Ana woke up the next morning with a heaviness in her chest that seemed to weigh down her entire body. The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, but it did nothing to lighten the oppressive air that clung to her bedroom.
Last night felt like a dream—or a nightmare. Hayden's presence was so consuming that it seemed to linger even after he had left. His touch. His words. The way he made her feel like she was both his prize and his punishment.
She sat up in bed, her fingers pressing against her forehead, trying to push the memories away. But they clung to her, relentless. She knew what this was—she had felt the dangerous attraction, the way he could twist her emotions with a single look, a single word. But the pull between them was stronger than she had anticipated, and now she was left to navigate the aftermath of their twisted encounter.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it, the familiar sound pulling her from her thoughts. It was a message from Hayden.
**"I'll be back in an hour. Don't leave the house."**
Ana's stomach twisted. She didn't have to ask why. She knew why. He was possessive. He was in control. And now that he had claimed her, there was no escape.
The realization hit her like a cold wave: *This wasn't just a game for him. This was a war.*
She glanced at the clock—only twenty minutes had passed since he had sent the message. Time seemed to slow, dragging her into a state of dread. There was no telling what he would do next.
But deep down, Ana knew one thing for sure: she had no control.
As the minutes ticked by, she found herself pacing around the room, unable to stand still. Her mind raced. Her body, too, betrayed her, aching for him, longing for his touch despite the rage she wanted to direct at him.
The door creaked open, and Ana's heart jumped. There was no need for words. Hayden walked into the room, his gaze immediately locking onto her, dark and unreadable. The storm was always there in his eyes—the same storm that had burned through her last night.
"You look beautiful," he said, his voice deep, rough with something primal. "But I'm not here to admire the view."
Ana stiffened, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want, Hayden?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, but she already knew the answer. He wanted control. He always wanted control.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence filling the room, suffocating her. "You're mine," he said simply, his voice thick with ownership.
The words had the same effect on her as they always did—like a slap, followed by a caress. His claim wasn't just physical. It was mental. Emotional. It gnawed at her, twisting inside her, forcing her to acknowledge that she was already trapped.
Ana's breath caught in her throat as he reached for her, his fingers brushing the side of her cheek. The tenderness of the touch was jarring, considering how ruthless he had been before. But there was nothing soft about him, not really. Even in his gentleness, there was a power behind every move. A threat, a promise.
She tried to pull back, but he was faster. His hand shot out, grabbing her by the wrist, pulling her toward him.
"You think you can walk away?" Hayden's voice was a low growl, the challenge in it clear. "You're mine now, Ana. You don't get to choose when you want me, or when you don't."
Ana tried to free her wrist from his grip, but he was too strong. He pulled her against him, and she could feel the heat of his body, the firm muscle beneath his shirt.
"Let me go, Hayden," she said, her voice trembling, a mix of anger and something else—something darker, something she didn't want to admit. "I don't belong to you."
His eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "That's where you're wrong. You do belong to me. Whether you want it or not. Whether you admit it or not."
Ana's chest tightened as she looked up into his face, the hardness of his features making her breath hitch. She could see the storm in his eyes, feel the ferocity in his touch. There was no escaping it. No escaping *him*.
He moved then, his lips crashing onto hers with a hunger that made her body burn. She tried to resist, tried to pull away, but it was impossible. His kiss consumed her, his hands roaming over her body, as if he were claiming every inch of her.
A part of her wanted to scream. To shout that she wasn't some object to be taken. But the other part of her—the part that had been awakened by him—wanted to give in. She could feel her resolve slipping, piece by piece, as he ravaged her lips, his hands moving with purpose.
His grip on her wrist tightened, forcing her body to arch into him. She gasped, a soft sound escaping her lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding entry. She gave in then, just a little, and his kiss deepened further, as if he knew he had her, body and soul.
But he wasn't done. His hands moved lower, sliding down her body, as if he were marking her, taking what was his. She shuddered under his touch, her body reacting despite the anger and confusion swirling inside her.
When he finally pulled away, he looked down at her with dark satisfaction, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "You can fight it all you want," he said, his voice rough. "But it won't change anything. You belong to me now, Ana."
Ana's heart pounded in her chest, the taste of him still on her lips. She didn't want to acknowledge it, but she knew it was true. She was already in too deep.
And there was no escaping him now.