Chapter 8

‎"Wait," he said, his voice low but urgent when he saw that she was about to unbuckle her seatbelt. His hand shot out instinctively, as though to stop her, but it lingered in the air between them.

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‎She paused, confusion flickering across her face before her lips tightened with impatience. "What?" she asked, her tone sharp as she glanced at him, still intent on removing the seatbelt. Her fingers were already halfway through the motion, but his sudden command had thrown her off.

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‎Before she could say anything else, she felt him lean toward her. She hadn’t even registered the movement, too distracted by the seatbelt, until it was too late. His lips crashed against hers in a swift, unexpected kiss. It took her by complete surprise.

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‎For a split second, she froze. The kiss, deep and forceful, caught her completely off guard. But this time, there was no resistance. She knew it was futile, knew how he could sweep her into his world with just one kiss. She gave in, her body relaxing against him, allowing him more access to her mouth.

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‎As he kissed her more passionately, she could feel his rhythm, his dominance in the way he moved, and something inside her responded. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but she found herself following his lead, her lips moving in sync with his, letting the kiss consume her. Her heart raced, her senses heightened, the world outside the car slipping away.

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‎But just as the moment reached its peak, the shrill tone of a ringing phone shattered the heated silence between them. The jarring noise cut through the passion like a splash of cold water, dragging Claire back to reality.

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‎She pulled away slightly, but he didn’t budge. His lips still hovered near hers, his breath ragged. He was still lost in the kiss, unwilling to let go of the intensity, unwilling to break the moment, even as the phone continued to ring.

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‎Frustration surged through her. She needed him to move, to listen. She pushed against his chest, but he didn’t move. He was entirely focused on the kiss, his grip on her tightening.

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‎Her impatience boiled over. Without thinking, she bit his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. The sharp taste of metal hit her tongue before he jerked away, his expression twisted in surprise and pain. He pulled back, staring at her as the blood from his lip began to stain his lips.

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‎He frowned, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. The car felt heavier, the air thick with unspoken words. He was still processing what just happened, but there was no anger in his gaze, only understanding. He could feel the tension in her, the need to break free from the chaos of their emotions, and he knew it was his fault.

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‎His voice came out soft, but he didn’t get angry. "sorry," he said, his words barely a whisper, yet they held more weight than he realized.

‎“What makes you think you can kiss me as you please? Are you insane?” she snapped, her voice sharp and filled with fury. Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, not from the heat of the car, but from the rush of emotions that surged through her, anger, embarrassment, and confusion, all stirred by the boldness of his actions. Her lips still tingled, swollen from the kiss, as if his touch lingered on her skin despite the distance.

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‎Edward, however, didn’t seem fazed. He had already settled back into his seat, his posture relaxed, almost too casual, as if he’d been waiting for her to react. His gaze met hers without a flicker of guilt or remorse, the calm in his eyes infuriating her further.

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‎“If you’re that angry,” he said coolly, his voice laced with a touch of amusement, “you can always kiss your own back.” His eyes briefly flicked to her swollen lips, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though it was clear his words were meant to rile her up more.

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‎“Psychopath,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Her fingers fumbled with the seatbelt in frustration, but she managed to undo it with a swift pull. Without a second thought, she swung the limousine door open, the action almost violent in its force. Her movement was rapid, and before he could even blink, she stormed out, leaving the door wide open behind her, a symbol of her anger, and her resolve to escape the situation.

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‎Edward watched her go, an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes followed her as she walked away, each step more determined than the last. He let her get a little farther, savoring the sight of her fury, her defiance, knowing full well she’d never be able to stay angry for long. He couldn't help but smile contentedly, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across his face. The sight of her figure retreating into the distance only made the smile deepen. It wasn't a familiar feeling, watching her storm off, and yet, it never got old. She would fade from his sight, but not from his mind.

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‎Her presence lingered, even as she disappeared from view.