Rule 7 : Rage

CHAPTER 10: All's Fair In Power.

A tense silence stretched between them, broken only by the shallow rasp of Dr. Martini's breath.

Dr. Martini felt a prickle of unease as his gaze dipped lower, tracing the elegant line of her neck. Her breath hitched, the crisp coolness of air stifled. His eyes, dark and unreadable, lingered on the swell of her breasts peeking from beneath her lab coat.

A primal urge ignited in his chest, a heady cocktail that sent his heart into a pounding drumbeat against his ribs.

"Your coat looks stunning today," his lips shimmered dangerously as he spoke. Her eyes involuntarily moved away from his intense stare. A forced smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a fleeting attempt to regain control. "Thank you, my Lo—" she began, but Lord Maximus cut her off with a snap of his fingers.

"It wasn't a compliment, take it off," he commanded, a low growl that rumbled in her chest.

His words struck her like a physical blow. Her eyes widened, whites stark against the sudden rush of fear that flooded her pupils. A gasp caught in her throat, leaving her breath shallow. Her fingers, no longer steady, drummed against the table's edge. Knuckles turning bone-white, she wrestled to grasp the meaning of his words.

"Lord... Sir?" she stammered, her voice a mere whisper. A tremor ran through her hand, a tiny betrayal of the carefully constructed facade she desperately tried to maintain.

"Right now," Lord Maximus growled, the sound like a fist in her chest. She shot up, her legs shaky despite the steely resolve in her eyes. Her hand impulsively sought the cool metal pendant around her neck.

With a tremor in her hands, she cast off her coat, the silk whispering a seductive song against her skin as it slithered to the floor. The white blouse beneath clung to every curve, the rapid rise and fall of her chest a dissonance against the palpable tension in the room. Lord Maximus watched, a smoldering desire igniting in his eyes.

He rose in a smooth, predatory motion, the table a frail partition between them. As he circled it, his gaze was a tangible caress, tracing the line of her body with a heat that left her breathless. When he reached her, a hand thrust out, spinning her with surprising force to perch precariously on the edge of the table.

"Martini," he murmured, his voice a husky caress. "You have no idea the effect you have on me." His body, a wall of heat and power, pinned hers from behind.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the delicate skin of her breasts with a possessive touch. The warmth of his hand sent a jolt through her.

"You are far more than just flirtatious, don't you agree, Martini?" he muttered, his breath warm against her neck. "There's a fire in your eyes, a yearning that goes beyond your loyalty to that sniveling patient of yours."

His grip tightened, nails digging into the soft flesh of her chin. A white-hot spike stole her breath, followed by a strangled cry that dissolved into a whimper. Her body lurched, ragged gasps escaping her throat. The world narrowed to the pressure of his hold, the metallic tang of blood tracing a cold path down her neck.

"Zayn," he spat, the name dripping with disdain. "A pretty face, perhaps, but a flickering candle compared to a bonfire." He invaded her space, his voice a seductive rasp that sent a tremor through her. "Doubt my power, darling?"

A chilling dread snaked through her, coiling tight in her gut. It should have been paralyzing, a primal scream urging her to flee. Yet, a counterpoint erupted – a heat, unwelcome and confusing, flared low in her abdomen.

It pulsed against the terror, a discordant rhythm that sent tremors through her limbs. Her gaze locked with his, a battlefield where ice met fire.

The vice of his grip loosened, replaced by a sly grin that played across his lips. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he tamed his disheveled hair, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous confidence.

"Dance for me, Martini," he purred, a command that sent shivers skittering down her spine.

Her hand instinctively shot out, grasping the edge of the table for support. The ground beneath her felt like ice. With a shaky breath, she rose, her body swaying as if caught in a current of confusion and fear.

A cruel glint flickered in Lord Maximus's eyes as they raked down her body. "Let's see the marks I left," he purred, his voice a low rumble that sent a tremor through the room. "Those clothes... a flimsy barrier. Discard them."

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