42

Chapter 42

I couldn't stop thinking about how mad Richard was at me. It was messing with my head, making it hard to think clearly. Guilt consumed me, and all I could think about was fixing things before the day ended. But how?

I couldn't come up with a good way to apologize. Every time I tried, my mind kept flashing back to him in the gym—his punches strong and punishing, muscles flexing and glistening with sweat. I could almost feel his power, imagining his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me against his chest. The thought of it made me feel hot and flustered

I paced around my room, going over everything that had happened. Then, suddenly, a thought hit me.

A few minutes later, I found myself outside his room. The manor was quiet and my heart was pounding in my chest as I pushed the door open. Richard was sitting on his bed, watching the news. When he saw me, his jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything right away. His face was hard to read but the tension in the air was thick.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked, his voice sharp but not as angry as I'd expected.

I stepped inside and closed the door softly behind me before locking it. His eyes narrowed at the sound. My legs felt weak but I forced myself to move toward him. He watched me warily, his brows furrowing.

"You're not supposed to be in here." he said, his tone annoyed but curious.

Ignoring his protest, I climbed onto the bed and straddled his lap, facing him. His body stiffened beneath me and his hands clenched into fists at his sides as if he was fighting to keep control. I leaned closer, my face inches from his. He stared at me, his gaze hard but conflicted, his breathing uneven.

"Carl..." he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry." I said. My voice was shaky, but I didn't back down. "I need to fix this. I can't stand you being mad at me."

His jaw clenched, but he didn't pull away as I brought my lips to his cheek, pressing a soft kiss there before trailing down to his neck. His scent was intoxicating, something I could never get enough of. His hands jerked as if he wanted to grab me but was holding himself back.

"Damn it, Carl. I'm still mad at you." he muttered, his voice rough. But he didn't stop me. He didn't push me away.

I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me. "Tell me to stop and I will." I said softly.

He didn't say a word. His gaze dropped to my lips and something in his eyes shifted, a flicker of vulnerability beneath the anger. Taking his silence as permission, I kissed him. His lips were warm, soft yet firm, and the taste of him made my head spin. For a moment he didn't respond but then he kissed me back, hard and demanding. His hands finally moved, gripping my waist with a commanding force that made me feel giddy.

"Is this your way of apologizing?" he asked, breaking the kiss but keeping me close, his forehead resting against mine.

"If it is what it takes to calm you down, then yes." I said, out of breath. "But I'm serious. I'm sorry, Richard. I messed up."

He studied me for a long moment, his expression softening slightly. "I'm going to need more than that," he said, his voice low but no longer angry.

I nodded, determined to make things right. "You're right. I should have told you about the kiss. I made a promise to be honest with you, and I broke that. I'm not here to manipulate you into forgiving me easily because the truth is... I'm selfish, Richard, and right now I want you."

I closed the distance between us and pressed our cheeks together. "I need you." I whispered with raw desperation.

His hands tightened around my waist as I felt him stir beneath me, his eyes burning with a new intensity.

"You're not playing fair." he growled.

"Well what do you want me to do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "Tell me everything. What else did he do?"

"Nothing," I said truthfully, shaking my head. "I pushed him away."

"Did he tell you that he likes you?"

"No, but I think he does."

"Did you like the kiss?" His voice was a low rumble now, filled with possessiveness.

"No," I said firmly. "The only person I want to kiss right now is you."

His gaze darkened, and in one swift motion, he flipped me onto my back, pinning me beneath him. His strength was overwhelming, but instead of fear, I felt exhilaration.

"Is that the truth?" he asked, his face inches from mine, searching my eyes for any sign of a lie.

"Yes," I breathed. "It's the truth."

He grimaced. "These lips belong to me."  he said, his fingers tracing the outline of my mouth. "I can't believe he had a taste of them." He crushed his mouth to mine,  fierce and almost punishing, as though he was erasing any trace of someone else.

"You know what pissed me off the most?" he murmured against my lips.

"What?" I whispered back.

"When the guard called him your boyfriend." His hands gripped my shoulders, holding me in place. "I never had the chance to claim you as mine in public but this random baker gets tagged as your boyfriend with just one kiss."

"He's not wrong," I said, unable to resist teasing him even in this moment. "He is my boy friend."

Richard pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing. "What?"

"My boy space friend," I clarified, a smirk tugging at my lips. "He has the space. You don't. And since we're already pressed against each other, that would be you."

His expression softened for the first time, a smirk of his own forming. "I'm your what?"

"I guess I can call you my boyfriend." my voice faltered when I said the word.

"Repeat that. I'm your what?" he pressed, leaning closer, his breath warm against my skin.

"My boyfriend," I said again, and I felt him twitch above me.

"You don't know how much I want to fuck you right now," he growled, his voice rough with need.

"I'm ready," I said under my breath, my cheeks heating. "I prepped myself earlier."

Richard's restraint snapped. His hands moved masterfully, stripping my clothes away before shedding his own. The sight of him left me breathless. His hands roamed over my body, igniting every nerve ending. My skin tingled under his touch.

"Mine." he murmured possessively, his voice deep and raw. He lowered his mouth to my chest. His lips and tongue teasing my skin until I was writhing beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Please, Richard," I begged, the anticipation almost unbearable. "I need you inside me."

"Not yet," he said, his tone teasing, a dark smile playing on his lips. "I want you to feel the frustration you've been putting me through."

"Please," I repeated, desperate. He seemed to revel in my need, his hands and lips driving me to the edge.

Finally, as if appeased by my pleading, he positioned himself over me, gaze locked onto mine. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered me, filling me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that left me gasping.

"You're mine." he murmured into my ear. "No one else should kiss you, let alone touch you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whispered, my hands clutching at his shoulders. "I'm yours."

He began to move, his pace steady but intense, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through my body. His lips found mine again, the kiss messy and desperate. The room was filled with the sounds of our bodies moving together.

"Who's your boyfriend?" he asked, his voice a low growl against my skin.

"You are," I answered without hesitation.

"And who do you belong to?"

"You." I gasped, my voice almost breaking.

"Good, remember that." he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. He held me tighter, his movements becoming more urgent. With one final explosive thrust, ecstasy overtook us and our bodies trembled in unison. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the rhythmic beat of our racing hearts.