(Improvised version)
"WHY THE HELL IS THAT BASTARD'S SCENT STILL ON YOU...?"
His golden eyes blazed with a terrifying intensity as he lowered his head, sniffing closer to my dress.
In a swift, violent motion, he tore the fabric from me, and a raw scream erupted from my throat. The remnants of the dress clung to my shoulder by mere threads, barely covering me.
Ansel stood up, his hand wrapping around my elbow with a bruising grip, yanking me to my feet. The shredded fabric slipped further down, pooling around my waist, leaving my upper half exposed, save for the flimsy barrier of my bra.
His gaze roved over my body with a dark hunger, his eyes narrowing with a mix of desire and possession.
I instinctively covered my chest with my free hand, but he caught my wrist in a firm grip, yanking it away to get an unobstructed view.
His low growl of approval sent a shiver down my spine, a reminder of how trapped I was. I felt stripped not just of my clothing but of any sense of safety or control. A deep, unsettling shame coursed through me.
Tears streamed down my face, hot and endless, blurring my vision as I choked out a desperate plea. "Ansel... please..." My voice broke, a fragile whisper lost amid my sobs, and I could barely stand from the weakness overtaking my body.
He yanked me closer, pulling me flush against him, my exposed skin pressed against his hard chest. He purred with satisfaction; his breath hot against my ear as he asserted his dominance over me.
His grip tightened around my wrists, pinning them at my sides like shackles. I was a prisoner in my own skin, my eyes shut tight against the tears that kept pouring, unstoppable.
His lips brushed against my cheeks, licking away the tears, leaving a trail of unwanted heat in their wake. He peppered soft kisses across my face, each one a twisted mockery of tenderness.
I couldn't breathe; panic was squeezing the air from my lungs. I didn't want this—I didn't want any of this.
Suddenly, he released one of my wrists, his hand snaking around my back. I barely had a moment to react before he lifted me off the ground effortlessly and laid me down on the bed.
The distant roar of thunder made me flinch, and as if echoing my turmoil, heavy rain began to pour outside, pounding against the window like the sky itself was weeping for me.
He stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze moving slowly over my exposed body as if he were appraising something he owned.
I felt utterly vulnerable, stripped of all dignity, lying there like a helpless animal on display.
I bit my lip to stifle the sobs, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest that I was certain he could hear it. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the mattress, and never resurface.
"Your scent is driving me crazy, mate. You're so ready for me," he murmured darkly, inhaling deeply as if my very presence was a drug he couldn't resist.
I knew exactly what he was thinking, and that knowledge clawed at my insides, twisting my fear into something raw and visceral.
Yes, I was scared.
Yes, he was stronger than me.
But I refused to be his prey. I refused to let him take what he wanted. His touches sent shivers racing down my spine, my body betraying me with its treacherous responses.
But just because my body reacted didn't mean I wanted it—didn't mean I wanted him.
I clenched my fists, a surge of determination rising within me. I would not go down without a fight!
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For Me,There Is Only You |18+|
WerewolfWarning: This book contains mature content. "Your scent is driving me crazy, mate. You're so ready for me," he said darkly, inhaling deeply, intoxicated by the air around us. I knew exactly what he was thinking, and it terrified me to the core. Yes...
