บททั้งหมดของ My step-Uncle: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 17

“Thank you,” I said as I paid the taxi driver and turned around.Right in front of me stood the Mex Club. As invited, I was here to attend Kevin’s birthday party.Though I knew I might get bored, what other choice did I have? My best friend was also here, so it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to spend the night.With him? Hell yes—if he were like before. But now… I would just feel bored and desperate. So, it was better to be here.“Elora!” I heard a familiar voice—it was Ava.She reached me with a bright smile. “Oh, darling, you look amazing,” she said.“You’re not looking any less,” I replied. She was wearing a silver dress that shimmered under the lights.“Thank you,” she said.I was in a black bodycon dress that hugged my figure just right.“Let’s go inside,” she said.“Yeah,” I agreed, and together we made our way in.I had come to get distracted from him… yet I didn’t know why my eyes were searching for him. Was I hoping he would come? Was I foolishly wishing he’d check on me?Th

His hand rested on my throat, not pressing, not gentle, only enough to have my pulse hitch beneath his touch. His words were a slow undercurrent beating into my skin like something dark and treacherous. You are only mine, wildflower. My mouth fell open and I breathed shallowly. “You did,” I whispered feeling sweet relief and something hotter, heavier, tumble down through me. “You finally admitted it.” But only a moment passed when regret shut out his eyes. He dropped me like a burn and took a quick step back to create separation. “Don’t put words in my mouth,” he muttered angrily. I pressed on befofe he could escape me. “Yes, you did. You can’t lie, not anymore. You called me yours. You called me wildflower.” His jaw tensed, his face went taut. “Elora—” “Why?” I choked up, but I went on. “Why are you fighting this? You feel it too. I know you do.” He bit off the request, closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. When he opened them, the fire was smothered in ice. “Beca

He let me go.Stepping back, his voice was low but commanding.“Strip, Wildflower,” he said, locking his eyes with mine.Without wasting another second, I began undoing my clothes. I was still in the same dress I had worn to the party. The fabric slipped from my shoulders and pooled silently at my feet.For a long moment, he just looked at me—devouring me with his gaze—before turning toward his desk. We were still in his study, the air heavy with silence. His hand reached for something, and when he turned back, I saw it. A cutter.My breath caught. My heartbeat thudded violently in my chest as he came toward me, the metallic click of the blade opening echoing louder than it should have in the stillness.He stopped just one step away.“You forgot, Wildflower,” he murmured.My brows furrowed, confused, until his eyes flicked downward.“The first rule.” His voice was steel. “You never wear undergarments.”Before I could respond, the blade slid clean through the center of my bra. The fabr