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I nod.

The gesture feels final, absolute. Like I’m sealing my fate with just a gesture of my head.

“Words, baby girl.” His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. He wants me to say the words, confirm my destiny, removing any inkling of doubt.

“Yes.” I don’t know if it’s true, I’m doubting myself. Doubting him. I’m not sure who I believe anymore. My parents are certain he’s to blame, and for a while, I was too. I’m not sure it’s not him, but even so, I can’t help the way my body responds to him.

My nipples harden, pebbling underneath the fabric of my top. My core tightens and I know he can tell I’m turned on just by the sound of his voice when he talks to me.

I like him like this.

Demanding.

Controlling.

I want to pretend I don’t. I want to think I’m a strong woman. But I melt when he puts his hands on me and whispers in my ear. When he tells me what to do.

I’m putty in his palms.

He’s not my hero, I know that. He’ll never be my knight in shining armor, he won’t swoop me into his arms and save me from danger. He’s my villain, with dark hair and a sinful smile.

“What are you thinking about, baby girl?” he asks, the tip of his finger draws a line from my temple down my cheek, sending a spark with it. He traces down my jawline to my throat, my collarbone. He lingers at the hem of my hoodie. “Tell me.”

“You.” I whisper. That’s the truth. He fills my mind, his presence always lingering in my head. I can’t shake the thought of him, and when I finally do I feel dead inside.

I’m a sucker for him. For his words, his pretty face—everything about him has me hooked. His hand drifts to my face, palming my cheek. His warmth permeates me.

He grins, “Yeah, baby?”

I nod, which only encourages him to continue, but I’m already too deep. I feel my layers melting away, stripping me bare for him. I’ve always belonged to Noah Bancroft.

“Take this off.” He pulls on the strings of the hoodie.

“Noah—” I start to talk, to stop this, to use words to bring me out the haze I’m surrounded by.

“Don’t think, baby, just let me take care of you.” His words float from his lips and I want to believe him. I want to be here in this moment instead of stuck in my head, over-analyzing every detail.

I frown, unsure. Two days ago, I was certain that Noah was a bad guy. It was only this morning that he started to twist up my feelings, making me unsure of myself. If I let him in now, I’m afraid he’ll wreck me.

“You’re overthinking,” he whispers, and he’s not wrong. I can’t get out of my own head.

I pull the hoodie over my head, exposing myself to him. I have nothing but a pair of panties on underneath. I’m naked in front of him, but it feels like more than that. I feel bare, exposed. This gesture, this one move is changing everything, warping it. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring after this.

He hums his approval, his hand trailing down to my tits, cupping one of them in his palm. He rolls my nipple between his fingers sending a spark through my body. “Lay back, baby.”

I listen. Pushing all of my fears and doubts aside, I lay back and just let myself feel. Hands rub up my thighs softly, caressing me. The motio

n is comforting and I find myself relaxing into his touch. Heat courses through my body and I know I’m already wet for him, turned on just by his touch, his words.

He likes to trick me like that, give me soft comforting motions, ease me in before he snakes his hand up and around my throat. I think I should be scared, but it's never scared me, it's only had the opposite effect.

Even now, as one hand lightly presses on my windpipe and the other drifts down under my panties, I'm not scared and I don’t hate him.

Instead, I let him explore my body, a body he knows well. We were never innocent when we were together. It was always rough and passionate. Hard kisses against brick walls. His hand between my legs and his belt around my neck. We were never soft and I never wanted to be.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, his mouth presses against mine, teeth biting down on my bottom lip.

The mixture of pain with pleasure heightens every sensation. As the air becomes more difficult to breath in, a slight pinch from his fingers digging into my throat, I grow needier for him. I want him more, the more it hurts.

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