Chapter 49
Scarlett POV
Alexander shoved me forcefully against the car seat, his kisses crashing down like a tempest, overwhelming and undeniable, carrying an air of predatory conquest.
The seat suddenly reclined backward, and before I could react, his heavy body pressed down on me, pinning me in place, leaving me unable to move.
Our kisses were never gentle—Alexander seemed born with a wild, aggressive edge, especially in moments like this.
The cigarette between my fingers still burned, its faint red glow flickering in the dim interior of the car.
As my back was forced against the seat, the old injury flared up, a jolt of pain surging through me like an electric current.
“Ah—” I couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper, though I quickly bit my lower lip, unwilling to appear too weak in front of him.
Tears slipped uncontrollably down my cheeks, soaking into the shirt over his chest. Alexander’s movements didn’t falter—he either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care.
My body trembled faintly from the pain, and it seemed to ignite something in him. His eyes darkened, his actions growing even more fervent.
His teeth grazed my earlobe, his low voice laced with a hint of mockery. “Why are you shaking?”
I couldn't respond; it felt like something was blocking my throat, leaving me to surrender to his control over the pace.
His hand slipped under my shirt, his fingertips cold yet commanding, tracing slowly along my waist as if deliberately testing my limits.
My breathing grew erratic, my chest heaving violently. I tried to push him away, but he only pressed me down harder.
His lips slid from my neck to my collarbone, each kiss branding me with searing possessiveness.
The confined space of the car felt suffocating; the cool leather pressed against my back, while the heat from his body scorched me in front.
My legs were forced to wrap around his waist, my skirt hiked up to my hips, the skin at the tops of my thighs laid bare.
With a rough tug, he tore open my shirt, the sound of buttons popping echoing sharply in the car. My shirt fell open completely, the skin of my chest glaringly exposed in the dim light.
He yanked my bra upward in one swift motion, my breasts spilling out into the cold air, my nipples hardening painfully from tension and the chill.
He lowered his head and bit down on one side, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. I couldn’t suppress a low moan, my body arching like a puppet under his control.
I felt a wave of dizziness as his breath hit my face, the smell of tobacco and sweat so strong.
My hands pushed against his chest in a half-hearted struggle, but he seized them, twisting them behind my back.
With one hand, he pinned my wrists; with the other, he gripped my waist, the pressure sharp enough to make me gasp.
“Don’t move,” he rasped, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.
I froze, too afraid to resist. His hand slipped into my underwear, his fingertips brushing the inside of my thigh. My whole body shuddered, a rush of wetness escaping despite myself.
A low chuckle rumbled in my ear, and then his fingers pushed deeper, reaching my core without hesitation.
His unrestrained touch made me want to vanish from shame, yet my body burned with heat.
My clitoris was suddenly squeezed, and I let out a broken moan, hating myself for being so sensitive.
His blue eyes sparkled with satisfaction, “Enjoying it that much?”he taunted, his fingers quickening their rhythm.
I clamped my legs together to stop him, but his knee forced its way between them, leaving me entirely exposed to his gaze.
I felt the hard, searing heat of his erection pressing against the inside of my thigh. My heart pounded so fast it felt like it might explode.
Lost in a daze, I barely registered him pinching my nipple hard, tears spilling over once more.
He leaned close to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Relax. Don’t clench so tight,” he murmured, his voice seductive yet commanding.
He lifted my hips, entering me slowly. The tearing pain made my breath catch, my nails digging into the leather seat, tears falling onto his arm.
He looked down at me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my collarbone, the heat making me flinch.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, though his tone held little tenderness.
I nodded, biting my lip. He let out a soft, mocking laugh, then kissed me, taking advantage of my distraction to thrust hard. My scream was muffled into a whimper against his mouth.
His rhythm started slow, then quickened. Gradually, my mind began to blur, the wet, slick sounds filling my ears with humiliating clarity.
He bit down on one nipple, his tongue flicking over it, and my moans came out fractured. I despised my own helplessness.
Finally, with a fierce thrust amid my high-pitched cries, he growled and released, the scalding heat bursting inside me.
I collapsed against the seat, the sticky mess seeping out of me, shame so intense I wanted to die.
He rested against my shoulder, his sweat dripping onto me, the heat making me tremble again.
Outside, the wind howled faintly. A sudden panic gripped me—what if someone had seen us through the window?
I shoved at his chest, desperate to put distance between us, only to feel a sharp sting at my scalp.
He tangled my hair in his hand, forcing me to look up. He chuckled softly, ‘Afraid someone might see?’
His voice was mocking and piercing, and my face felt like it was about to catch fire.
When Luke opened the car door, I was utterly spent, lacking even the strength to stand.
Alexander lifted me out of the car like I was something fragile, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, too ashamed to meet Luke’s eyes, terrified of seeing pity or ridicule in them.
But then I recalled Luke’s earlier look of surprise—had it been because none of Alexander’s other lovers had ever received this kind of treatment? The thought sparked a strange flicker of pride in me, quickly drowned by disgust at myself for feeling it.
What was wrong with me? How could I take satisfaction in something like this?
Once inside the car, Luke glanced at us through the rearview mirror. “Mr. Grey, where to?” His eyes betrayed a curiosity he couldn’t hide.
I leaned against Alexander’s chest, feeling like a ragdoll in his hands.
His arm encircled me possessively. In that moment, I felt both terrified and oddly secure, my emotions a tangled mess.
“Majestic Oak Villa,” Alexander replied after a moment’s thought.
Never had anyone mentioned that Alexander had property here; this should be his private residence.
He wasn’t just dumping me at some hotel—did that make me special? Or did it mean I was stepping into even greater danger?
My eyes half-closed, my thoughts drifted. This was an opportunity, I told myself. If I could earn Alexander’s trust, maybe I could uncover something useful.