Page 49 of Shattered Obsession

“I’m here,” I reply, my voice soft, yet reverberating with the thrill of his return.

With a swift motion, he drops his gear by the door, metal against wood, a sound that feels achingly normal, and crosses the room in long strides. He smells like sawdust and cold night wind. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close, melting away the stress of his day as soon as our lips meet in a kiss filled with tenderness and depth. When he hugs me, something in my chest unclenches.

His warmth seeps into my skin like sunlight under ice. No rush. No demand. Just presence.

He cups my jaw gently, not to control, but to hold.

I forgot that someone’s hands can be soft.

He kisses my forehead before my lips.

Every time he does that, I fall a little more.

It feels slow, consuming, as if we’re the only two people in the world and nothing else matters. And in this moment, perhaps I truly am the only thing that matters to him.

He heads toward the bathroom, and I watch him go, broad shoulders, towel slung over one arm, humming under his breath.

I realize something.

He never checks to see if I follow.

He trusts me to stay.

The thought hits harder than it should.

Damian watched the door.

Xander doesn’t even glance back.

Because he doesn’t fear losing me.

He chooses me, every day, without chains.

And I choose him back.

After Xander disappears down the hall toward the shower, steam starts billowing through the door. The water masks every other noise, leaving my heartbeat loud in my ears. Safety has a sound—the shower running means the apartment is sealed and Xander is home.

I rush to the bedroom as an idea sparks, impulsive and electric. I want to greet him with confidence instead of fear. I want to choose something bold. My pulse is wild, a mix of nerves and excitement as I dig into the small velvet bag I tucked away earlier. The toy glints in my hand, stainless steel catching the low light, the ruby-like gem at the end sparkling like a secret. I grab the lube, my hands trembling as I coat it, then lean over the bed, pressing the plug against my ass. A hiss slips from my lips as it pushes in, snug, filling me in a way that makes me shiver.

By the time I smooth down the red skirt and check the mirror, I look like nothing’s out of place, except for the knowing heat in my eyes. I hear the water shut off and the thud of the shower door.

When he steps into the bedroom, towel hanging low on his hips, his eyes immediately lock on me. Whatever exhaustion he brought home vanishes in an instant.

“You’re up to something,” he says, suspicion tugging his mouth into a grin. I saunter closer, my fingers trailing down his damp chest before I press a kiss to his lips.

My other hand grips his jaw, keeping him close as I deepen the kiss, letting him taste the smirk behind it. “Maybe,” I whisper, pulling just far enough away to tease him. He growls low in his throat, sliding his hands down my body until they hook under the hem of my skirt. His touch pauses, his brows lifting when he finds nothing underneath. And then, his fingers brush the jeweled base. His eyes darken instantly.

“Thalia…” Before he can say more, I shove gently at his chest, pushing him back toward the bed.

“Lay down,” I murmur, my voice steady despite the storm in my chest. He obeys, but the look on his face is pure fire, his control unraveling with each second he watches me strip. My top falls away, then my skirt pools on the floor, leaving me bare except for the gem glinting between my cheeks.

Xander sits up, his hunger barely leashed. “You’re going to kill me.”

I climb onto the bed, straddling him, my lips finding his again. His hands roam greedily, gripping my ass, tugging me against the hard line of his cock beneath the towel. When he flips me onto my back, his mouth descends on me like a man starved. Kisses down my throat, teeth scraping against my skin, one hand gripping my breast while the other slides lower, teasing, relentless. His groan of approval vibrates against my chest as he works me open with his fingers, his mouth closing over my nipple. I arch under him, gasping, the sensation of being stretched and filled heightened by the weight of the plug still snug inside me. He pulls back to look down at me, his hand wrapping lightly around my throat.

“You planned this just to wreck me, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathe, my lips curling in a desperate smile. “Now ruin me.”