead of words.

"Hold yourself together, Bambina," he said, his voice a dark tease, his fingers tightening on my hips as the speed increased. "Because I’m just getting started."

The vibrations spiked, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, my body trembling violently, my breath coming in sharp, broken gasps. "J-Jaxx!" His name tore from my lips, a desperate, needy sound that only made his chuckle deepen. My hips rolled against the couch, against his hand, chasing it, my knuckles white on the cushion, my moans coming louder now, unashamed, because there was no shame left in me... there was nothing left in me at all but him.

"You’ll remember every single word I’ve ever told you," he murmured, his voice a dark promise, his hands sliding down to grip my hips, his touch possessive, his words a vow.