Chapter four

...In your Arms...

...(Whispered in shadows)...

...By :nogr_scapink...

...Chapter Five : Stay by my side...

⚠️🔞

•••••••

The night deepened.

City lights flickered below like dying stars, but inside the penthouse, fire burned hotter than ever.

The desk beneath her hips was cool.

But his hands were not.

They were fire — moving along her thighs, slipping under the hem of her skirt, palms firm, possessive, leaving trails of heat on her skin.

“Still acting like my secretary, huh?” he murmured against her neck, tongue grazing the edge of her jaw.

“I am your secretary,” she whispered breathlessly, fingers gripping his shirt. “You pay me.”

He smirked. “Then I want a refund — you’ve been very disobedient lately.”

His hand slid up, fingers brushing her inner thigh, stopping just before where she ached the most.

Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping.

“That mouth of yours,” he growled, “gives orders like a soldier in the field, but moans like a lover in heat.”

He pushed her back gently, her spine arching as he trailed kisses down her collarbone, biting softly, sucking the skin where only he was allowed to mark.

“You wear power like a second skin, babe...” he whispered. “But under all that control, you’re soft. So damn soft.”

Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer. “And you pretend to be the demon everyone fears…”

He paused, eyes locked with hers. “Pretend?”

She smirked. “You’re worse than a demon… you’re mine, Mr Vondelvier.”

That made something inside him snap.

He lifted her effortlessly off the desk, carrying her across the room like she weighed nothing, kissing her hard, deep, rough — like he wanted to claim her soul.

Clothes came off in a blur — expensive fabric tossed across the floor, lace torn, buttons scattered like coins in a game neither of them planned to lose.

He laid her on the bed, hovering above her, breathing heavy, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Say it,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Say what you are.”

"Say what?" word escape between her moans.

"Don't act that you don't know...." He whisper kissing her ear.

She bit her lip, hips rising to meet him. “Your wife.”

“Again.”

“Your woman.”

“Louder.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, lips brushing his ear. “I’m yours, Darken Knight Vondelvier. All yours.”

And when he moved inside her, it wasn’t just lust.

It was fire.

It was war.

It was two broken souls colliding in a silence only they could understand.

He took her slowly at first — deep, torturous strokes — making her beg with just his touch. Then faster, harder, until the room was filled with moans, gasps, and the sound of bodies crashing into each other like thunder and flame.

Time stopped. Reality vanished.

There was only them.

After, wrapped in sheets, she laid against his chest, breath slowly calming.

Darken ran his fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re not allowed to leave me,” he said softly. “Ever.”

She smiled, half-asleep. “Wasn’t planning to.”

She doesn't want to, all she wants is to stay by this man, by this demon until her last breath...

But deep in her heart…

She knew it's impossible.

And not all of them would let her stay.

•••••

THE next morning....

The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting soft golden rays across the luxurious bedroom. But the warmth from outside was nothing compared to what burned inside the bathroom.

Steam curled from behind the glass shower walls. Hot water rained down, misting everything. The air was thick. Wet. Wanting.

She leaned against the marble wall, head tilted back, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. Her skin glowed — warm, flushed, kissed pink by the night before.

And then by him.

Darken stood behind her, arms caging her in. Water trickled down his hard chest, gliding over every inch of ink and muscle. His hands were on her hips, thumbs stroking slow circles, holding her in place.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, letting it linger.

“You ran away after wrecking me last night,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

“I needed a shower,” she replied, breathless.

"So you thought I wouldn’t follow?”

He chuckled, deep and dark. “Rude.”

He turned her gently, her bare back against the cool tiles, water cascading between them.

His lips found her neck, tongue teasing along her pulse.

“You’re trouble in lace,” he whispered. “But I like trouble.”

Her fingers slid into his damp hair, pulling him closer as he lifted her leg around his waist. Their bodies pressed together, slick, hot, needy.

“You’re insatiable,” she gasped, as his mouth moved lower, his fingers sliding across her legs, trailing upward.

“You make me that way.”

He looked into her eyes, and something flickered there—possessiveness, yes. But also fear.

The kind only a man in love feels when he knows the world wants to rip apart the one thing that makes him human.

She cupped his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not.”

He kissed her again, this time slow, deep, passionate, claiming every inch of her mouth.

And as the steam wrapped around them like a veil, she forgot the outside world existed.

Forgot that danger was near.

Forgot that Elon—smiling, charming, mysterious Elon—was waiting just a few floors below, sipping black coffee, waiting for her appearance.

 Meanwhile, in the VIP guest suite…

Elon stood in front of the window, hands behind his back, watching the tower across from him reflect the rising sun.

His assistant entered quietly. “Sir, the documents from Berlin just arrived.”

“Good,” he said calmly, eyes fixed on the skyline. “And her schedule?”

“She’ll be escorting you to the Triad meeting this afternoon.”

He gave a faint smile. “Perfect.”

The assistant hesitated. “Do you want me to dig deeper into Mr. Vondelvier’s assets?”

Elon’s eyes narrowed, but his voice stayed soft.

“No. Not yet.”

He took a sip of coffee.

“We don’t hurt family.”

But the assistant didn’t hear the second part of that sentence, the one he whispered under his breath:

“Not unless they forget who they belong to.”

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