003: You're mine.

~~~Rhea~~~

His thumb brushed my bottom lip, slow and intimate, and my brain short-circuited.

I jerked back, eyes wide, breathing ragged like I’d just run a marathon. “What… what are you doing?” I stammered, voice shaky as hell.

He didn’t answer. His eyes darkened, turning almost black with something intense I couldn’t name. Then he started walking toward me.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I stumbled backward, panic rising fast. “Logan—”

My back hit the wall hard. Nowhere left to go. He didn’t stop. He kept coming until he towered over me, his massive frame completely blocking everything else. I felt tiny and trapped. Like a rabbit staring up at a wolf.

He leaned in closer, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. My hands pressed flat against the wall, fear spiking through me. Oh God, what the hell is he doing? My legs were shaking. My chest was tight, fear crawling up my spine.

Suddenly his hand shot out, grabbing my hair roughly and yanking my head to the side, exposing my neck. I gasped.

His eyes grew in size, almost bulging out of their sockets as he stared at the tiny moon tattoo there.

“She’s the one…” he murmured, voice low and rough, almost reverent. “My Moon.”

A tsunami of questions crashed through my head.

What the fuck is going on? Why is he calling me that? How does he know about the moon tattoo on my neck? What the hell does “my Moon” mean? Why is he looking at me like that?

My mind was spinning. Nothing made sense.

He didn’t let go.

Instead, Logan cupped my face with both of his big hands, holding me like I was something fragile and precious. A wide, dangerous smile slowly spread across his handsome face — the kind of smile that promised trouble.

“Mine.” He growled. His thumbs traced my lips, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver racing down my spine.

Then he leaned in. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply like he was breathing me in. His lips brushed against my skin, soft at first, then pressing hotter, open-mouthed kisses along my throat.

My whole body went ice cold.

“Logan… stop. What are you doing?”

He didn’t stop.

“Logan!” I pushed his chest. “What the hell? Stop!”

He kept going, drunk on me, his hands slid down my sides, possessive, and greedy.

I struggled harder, shoving him back. “I’m engaged to Sebastian! Your son!” I shook my hand in his face, that diamond flashing on my finger. “See? I belong to him.”

His vision turned blood red. Something in him snapped.

He snatched my hand, ripped the ring off my finger in one brutal tug, and hurled it across the room. It clattered somewhere in the shadows.

My eyes went wide with shock, then pure rage. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!”

He pinned me against the wall before I could finish yelling, his body slamming into mine, one hand on my hip, the other caging me in. I gasped, my body trapped under his.

“You’re mine,” He growled low in my ear, voice dark and rough. “You think I’m gonna let you wear some other bastard’s ring after I’ve spent seven years searching for you? Nah. That shit ends now. I’ll get you a better one. Bigger. Something that'll make the whole world know you belong to me.”

What is he saying? He's been searching for me for seven years? Is he mistaking me for someone else?

Well, I don't care. My blood is boiling “Are you a psycho? What kind of sick fuck attitude is this? I belong to Sebastian. Sebastian! Get that into your thick skull!”

His eyes reddened again. His hand shot up, gripping my chin hard, forcing me to look straight into his eyes.

“Say you belong to him one more time,” he snarled piercing into my pretty silver moon eyes, “and I’ll chop off his tongue and fingers, then serve them to you on a fucking plate as a gift. Try me, little moon.”

My face paled. Terror flashed in my eyes. “He’s your godson, Logan! Your fucking godson! How could you fantasise about having his future wife.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, cold and empty. “I don’t give a single fuck if he wants you or not. Or if he lives or dies. The only thing I care about right now is you. My moon. You’ve always been mine. That night you saved me? You've always belonged to me since then.”

Disgust spread across my face. “Dream on. I’d never belong to a psychotic man like you.”

I can't believe I'm talking to the most dangerous and powerful man in the city like this.

He didn’t seem less pleased instead he curved his lips into a slow, dangerous, smile, leaning in until my lips brushed his. His hand tightened on my chin, the other sliding down to grip my waist harder, pulling me flush against him.

“Really?” he murmured, voice dripping with dark promise, his hand hovering around her breast.“Let’s see how true that is.”

Before I could even process what the hell was happening, Logan crashed his lips on mine.

The kiss was rough, demanding, and completely merciless. He devoured me like he’d been starving for years, tongue pushing past my lips, claiming every inch of my mouth. A low groan rumbled from his chest as he pressed me harder against the wall.

His big hand slid down and cupped my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, squeezing possessively. His thumb found my nipple and rubbed slow, teasing circles before pinching it hard. I gasped into his mouth, my body jerking at the sharp jolt of pleasure mixed with shock.

“Logan—” I tried to pull back, but he didn’t let me. He kissed me deeper, hungrier, like he was trying to brand himself into my soul. His fingers kept working my nipple, pinching and rolling it until it hardened under his touch, sending heat straight between my legs.

My mind was screaming that this was wrong, that I was engaged, that this was Sebastian’s godfather, but my body was betraying me completely. A soft, traitorous moan slipped out against his lips.

He smiled against my mouth, dark and satisfied, like he’d just won something.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, my lips still wet from him. My chest was heaving against his. His hand stayed locked on my chin, thumb brushing my bottom lip like he owned it.

“Tell me to stop, little Moon,” he murmured against my throat, licking my neck. “Go on. Say it. Tell me you don’t want this.”

He leaned down and placed another kiss on my nipples through my gown.

“Let's see if you truly belong to Sebastian… or if you’ve always been mine,” he rasped, voice low and rough, a dark smirk pulling at my mouth. “Go on, moon. Tell me to stop right now if you’re really his.”

I opened her mouth, but nothing came out except a shaky breath. My lips trembled. My eyes flicked to his, then away, like I was fighting myself.

What the fuck is wrong with me. Why can't I refuse? My body is responding positively to him. And an unbearable attraction.

He chuckled, deep and satisfied, and dipped his head to my neck. His lips brushed the sensitive skin just below my ear, then he kissed me there — slow, wet, and deliberate. He sucked lightly, then harder, marking me.

Fuck. Why am I loving this?

“Say it,” he murmured against my throat, voice vibrating on my skin. “Tell me to stop, moon. Tell me you’re only Sebastian’s. Use that pretty mouth and say the words.”

I couldn’t form any words. He nipped at my collarbone, then soothed it with his tongue. His free hand slid under my gown as he shoved it up, palm flat against my waist, fingers digging into my cunt possessively, pulling me tighter against his body.

“...Ahhh…” I whimpered softly. My hands pushed weakly at my shoulders, but there was no real force behind it.

“See?” he growled, sucking a fresh mark right where my neck met my shoulder. “No words. Because deep down you know the truth. You’re not his. Never were. That ring was a fucking joke. This…” I pressed my hips into her, letting her feel everything, “…this is real.”

His hand moved slowly, thumb rubbing my folds softly. It's sweet, oh my God!

“...Fuuuck…” I moaned shamelessly.

A dark chuckle escaped him. He's clearly enjoying this.

“Say you don't want this.” he whispered right against her ear, voice dark and taunting. “I fucking dare you.”

“I….” I managed to start but it dissolved into a moan when he sucked the corner of my lips, his other hand sliding down my ass, squeezing them softly.

I couldn’t talk. My mouth opened, closed, and all that came out was a broken little sound that made him more hornier.

Jesus help! This isn't what I planned to do on my engagement night. But I can't stop. I'm liking it and I'm scared I don't want him to stop.

Maybe I want him to fuck me. Yes, I want him.