Psychotic love

32

(A/N I just needed to write this scene from his perspective too🤭)

Killian's pov;

As I sat in my office, deep in discussion with my associates, the door creaked open. My attention diverted briefly from the conversation at hand, I saw Ophelia standing uncertainly in the doorway. She was wearing a small pink tight dress, a short dress indeed. I know I brought it for her but I never expected her to really wear it. But god I'm I happy that she did.

Can she be any more un resistible? Well having her under me screaming my name-

"Love, is there something wrong?" I asked, concern lacing my voice. I need to think straight. Stop focusing on how good she looks in that dress. It was rare for her to intrude during my meetings, especially with such determination evident on her face.

"Um, no, I just wanted to ask you something, but it can wait," she replied hesitantly, clearly caught off guard by the presence of my guests.

"No, come here," I gestured for her to approach, noting the hesitation in her steps. She moved closer, and I pulled her onto my lap.

Perfect, she is so beautiful. I can see my men eyeing her, wanting what is mine. Too bad, I will slaughter anyone that tries to take her away from me.

After telling them about her status, I force them to leave. She is the only thing important, everyone else can wait.

Her next words surprised me. "It's about... meeting my family," she began, her voice tinged with a blend of hope and apprehension.

I raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by her request. Meeting her family had never been a topic of discussion before. Despite my outward composure, inwardly I felt a mix of conflicting emotions — curiosity, wariness, and a twinge of possessiveness.

Fine, a lot of possessiveness

"No," I responded firmly, my immediate reaction instinctively protective. The thought of her reconnecting with her family sparked a flurry of concerns in my mind — their potential influence, her vulnerability, and the implications for our relationship.

"No, you can't just say no! I want to meet them," she persisted, her tone carrying a hint of frustration and defiance.

"Well, if you are forgetting, I'm in charge, so no," I answered her. She is fine here, with me. She doesn't need them. She only needs me.

"Well, fuck you then," she retorted sharply, her defiance evident as she attempted to leave.

"Any day, any time, love. Just say the words," I replied calmly,even though it was difficult. A smirk clear on my face.

.-.-.-.

My maid just informed me that she refuses to eat, and my guess is that this is her trying to get what she wants.

Well game on bunny, you have no idea what you just started.

As I entered Ophelia's room, the tension between us crackled like electricity in the air. Her defiant gaze met mine, and I could sense the stubborn resolve that fueled her actions. She acted all tuff but I could see her hands shaking. She was scared, good.

"Stop throwing a tantrum and go downstairs to eat," I commanded, my tone laced with annoyance. Her refusal to comply only served to amplify my frustration. Yet, beneath my stern demeanor, a part of me acknowledged the courage in her defiance, a trait I both admired and found exasperating.

"No," she retorted, her head turned away, a smug smirk playing on her lips. I recognized the game she was playing, pushing me to the edge to see how far she could go. "Bunny... you're playing a dangerous game," I warned, my voice lowering to a darker timbre. I knew her well enough to understand that pushing her limits often led to unpredictable outcomes.

Ignoring my warning, she remained steadfast in her defiance. "Bunny, I'm giving you one last chance," I continued, my patience wearing thin. "Go downstairs in 3 seconds or I swear to god I will not control myself."

"No," she challenged, meeting my threat with defiance. Before she could react, I swiftly lifted her from the bed, hoisting her effortlessly over my shoulder. Her protests and struggles only fueled my resolve as I carried her out of the room and down the hallway towards the staircase. Not going to lie, I love this maybe a bit too much.

"Let me go, you can't solve everything with manhandling me!" she protested vehemently, her voice echoing through the corridors. "It has worked great for me so far," I smirked, my grip firm as I navigated the familiar paths towards the kitchen.

Upon reaching the kitchen, I found the staff in a state of confusion, their eyes wide with apprehension. Without a word, I instructed them to leave, except for the cook who remained, nervously awaiting my command. With Ophelia still over my shoulder, I turned my attention back to her.

"Tell the chef what you want now or..." I whispered into her ear, leaving the implication hanging in the air. Better do as I say now bunny, I have been nice enough now.

"Or what?" she challenged, her voice tinged with defiance. Despite her outward bravado, I could sense the vulnerability beneath her facade, she knows there is no backing down now. It's too late.

I stood there, staring defiantly into Ophelia's eyes, knowing full well the gravity of my words. The tension crackled between us as I held her chin firmly in my grasp, a mixture of frustration and determination coursing through me. Fuck it, I can't control myself when she is sitting on the counter in her small dress, biting her lip nervously.

Fuck it

"Or I will spank you over this table, not caring who sees," I said with a smirk, pushing the boundaries to see her reaction.

"You wouldn't," she dared, her voice laced with defiance. It was a challenge, and I could sense her determination to stand her ground.

Yet her cheeks started turning a beautiful shade of red.

"Try me," I retorted, the intensity of our stare-down palpable. This is going to be fun.
The chef had wisely retreated, leaving us in a private standoff. Despite the seriousness of the situation, a part of me found a strange thrill in our verbal sparring.

She held her ground, unwilling to back down. "I want to eat dinner with my family. If I can't, I won't eat at all," she informed me, her resolve unwavering. Her words cut through me, stirring conflicting emotions within.

"Neither is an option, so fucking eat now, bunny," I responded firmly, my frustration seeping into my voice. I could feel my grip on her chin tighten involuntarily, a physical manifestation of my growing impatience.

"I'd rather starve," she challenged, her defiance echoing in the tense air between us. It was a final declaration of her defiance, a line drawn in the sand.

"You say that as if you have an opinion bunny" I whispered seductively in her ear.

"If you give me this, I will give you anything you want back" she said after thinking about it.

"Anything?" I clarified.

"Anything" she confirmed.

Oh this will be fun

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Writing from his perspective is always harder for me not gonna lie. I have to put myself in a man's world 😅😭
So tell me of you like the chapters from his pov so that I know if it's worth it😭

Higiihihigig🤭🤭🤭

I heard you all loud and clear, you want smut and I shall give you smut 😉🤭

Just be patient 🙏😅

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