~đź–¤<
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The storm outside was nothing compared to the one inside her chest.
The doorbell rang again, followed by the violent sound of fists pounding the front door. Jax's voice was raw with rage.
"Maya! Don't ignore me! I saw him! I know he's in there!"
Maya flinched.
Elias didn't.
He stood perfectly still by the window, his soaked shirt clinging to his frame, his chest rising and falling like he was holding something barely restrained. A dark kind of stillness — the kind animals had before they lunged.
Her breath came fast. She didn't know if it was from fear, adrenaline, or the lingering heat from the kiss they'd just shared — the kiss that nearly dragged her over the edge.
"Don't do anything," she begged. "Please, Elias. Just let him go."
His voice was ice.
"I let him live last time."
Her blood chilled.
"Don't say that."
He turned to her, slow and deliberate, his eyes narrowed. "You think he cares about you? You think anyone but me does? He's here to start a fight. But I'm here to finish it."
She crossed the room, gripping his wrist. "You can't solve everything with fists."
"I don't want to solve it," he said through gritted teeth. "I want to erase it."
The rage was real — but under it, something else throbbed. Something deeper. Something hungry.
Not just for vengeance.
For her.
"You think I came back just to brawl with some mouthy coward?" he asked. "No, Maya. I came back because I couldn't breathe without hearing your voice again."
The air left her lungs.
She didn't want to believe him.
Couldn't.
But the way he looked at her — like she was both fire and lifeline — made her wonder if obsession was just love turned rotten.
The next knock sounded more desperate. Jax shouted her name again.
She didn't move.
Elias stepped toward her.
"You let him scream," he murmured. "Let him scream until he loses his voice. You're not answering that door, Maya."
"And why not?" she challenged, her voice shaky.
He gripped her jaw, tilting her face up, his touch firm but not cruel. "Because I'm not finished breaking you yet."
Her heart slammed in her chest.
"You want me to ruin you, Maya? I will."
He kissed her again.
Harder this time. More dangerous. His hand slid up her shirt, past the ribs he memorized, under the curve of her bra, and she moaned into his mouth — startled by how much she wanted this, needed this.
Not because it was right.
But because it was him.
"You say I'm bad for you," he whispered against her lips, "but you come undone for me every time."
She whimpered, her fingers tangled in his wet hair.
"I hate you," she breathed.
He smirked against her mouth. "Say it louder. Maybe I'll stop."
But she couldn't. Her voice was gone — swallowed by heat and want and pain that blurred into one.
He pushed her gently onto the bed again.
This time, slower.
More deliberate.
Maya lay beneath him, her skin burning with every inch he kissed. Her shirt was halfway off. Her shorts followed with a smooth, skilled tug that made her breath catch.
His eyes scanned her body — not just with desire, but with a rawness that made her chest ache.
"You're shaking," he said, voice low.
"I'm scared."
He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"Good."
Then his lips moved lower. Over her cheek. Her throat. Her chest.
"Because after this," he whispered, "you'll never feel safe without me again."
Her thighs parted involuntarily. Her body responded like it didn't care what her mind said. Like it was his now.
And maybe it was.
Maybe it always had been.
"I want you to forget your name," Elias said darkly. "Forget the world. I want you to remember only how this felt."
He kissed her again. Deep. Possessive. His hands mapped her curves with greedy reverence, like she was something sacred and sinful.
She gasped when his teeth grazed her hip.
He smirked. "Sensitive."
"You're not fair."
"I'm not gentle either."
His hands slid down, caressing her thighs, parting her slowly like a page he intended to rewrite. She arched, her voice catching in her throat.
"I hate you," she whispered again, softer now.
"You say that," he said, "but your body's praying for me."
Then he kissed her one more time—long, slow, and dark enough to drown in.
And when the thunder cracked outside,
Maya gave in.
Not because she trusted him.
But because she'd already surrendered.
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