....4....
....THIRD PERSON POV....
Ezra Thorns; Her mouth looks so fuckable
"Oh my fucking God!" Sapphire screamed as she bolted upright, scrambling off the bed. Her heart pounded violently in her chest as panic clawed at her throat until she choked on her own breath.
"Leave me alone!" she pleaded, voice raw. Her hands clawed at the air as if she could physically push the terror away.
The room seemed to shrink and her vision tunneled, and the more she tried to make sense of it, the less she understood.
Why her?
Why had she never known a moment of peace in her life?
Her fingers dug into her chest, desperate to hold herself together as her breaths came shallow and uneven.
Ezra didn't move, he just stood there, watching.
"Please… leave me alone," she sobbed, the words trembling as they left her lips.
"You see?" she sniffled, rushing toward him with sudden, frantic desperation. Her trembling hands grabbed the hem of his shirt. "I didn't say anything. I..I want to live."
Some part of her brain understood how pathetic she looked, but she didn't care. This wasn't about pride, it was about her survival.
Ezra's brow quirked, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. He studied her the way a predator studies prey that suddenly crawls toward it, begging to be spared.
"Please…" she whispered again, voice cracking. "…let me go."
He sighed like she was being dramatic, then yanked her closer. His grip was firm, not crushing, but it left no doubt, he was in control.
"I told you," he said softly, lips curling into that infuriating smirk, "I wasn't going to kill you."
Her breath hitched. Her tear-streaked face tilted up toward his, and for one horrifying heartbeat, she became hyper-aware of the warmth of his body, the steadiness of his pulse against her trembling chest.
Then his hand rose, brushing his thumb across her damp cheek. His touch was almost tender, wiping away a tear.
"I don't like seeing you cry over trivial things like this," he murmured, voice silken and low. "You look… cute."
A shudder rippled through her, revulsion twisted with something far more dangerous. She looked down, noticing how she was in a cloth she doesn't remember changing into.
"What happened?" She asked, voice shaky and accusing. "Did you change my cloth?"
Ezra tilted his head, reading her like an open book. The smirk never wavered. "I didn't," he said smoothly. "You woke up and started changing on your own."
"I don't remember falling asleep." She countered, never breaking eye contact even though her body trembled against his.
"You fainted as soon as you saw me." He shrugged "I panicked but then realized you just fell asleep from the shock or was it exhastion."
She wanted to scream. To claw her skin off. She knew he could see her revulsion, no matter how she tried to swallow it down.
He chuckled quietly. "You're scared."
Her hyperventilating returned in full force. Her chest heaved as she backed against the wardrobe, one hand clinging to the edge of the table for support. Her other hand clutched at her heart as if it could keep her inside her body. Silent sobs wracked her frame
.
"Help… me," she gasped, choking on air, trembling so violently she thought she'd collapse.
Ezra rose from the bed with lazy elegance, strolling toward her like this was all part of a slow, inevitable game.
"You've been shaking every second our skin touched," he said, stopping just in front of her. His eyes raked over her face, her lips, her heaving chest. "I figured you didn't like it."
He tilted his head. "Do you give me permission to touch you?"
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
"Can I touch you?" he repeated, voice calm, almost bored. She nodded rapidly, blinded by tears, too panicked to think.
"No," he said, his voice dropping, drawing out each word. "I want a verbal confirmation." He leaned closer, his breath fanning against her ear. "Can I touch you, doll?"
"…Y-yes," Sapphire wheezed, barely audible. "Good girl."
Relief swept through her body when he finally reached for her, pulling her into his arms with unexpected gentleness. He hugged her tightly, his warmth seeping into her frozen body.
One hand patted her back in slow, steady rhythms. "Deep breath," he murmured. "Deep breath."
His voice was low, hypnotic. His scent soap, something darkly masculine, wrapped around her, confusing her senses. Her body betrayed her, loosening against him even as her mind screamed in protest.
Against her will, the tremors began to fade. Her breaths, though shaky, slowed to something survivable.
He held her like that for a long time, a predator cradling its trembling prize, until the world outside that embrace felt like a faraway place.
And somehow, Sapphire drifted into sleep, clutched tightly in the arms of the man she feared most.