Twisted-Games

Possessiveness and anger gripped me—not at her, but at our situation and
a world where we were forced to sneak around like criminals. I hated having
to hide her, us. I wanted the world to know she was mine and mine alone. I
wanted to tattoo myself into her skin and sink into her so fucking deep she
could never get me out.
“Take off your dress,” I said.
“Rhys—”
“Take. It. Off.”
I heard Bridget’s breath hitch from across the room, but she didn’t argue
again. Instead, she reached behind her and did as I asked, keeping her eyes on
mine the entire time.
Other than our harsh breaths, the soft metallic slide of the zipper was the
only sound breaking the silence.
I remained still, my muscles coiled with tension.
I couldn’t claim her the way I wanted outside these walls, but right here,
right now, when it was just the two of us?
I was going to take her until we were both utterly ruined.