Page 14 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

It doesn’t feel like a kiss borne of passion, but possessiveness, as though he is reminding me that I play by his rules and nothing I say or do is going to change that. And right now, there is nothing I want more than to give in to it, right there in the kitchen. His fingers dig into my chin, his other hand on my hip, pulling me against him. I can feel the stir of his cock in his pants, the promise of something so, so good just out of reach...

His tongue snakes into my mouth the second before he pulls back, stepping away from me just as quickly as he kissed me. He drags his hand over his mouth, not breaking eye contact with me, and I struggle to bring my heartbeat back down to normal. How can he just... do that? Kiss me that way, like there is nothing he wants more than to make me his, right after he spoke to me so threateningly?

And why is there something inside me that responds to it?

"Back to your room," he tells me. "Now."

I know better than to argue this time, so I duck my head down and allow him to lead me through the corridors, back the way I came.

"I’m going to put guards on your door from here on out," he tells me darkly. "Given that the lock wasn’t enough."

My head droops. I should have been more careful leaving the room. Now there is no way I will be able to sneak around without being caught if he has his guards on red alert, looking out for me. And whatever privacy I have left is about to go out of the window.

"You don’t need to do that,” I say. “I won’t do it again, I promise. I was just... looking for a charger for my phone, that’s all."

He stops just in front of the door, looking back at me. "You didn’t hear what I told you?" he says. "Anything you need in this place, it comes from me. I’ll get you a phone charger."

I breathe a sigh of relief and step past him back into the room. If I have a charger, I can call Becky and let her know everything that is going on. I need to talk to someone else about how fucking crazy this is, or I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.

"And you’re still having a guard rotation on this door twenty-four seven."

"No!” I protest, rushing back to the door before he locks it. If he shuts me in here again, I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to talk to him in person, and I don’t want to risk letting him go without pleading my case again.

"I’m perfectly safe back at my apartment," I reason with him, doing my best to keep my voice steady. "I know that might be hard for you to believe, but⁠—"

"It’s not hard for me to believe," he replies. "But you’re safer here. And so is my child."

The way he phrases it, it’s clear which part of that equation he values more. I shake my head again, trying to cut through whatever mental block he seems to have about this child’s paternity.

"You have to hear yourself, right?" I demand. "You can’t just tell who the father of a child is this early in the pregnancy, not without a bunch of tests. This is much more likely to be Petar’s baby than it is yours, whatever you’ve deluded yourself into thinking."

"It’s not possible⁠—"

"Yes, it is!” I exclaim impatiently. "I don’t know why you’re so intent on believing that I’m not telling the truth about hooking up with Petar right before I was with you, but⁠—"

"Petar’s sterile."

I stand there for a moment, too shocked to respond, wondering if he is playing some kind of trick on me. It sounds exactly like something a man like him would play. Something cruel and needless that would make everything in my life that much harder.

"How do you⁠—"

"I just know."

He stares at me for a second, like he is daring me to argue with him. I cross my arms over my chest, doing my best to cut myself off from this conversation before it can go any further.

"I need to get some rest."

"My point exactly," he agrees, his eyes narrowing. "I’ll bring you that phone charger. But you stay here. Understand?"

I nod. No point arguing with him on this matter any further; he has clearly already made his mind up about how this is going to go. I watch as he stalks for the door, as though giving me a chance to call him back if I have more questions, but I stand my ground. I have already given him more time than he deserves in my head, and I will be damned if I allow him any more space to get under my skin.

He leaves, pulling the door shut behind him, and I make my way over to the bed, perching on the end of it and pressing my hands to my belly. Could the child I’m carrying really belong to him? Could it really be that simple, that Petar could never have been the one to get me pregnant?

I put my head in my hands, willing my mind to slow down. Whatever is happening here, I am not going to be able to make it out in one piece if I keep letting my head get the better of me. No, what I need to do now more than anything is pull myself together.

Even if it feels like the entire world is falling apart around me.

Chapter 8