"DON'T GET CAUGHT. DON'T GET CAUGHT. DON'T. FUCKING. GET. CAUGHT."
She chanted these words repeatedly, displaying reasons and visualising the aftermath of getting caught.
You'll be bonded. Restrained. Confined. With no freedom over yourself. Prayin...
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Vasileios's lips were curled into a mocking sneer. The First in Command of The Backbone Zone sat with authority that made the girl infront of him quiver.
Azelia wasn't shy- she was unwilling. Unwilling to accept him. Her defiant orbs glossed over as she recalled the way she ached for his touch. His touch.
Vaselios observed her like a hawk. Her shaky breath. The anxious batting of her lashes. The thundering of her heart. The quivering of her rosy lips. The harsh clench of her small fists. He observed everything about her.
He adored her glossy orbs and for some rationale he wanted to see those precious tears trickle down her flushed cheeks. His question went unanswered as the girl infront him dropped her gaze down to his unbuttoned shirt.
Regretting.
She was regretting.
The haughty cloak- untied, seemed to mock her of her obtuseness. She has done something irrevocable, something she couldn't even deny even if she died and came back again.
The couple sat there entangled betwixt the haunting silence that surrounded them. Regret. Satisfaction. Dejection. Elation. Vulnerability. All of these emotions thrummed their hearts with life as they stared at eachother.
She was ashamed of herself, of her morals, distraught by her wanton like gestures and he was raging as he perceived the look of regret and disgust dim the lights residing within her eyes.
How could I?
Self-contemplation made her ears ring and head throb. Her wrists were still in his grasp and her body was still blazing, aching for this man's touch yet resisting him.
Both of them could feel the wetness between her legs trailing down and dampening the sheets beneath them. It was an action that made his body burn, but the fury travelling within his smooth skin made it hard for him to unravel his desires.
The blood making his heart thrum felt like fire, wild and burning. The tension in his jaw was as clear as the night sky illuminated by the beautiful moon. He was afraid of being swayed by the wrath flooding his bones, he was afraid of crushing her to the point of everlasting destruction.
The muscles making up the commander's physique were tense with self restraint yet the brute within him wanted to put her in her place. So, before his lust for blood and pain could overpower his senses he got up and walked out.
She's my mate.
She's my mate.
She's my mate.
Azelia is mine.
Chanting those words akin to needing oxygen he walked inside the bathroom, slamming the door shut, the killing intent and lust making his body tremble, the beast within lurking somewhere underneath like a shadow, a part of him.
