The Devil Who Owns Me

Chapter 9

Trisha's POV

He stopped kissing me when his driver told us we arrived at his house or rather his mansion which is quite large for someone who's living alone. I was too embarrassed to even thank his driver because I forgot he was there with us and I got lost in our moment of passion. He guided me on the grand staircase leading to a numerous rows of rooms. And I wondered why he lives in a house this big.

He escorted me on a room at the end of the hallways on the second floor. I felt panic slightly grip me. He opened the door and I saw nothing but darkness.

Just one night.

I told myself.
Just when I stepped on the obscurity of the room, I felt his presence behind me so close. I tensed when I almost sensed his heat behind me. I quickly whipped my head around and felt panic slightly gripped me.

"What?, the way he talk now would nearly made me think if the incident on the car a while ago really happened. He gave off the impression of a hard stone cold man.

I moved my eyes away from him and said," The lights". And bravely looked at him again.

He raised his brows in amusement but otherwise his face had the same expression.

""Won't you turn it on? It's so dark in here"

"Why? Are you afraid if the dark?"

No. I wanted to answer just that.

I am not afraid of the dark.
I am afraid of YOU.
And of myself when I'm with you especially in a dark room. With no one else.
Just you and me.

Yes, I was afraid of myself whenever I'm with him. He was too dangerous for myself.

I remembered what I've read on a particular romance book I've had when I was in my early curiosity and addiction of historical romance. This situation had been almost the same as the heroine of the story and I was too afraid to know if I would end p the same as her. May be I was reading too much and had been affected more than I should have but Sebastian was more ruthless compared to the character that got her in the end. I would like to think that Sebastian was the villain instead of the heroin. But how could I ever think of that when somehow he had been almost the same as the heroin I had been dreaming about to come to reality. Especially when he kisses me. and I wished for more.

Just like that story...

He searched more intensely with his tongue forcing an entrance. The kiss started gentle but he was unconsciously getting rough. Seeking deeper and would like to discover if the taste of her changed over time. A luscious kind of rough. A pleasant kind of rough.
She drew back but he gladly leaned over following her action, instantly cupping his hand around the back of her head.

"Open for me, love...Open", he murmured, drunk on the addicting flavor of her. Before she could react, his mouth was on her again, coaxing and firm. And through her denial of her craving for him, her body moved to betray her. She let his tongue touch hers the moment she unlocked her lips and a burst of a million sensations and of the most long forgotten pull washed over them. He explored the inner chambers of her mouth, gliding along her teeth, the walls of her inside cheeks, under her tongue and sucking her moans and gasps of pleasure. And she matched his exploit with the same intensity of hunger.
Hands roamed around and over each other. She, stroking the hard muscles burning with the unspeakable and restrained release of need for a touch. For her touch. He glided a hand on her shoulders, her arms then leaping on the side of her breast. Down to her small perfect hips and savoring the feather-like surface of her bare legs.