Cruel Obsession (The Obsession Duet 1)

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Zane whispers as he pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. Holding the broken pieces of my soul together.

I know I shouldn’t, that it’s stupid and wrong, but I seek out his comfort. Needing it so badly, it hurts. I’m too weak to deny it.

He’s nothing but a stranger, but he’s all I have. Clutching onto his shirt, I pull him closer. I want to embed myself beneath his skin. Burying my face in his chest, I inhale deeply. Clean. He smells like soap and man, and very slowly, the dream recedes.

As I come down, floating like a leaf through the air, I’m reminded that the last time I felt this safe was with him… William.

It doesn’t make sense. I shouldn’t feel safe with this man. He’s certifiably crazy, he drugged me, kidnapped me, and that’s not even mentioning all the other things that he’s done, but at this moment, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

There has to be something wrong with me if I’m seeking out the comfort of my captor.

After what seems like forever, he pulls back, his eyes travel down my body and land on the spot where my scar is hiding under my clothes. He must’ve seen me holding my stomach. I expect there to be a hunger, a lustful need in his gaze, but there isn’t. All I find is a tenderness that makes my chest tighten.

“You’re safe, Dove. You’ll always be safe with me. Whatever your nightmare was about, it was only a dream. I’ll always watch out for you.” Something about those words tugs on me. It takes my sleepy brain a moment to let what he just said sink in.

You’re safe. I’ll always watch out for you…

“That night, when I walked home from the club, did you follow me?”

“I did.”

“There was a guy at the party. I think he followed me—”

“The one in the plaid shirt?”

“Yeah. He was following me home, wasn’t he?”

“He was, but I took care of him.” I draw in a shaky breath, not knowing how to feel about what he just said. Took care of him. That’s code for killing him. “He wanted to hurt you, Dove, and he would have if I hadn’t been there.”

I know he is right. That guy would have hurt me, but did he deserve to die because of it? I feel terrible, strangely not because he died, but because I feel very little remorse, even though it’s partly my fault.

Lifting his hand, he softly touches my skin there. Even through the thin fabric of my sleep shirt, the gentle touch feels like an electric shock. Not one that would make you hurt, but one that wakes you up, makes you feel alive.

His fingers dance over the scar, and he touches it the same way I touch it when I’m nervous. Closing my eyes, I let my arms fall to my side and just let him touch me. I revel in the feel of his fingers on me. Enjoying the closeness without thinking about all the craziness between us.

For a moment, I just want to be happy and feel safe. He gently tucks me back into his side, his fingers never stop caressing my stomach, moving back and forth right over my marred skin.

“Go back to sleep,” Zane coaxes, his voice deeper than usual. “It’s still the middle of the night.”

Exhaustion washes over me again as I settle deeper into the down feather pillow. My head feels heavy, just like the rest of my body. I shouldn’t feel content in his arms. I shouldn’t let him touch me like this, in an intimate but non-sexual way. I shouldn’t… but I am. And that’s how I fall back asleep. Content and happy, blissfully ignoring the danger I’m in. Tomorrow, I’ll worry about what I’ve let happen. For now, I’m going to let my captor give me a belly rub, enjoying every second of it as I drift back into a dreamless sleep.

16

I hardly sleep for the rest of the night. Not because I’m not tired, but because I don’t want this moment to end. It feels like a dream, one I’m going to wake up from any second. I hate that she had such a nightmare, but I fucking love the way she came to me. She let me calm her down, the way she opened up, letting me hold her, touch her. For the first time, it felt like she really believed that I was more than the guy who took her.

Lying there beside Dove, I watch her chest rise and fall for a long time. My gaze moves slowly as if I’m taking a picture of each part of her. Soft, pink, plump lips, tiny nose, beautiful high cheeks. The tiny freckle in the corner, near her lip. I don’t want to ever forget these moments with her.