CHAPTER 19: FIRE OF SUBMISSION (18+)

I wake up before dawn even though I’m not supposed to.

... especially not with the sedatives Xander had Camille slip into my nightly tea which were little and just enough to keep me calm.

However my body and my heart just have other timing to wake up; blame it on the early morning shift I always took at the hospital.

My fingers tremble as I stare at the door to my room but I don’t move... because I can feel the heat from Xander right behind me.

He’s in my bed, not touching me and not speaking either but he's near enough to swallow all the air in the room and away from my lungs.

I think he doesn’t know I'm awake.

“You’re tense,” he murmurs into the quiet atmosphere of the room, his voice sounding rough from sleep.

It seems like he spent the night in my bed with me.

My breath catches, and his hand skims my hip, spreading warmth through my cotton nightshirt.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I whisper, only remembering seeing him leave but not coming back.

“You were already asleep,” he says, brushing a lock of hair off my neck with maddening gentleness.

“I couldn’t sleep without you.”

I stiffen. Since when did that start?

“You mean without watching me.”

His hand pauses, then slides lower possessively.

“I mean,” he rasps.

"I needed to feel you breathing beside me so I wouldn’t put a bullet in half this city.”

I groan at this.

Are all billionaires like this?

God, I should hate him.

I should shove him away, but instead, my thighs press together as heat pools deep inside me.

It's so sharp and sudden, that I gasp.

It's the hormones.

I can blame the pregnancy hormones right?

“I want to hate you,” I whisper.

“I’ll let you,” he murmurs, brushing his mouth along my jaw.

“as long as you come apart for me first.”

I gasp again, while he pulls me under him like a man starved; those words turned me on more than I should admit.

One of his hands wrap around both of my wrist, pinning it above my head, and the other presses so gently against my swollen belly.

It's as if he's claim it; that this is his, and I am his.

And then he kisses me, deep, raw and possessively.

His tongue demands entry, and I give it, feeling my nearly invisible initial resistance gone entirely at his touch.

“You drive me insane,” he growls for the nth time since he's met me as his lips trail down my neck.

“You don’t listen, you run from me and you fight me at every turn I take.”

“I’m not your prisoner,” I gasp, mewing and arching beneath him.

“No,” he pants, dragging my panties down, “you’re worse.”

His fingers find me, slick and aching and my breath shudders as he teases my entrance.

“You’re my obsession.”

He rips the sheets covering me away from my body and his mouth replaces his hands, kissing, licking and devouring every part of me that pulses with heat and shame and need while my body move under his.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my inner thigh and I instinctively try to close legs but he stops me.

“You're fucking perfect. Don’t hide from me.”

Then he goes down low, and I cry out as his tongue slides over me, teasing and demanding.

He doesn't give me time to think, to breathe or even protest; only to feel.

And when he finally sinks his thick length into me, it’s deep, so deep that my hands claw at his back, scraping my nails over his hard muscle.

“Xander—”

“Say it,” he groans.

“Say you’re mine.”

I shake my head, feeling my eyes start to blur with tears of pleasure.

“Say it,” he demands again, jutting his hips forward.

“Or I’ll keep you here forever.”

“I’m—” My voice breaks and I bite my lip, still keeping the words in.

He leans down, pressing foreheads, making a round circle movement with my hips and makes me gasp at the feeling.

I raise my hips to feel more, but his hand hold my hips, forcing me to stay in place.

“I’m yours,” I gasp and I almost cry in relief when he pulls back and thrusts into me again, stopping only for a second to touch my baby bump.

Then he groans.

His groan is guttural and feral, as he thrusts into me again and again, claiming every inch of me, until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.

---

After, we lie together tangled in sweat and silk with the smell of sex all over us and the room.

Then he bends and kisses the rise of my belly softly, as if worshipping the tiny lives that are growing inside me.

Glancing down at him for a bit, I manage a smile that I don't let him notice, and then stare up at the ceiling, feeling my mind spin in my head.

Was it love I felt?

Or was I just submitting to him?

Did I want him… or did he break me?

I slide my gaze down to him that's still busy looking at my little round belly.

He looks… peaceful.

It about two hours later that his phone buzzes and he stiffens.

“Who is it?” I ask, curling the sheet around me.

He doesn't answer at first as he gets up to find his phone on the bedside table.

"It's my father.”

He sits up from the bed, stands and finds his trousers somewhere on the floor.

“What does he want?” I ask, watching him while he puts on his trousers and a black shirt.

"I have no idea, but he's probably here already. He never asks for permission before visiting me."

I sit up slowly, "Are you going?”

“I don’t have a choice. He rarely visits so it must be important.”

He leans over and brushes a kiss to my temple, which only makes the unease I'm suddenly feeling inside me worse.

“Don’t open the door for anyone,” he murmurs.

"And I mean no one until I return. Not even the staff.”

I nod quietly, then watch him leave.

Hours pass.

... And I'm still feeling uneasy;

Xander hasn't spoken about his dad before, but the look on his face made me think that he was worried.

I try to eat to distract myself, but the babies kick when I try toast, then makes me almost puke when I attempt eggs.

I feel so raw and... sore.

My body's still humming from what we did some hours ago.

And yet… I don't exactly feel no safer, at least not with the uneasily I feel.

I have to find out why his father's here.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I test my ability to stand and wince.