Bound to my Enemy-Chapter 102.
My hands are shaking and I hate that he can probably see it. I hate that I’m standing here half naked in front of him, feeling exposed in more ways than one.
"How did you even get in?" I ask.
"The same way you did," he replies.
My chest tightens. "You have a key? My key?."
He doesn’t answer directly.
Of course he does.
Of course he does.
I feel stupid for ever thinking this place was separate from him. That I could just disappear into it and he wouldn’t know.
"You scared me," I say, and my voice cracks despite how hard I try to keep it steady. "You don’t just sit in the dark in someone’s bedroom."
His expression shifts slightly at that. Something flickers there. Regret, maybe. Or irritation at himself.
"I knocked," he says.
"I was in the shower."
He looks at my damp hair. The towel and water still clinging to my skin.
Silence stretches between us
My breathing is still uneven and I can feel my pulse in my wrists where I’m gripping the towel.
"Why did you leave?" he asks.
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. "You’re asking me that?"
"You packed a bag and disappeared."
"I woke up to you covered in someone else’s blood," I shoot back. "You think I’m just going to stay and act normal?"
His jaw tightens again.
"I told you not to worry."
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. "Not to worry? You said you fucking killed someone!."
He stands up slowly.
I stiffen immediately, pressing my back against the wall near the bathroom door.
He notices the way my body reacts to him.
And something in his face changes. Anger crossing his features
"I’m not going to fucking hurt you," he says.
"You don’t get to say that like it means anything," I whisper.
My mind is racing. Part of me is still in shock that he’s here. Another part is angry, another part is terrified and another horny part of me that I’m trying to push down down is remembering the feeling of him between my pussy pussy and it’s clouding my reasoning.
And somewhere deep under all of it is something wors
Relief.
Because he’s here.
Because I’m not alone anymore.
And I hate that part of me.
"I needed space," I say, quieter now. "I needed to think."
"And you couldn’t do that in my house?"
"Our house" I correct automatically, then regret it.
His eyes narrow slightly at the slip.
"I was scared," I admit, the words dragging out of me. "I didn’t know if I was next."
The room goes very still after that
He stares at me like I’ve slapped him.
"You think I’d kill you?" he asks.
"I don’t know what you’d do anymore," I answer honestly.
My fingers dig into the towel. My arms ache from holding it so tight but I don’t loosen my grip on it.
We stand there, facing each other in the quiet condo, the air still thick from my shower.
He leans back slowly, eyes dragging down my body. Not rushed Just... taking his time.
"You really thought you could run from me? Little spitfire. "
His voice is calm too calm for the anger I’m seeing on his face.
Anger flashes through me fast enough to overpower the fear.
"I didn’t run. I needed space."
He stands slowly approaching me.
"No one leaves without telling me."
"I’m not your freaking property Zane."
His jaw tightens at that, just a shift with Something darker settling behind his eyes.
"You’re my wife."
"That’s just on a piece of paper."
"That’s not what you said the other nught."
Heat rushes to my face and my grip on the towel tightens again.
The other night flashes in my head. His hands on me , his mouth. The way I held onto him like he was the only thing grounding me.
I hate that he knows that.
I say. "That doesn’t mean I belong to you."
He moves closer, taking measured steps.
"No," he says quietly. "But it does mean you don’t get to pretend I don’t matter.".
He stops in front of me and my breathing shifts, he’s close enough that I feel his heat, Close enough that if I move forward half an inch, my body will touch his.
"No one runs away from me," he says, voice lower now. "Especially not my wife."
My pulse spikes.
"And if she does?" I say daring him.
His eyes drop to my mouth. Then lower..... then back up.
"Then I remind her and if she doesn’t get it into her thick skull then I’m going to fuck it into her"
The air feels thicker.
My fingers are still gripping the towel but my chest rising too fast so it’s almost slipping from my hands. My brain is telling me to argue, to push back to tell him to leave.
But my body is reacting differently.
"You don’t get to control me," I say.
He steps closer.
"I’m not controlling you."
He leans down slightly. His voice near my ear.
"I’m reminding you that you want me."
My breath catches.
"That’s arrogant of you."
"Is it?"
His hand lifts slowly and he brushes his knuckles down my bare arn
I shiver.
There it is.
His eyes sharpen.
"You’re shaking wife."
"It’s cold..... it’s from the cold."
"It’s not."
He slides his hand lower, down my arm, over my hip and pauses at the towel.
"If you think you can just disappear from me, from us, you don’t understand what we are."
"What are we?" I whisper.
He looks at me like I’m asking something stupid.
"Husband and wife. Little spitfire."
My throat tightens.
His fingers hook lightly into the edge of the towel.
But he doesn’t pull yet.
"Drop it."
I swallow.
"You don’t get to order me around Zane ."
His gaze darkens.
"Then choose."
Silence.
My heart is racing so hard I feel it in my fingertips. My thighs. Everywhere!.
