Page 25 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

Not my woman I correct myself. Not yet. Not in the capacity I want.

I shouldn’t want her nor should I have said such claiming words, but the moment you’re mine left my mouth, I felt the truth of them down to my soul.

Despite believing every word Regina spoke about Millie being a heartless, irresponsible monster and hating her for over a decade, I want to make every inch of her mine.

Even before she speaks, the resolution in her eyes tells me she doesn’t agree with my demand.

“I promise I won’t go back alone,” she says.

Pain and insult slash through my heart.

“But not with me?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“I won’t make a promise I might not be able to keep. What if you’re busy or there’s an emergency?” she asks.

The guileless light shining from her gorgeous blue orbs steals my breath. I shift just to enjoy the feel of her breasts against my chest.

Regina’s tales told of a selfish, manipulative girl, but the woman standing in front of me with a freshly washed face, her hair in a simple braid and wearing her pajamas with the top two buttons undone—because of my roughness and not an attempt to seduce me—seems too vulnerable and exposed to lie.

If she really wanted to manipulate me, she would have shown me her injuries the moment they happened in order to elicit sympathy, but instead she took care of my daughter without telling a soul she was hurting. She must have been in so much pain while we traveled, but other than her distant expression whenever she thought no one was looking, she gave no sign she was injured.

I don’t care what it takes, I will go with her when she returns to her apartment. Regardless of whether she is mine or not, she’s important to my daughter, so I will do everything in my power to protect her.

“You will let me know when you need to return. Understand?” I demand.

She nods. Her small head shifts in my hands. My trousers struggle to contain my throbbing cock as her soft hair brushes over my scarred flesh.

By the slump of her shoulders and her slight trembling, I know I’ve pushed her too far tonight, but I can’t leave her bruises untreated. My voice thickens and spine tingles as I speak.

“Take off your shirt.”

Her lashes widen.

“I’m not wearing a bra,” she argues.

“I know,” I quip.

She swallows. Lust pounds in my balls.

“Mr. O—”

I flex my fingers around her skull, not adding pressure just highlighting my hold on her.

“Don’t you fucking dare try to put a professional distance between us right now, Millie,” I snarl.

“But you’re my boss. This isn’t appropriate,” she insists.

“Neither is endangering your and my daughter’s health by pretending you’re fine all day when you clearly are not. Take off your shirt.”

My lungs seize when hurt shines from her eyes. Her lower lip trembles. She flits her gaze around the room as though looking for an escape.

“What are you hiding from me? Should I strip off your pants too?” I threaten.

With my cock a rod of steel and hunger gnawing at my bones, I press my fingertips against her scalp and enjoy her response.

“Don’t,” she breathes. “I can’t do this. We can’t do this. You’re a man, I’m a woman, and you’re…”

She glances down.