Only his

Ch17

Nobody's POV

After Bishop John and Mama Sheard stepped out of the Sheard Mansion, the silence that followed wasn't peaceful.

It was suffocating.

The front door clicked shut, and for a long moment, all Karen could hear was the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She turned slowly toward Drew, still standing in the foyer like a statue carved from rage and coldness. Her voice was barely a whisper—thin, trembling, hopeful.

"When... when am I allowed to go home?"

Drew didn't even glance at her.

Didn't blink.

Didn't breathe.

"When I feel like it."

That sentence hit harder than a slap.

No yelling. No threats. Just pure, calculated control.

The last thread of her hope snapped.
And in that moment, Karen realized—

This wasn't the end of anything.

It was just the beginning.

⸻

Karen's POV

This man is insane.

And he owns everything right now.

Every time I even hint at leaving, he either acts like I never said anything... or he turns ice-cold and deadly quiet. And that silence? It scares me more than when he raises his voice.

So I stopped asking.
Stopped hoping.

I can still hear Mama Sheard's voice in my head, like a warning wrapped in sugar.

"Just be obedient, Karen. Don't make him mad."

Obedient.

Like a pet.

So yeah, I'm trying to play the role.

Be good. Be sweet. Be quiet.

I tiptoe downstairs—barefoot, wearing one of his oversized T-shirts and a bonnet still tied tight. I just want a damn snack. My stomach's been flipping all day. Chips, water, maybe something cold.

But the moment I open the pantry, I feel those hands.

Big. Heavy. Familiar.

They slide around my waist from behind, pulling me into him like he was waiting on me. His lips hit my neck, and he started sucking. Kissing. Whispering nonsense in my ear like he forgot we were in a war zone just a few hours ago.

I let out a sound. A moan.

My body betrayed me. Again.

"I know you like it, baby," he whispered, biting just under my ear.

I didn't say anything. Couldn't.

His hand slid lower—one move and it was over. Rubbing me rough and slow through my thin cotton panties, making me feel things I swore I wouldn't feel. Not right now.

I moaned again before I could stop myself.

I hate that he knows my body better than I do.

Then my panties were gone. Just gone. And his mouth was on me.
I lost all control.

"Drew," I whispered, gripping the edge of the counter. "Stop. I—I feel like I gotta pee."

He didn't stop. Just held me tighter, deeper between my thighs.