Once You’re Mine: A Dark Stalker Romance (Possessing Her

Once You’re Mine: Chapter 10



Everyone’s focus shifts to me.

However, the only gaze I feel on my skin is Bennett’s. It’s brief, but in that moment, something shifts inside me, something bursting alive at his appearance. His eyes are glimmering with violence, and his body is taut with rage. I’ve never seen anything this magnificent, so fierce and primal.

“Apologize,” Bennett says to his captive.

Grady’s face is twisted in a grimace, but it slowly morphs into a sneer. “To her? Some random girl in a bar? Come on, man. It’s not like I grabbed her ass. She should’ve expected a little friendliness in a place like this.”

“Why do people refuse to do what they’re told?”

Bennett adjusts his hold on Grady’s hand, wrenching it back until the man falls to the floor in order to keep his thumb attached. The loud bang jolts me, and I take another step back, my hip bumping into the table’s edge. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the bartender watching the events with a scowl etched in his features.

A loud snap, followed by a scream of pain, arrests my attention.

I zip my gaze back to Grady, and nausea washes over me. His thumb dangles from his hand, not completely removed… but it’s close. Bennett looms over the man like an executioner, his face a complete mask.

Except for the flash of emotion in his eyes.

It lights up his gaze with intent before he slams the heel of his shoe into Grady’s palm. The man’s wailing crescendos, making me wince, but Bennett doesn’t stop. The attorney swivels his foot, grinding into the man’s hand until the first streak of crimson appears. Even in the dimly lit room, the brightness of the hue is discernible.

A warning to everyone present.

An omen to me.

Bennett crouches, bringing his face close to Grady’s and whispers, “Apologize to Miss Green for putting your filthy hands on her. Then apologize to me for touching what’s mine.”

Grady’s words are a jumbled mess, but whatever he says appeases Bennett. The lawyer walks over to me with purposeful strides until he’s standing close enough for me to smell his cologne. He removes his coat while I ignore Grady writhing on the floor in favor of watching his friends. They stare at Bennett. Every single of them has wariness in their eyes, as if they’re worried about garnering his attention.

I wouldn’t want to dance with the devil either.

Yet he’s right beside me.

Bennett drapes his coat over my shoulders and tugs at the lapels to cover me. I swing my gaze to him, unable to keep from gaping. Unlike me, his expression is void of any emotion. The warmth from his body still lingers on the material when it brushes against my skin. It’s evidence he’s human, but I’m having a hard time believing that.

He leans down, placing his lips beside my ear. His breath grazes the side of my neck, and I repress a shiver. “Come with me,” he says.

His touch ignites my blood. It’s nothing more than a simple brush of his fingers along the curve of my cheek before his hand settles at my lower back, but it has fire dancing across my skin.

Ignoring my body’s reaction, I part my lips to ask about retrieving my backpack, then immediately press them together when Bennett narrows his gaze at me. With the feel of his hand imprinting itself into my memory, he steers me through the room and leads me outside.

The night air hits my legs, and I shiver, wrapping the coat tighter around me. Bennett’s scent envelops. I inhale, bringing his essence in my lungs, wanting this tiny piece of him in secret.

How can I be drawn to a man I dislike? Because it’s the same man who rescued me.

Not once, but twice.

“My car is right there,” he says.

There’s no doubt as to which vehicle is his.

The sleek black sports car is low to the ground, giving the impression of a crouching predator ready to spring into action. Its glossy obsidian body gleams under the streetlights, flawless paint polished to a mirror sheen. Dark tinted windows hide the interior while maintaining the vehicle’s mysterious aura. The chrome door handles are recessed into the body, parting to open the doors with the touch of a button.

I stare at it as though I’ve never seen a car. In reality, I’ve never seen a vehicle like this. Similar to Bennett, it’s an image of status, wealth, and masculinity. Yet it’s aloof and untouchable, an elusive fantasy to most.

Just like the man beside me.

I halt my steps and turn to look at him. “I appreciate what you did for me, but I need to go back inside.”

Bennett’s beautiful face tightens, a muscle flicking along his jaw. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. My stuff is still inside, but more importantly, that’s my new job.”

“You no longer work there, Miss Green. And you never would’ve if my instructions had been carried out.”

“What?” I frown up at him. “Never mind.”

I shake my head, trying to clear it. Bennett destroys my thoughts, scattering them to the wind with nothing more than a single glance. Confounding me further, he takes my hand in his, threading our fingers in a secure grip. I pull at our joined hands for him to release me, but my attempt is thwarted when he tightens his hold.

A breath of frustration leaves me in a huff. “You don’t understand how much I need this job.”

Bennett yanks me to him. I collide with his chest, my feet losing purchase as I stumble in heels. He’s quick to wrap an arm around my waist and keep me upright while bringing me closer. His grip on my chin has me blinking up at him as he lifts my head, forcing me to meet his gaze.

It burns.

“You need me. Not this fucking job or anything else,” he says. “Now, get in the car before I carry you.”

“Please, just wait a second. I need to think.”

“I’ve already thought about it. In fact, I’ve thought of nothing else.”

He grabs my hips, his fingers digging into the material of my skirt. Right before he tosses me over his shoulder. After securing his hold on the back of my thighs, he walks to the car. My hair covers my face, the tendrils swaying in time with his steps, hiding my embarrassment from the people on the street.

Bennett stops, opens the car door, and then deposits me inside. I sink into the leather seat, my jaw slack. I’ve never been manhandled in my entire life, but from the way my heart pounds and my blood races through my veins, I suspect I’m not as opposed to it as I should be.

He takes advantage of my stupor and leans inside to grab the seatbelt. His face is so close that if he turns his head, he’ll kiss me. I press myself into the seat, my efforts futile when the man himself is an overwhelming presence, one that dominates my senses. The clean and crisp scent of him fills my nose, and the heat from him seeps into me. My body is painfully aware of his proximity, the nearness of his hands so close to my skin. His breath grazes my cheek as he secures the seatbelt across my chest and into the buckle.

I’m drowning in him, without the promise of sweet relief in either deliverance or death.

“Don’t try to run,” he says, staring into my eyes. “I can see you want to, but don’t.”

“Why?”

“I will always chase you.”

He pulls back and slams my car door before I can think of a response. Not that there’s much to be said. Everything about this man confuses me. Especially the way my body responds to touch, regardless of how my mind warns me about him.

Bennett slips into the driver’s seat, filling the small space with his potent energy. My gaze stays locked on him while he fixes his seatbelt, turns on the car, and grabs the steering wheel; his fingers moving deftly but with a grace that has my skin prickling.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

I flick my gaze to his. “What?”

“Stop looking at me like you want my hands on your body.” He inhales as if to keep a hold on himself, his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. “If I touch you, I won’t ever stop.”

I drop my head and lace my fingers, resting them in my lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about sexual attraction, Miss Green.”

“You’re mistaken, Mr. Bennett.” I squeeze my hands together until they’re shaking. “If I’m looking at you in any specific way, it’s because you’re scaring me.”

“Fear is healthy. It keeps you from hurting yourself.” He pauses, his gaze far away, distant. “But it doesn’t stop you from getting hurt by others.”

He puts the car into drive and pulls onto the busy street. I shift my focus to the city just outside the window. I can’t look at him when I ask the question that’s been in my mind ever since I saw him at the coffee shop.

“Do you want to hurt me?”

“Sometimes.”

His answer, immediate and honest, steals my breath. I bite my tongue to ground myself, but also to keep from saying anything that’ll provoke him. Maybe I should run, even if he promised he’ll chase me.

“Why?” I ask, my whisper barely there. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You’ve ruined me, Miss Green.”

“Calista. If you’re going to say such things, at least use my name. I think we’re beyond formalities after the events that have transpired tonight.”

“I agree, Callie.”

I sneak at glance at him. “No one’s ever called me that.”

“And no one else ever will.”

I ignore the way my heart stutters in my chest and the way my breathing goes shallow. Instead, I focus on the man who’s taken me captive, both physically and mentally. There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought of Mr. Bennett. Possibly not even a night.

He invades my dreams.

Turning them into fantasies that I’ll never admit to.

“Give me your address,” he says.

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. If I show him where I live, my humiliation will know no bounds. I’m not simply poor. I live in the dregs of society, the places someone like Bennett cannot even fathom. I know I didn’t before my father’s untimely death.

On the other hand, if I let Bennett see how dire my life truly is, maybe he’ll be disgusted. And leave me alone. Because at the end of the day, that’s what I want. I never asked him to interfere, to wreak havoc with my thoughts and to awaken my body.

“Give me your address, or we’ll go to mine,” he says. “Either way, you’re coming with me.”


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