She swore she hated him. He swore she was his. Y/n never asked for him, his stares that linger too long, his words that cut and tempt, his touch that leaves her burning even as she pulls away. From the moment he decided she was his, her protests became back ground noise. She wants to resist. She wants to hate him. But every time he drags her closer, every time his mouth crashes against hers, every time her reminds her of the secret she should have never uncovered...resistance turns to surrender. He is toxic. He's dangerous. He's the worst mistake she'll ever make-and the only one she'll crave again and again. This isn't sweet romance. His is obsession. Possession. Desire sharp enough to destroy.
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