The night shifts he owned

The door shuddered under a savage knock. She opened it, breath hitching the moment she saw him.

Her boss, nothing more, nothing less, stood there like a nightmare. Red-rimmed eyes, rain-soaked hair, faint smears of blood staining his white shirt. He looked ruined, dangerous, almost feral.

She parted her lips to speak, but his hand tangled in her hair, pulling her in, sealing his mouth over hers with a hunger & madness.

Her spine hit the door as his fingers clamped around her wrist, holding her tightly.

He was nothing to her but a shadow she tried not to notice.

Yet he kissed her like she was the last breath in his lungs.
Like she was everything he had left.
Like losing her would finish whatever had already started tearing him apart.

He finally let her go after what felt like forever, his breath hot and uneven against her lips as if he had carved those ten minutes out of her soul.

She was out of breath, chest trembling, voice barely forming, "Sir... what happened? You... killed someone?"

He didn't step back, pressed his forehead to hers, his grip still locked around her waist like she was the only thing holding him upright. His breaths were deep & animalistic.

Then came that smile. That slow, sinful curve of his lips. The one that didn't belong to a man but belonged to a monster who had finally tasted what he wanted.

"Yes," he whispered in husky & lethal voice. "I killed him. He dared to take your name from his filthy mouth."

His thumb traced her lower lip, stained from his kiss, as if he was admiring the chaos he had just created inside her.

There was a heat in his touch. Obsession burning through every inch of him.

He was claiming her in the most dangerous way a man could.

WARNING⚠️

18+, mature themes, explicit sexual content, emotional trauma, intense & graphic love making, a morally grey obsessed & possessive male lead with temper issues, & a broken female protagonist.

Reader discretion is strongly advised.