Between Rage and Desire

Orion’s POV

I bent her over the bed and pulled her dress up, grabbing her waist firmly and grinding it against me.

She struggled in my arms as I tried to pull down my pants, her breath shaky, her stubborn eyes glaring up at me like I was the monster she believed I was. Maybe she was right. I felt like a beast, my control unraveling by the second as her words echoed in my mind.

“I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours.”

The way she pushed against me—like my touch was poison—only fueled the fire burning inside me. My chest heaved, and for a moment, I couldn’t recognize myself. My instincts were sharper, darker, as if something lethal was clawing its way to the surface.

“You don’t get to say that,” I growled slowly, my voice raw and dangerous. “Not after what I saw.”

Her glare didn’t falter. “What you saw? That kiss? You don’t own me, Orion! You never will so let go of me!”

Her words struck me like a whip, sharp and cruel. I knew I was losing her—if I’d ever had her to begin with. But the thought of her with Mason, of his hands on her, his lips tasting what belonged to me, made my blood boil. I couldn’t stop picturing it. The way she looked at him. The way she let it happen.

I let her go and slammed my fist into the wall beside her, the crack of drywall filling the room. She flinched, her eyes widening slightly. I didn’t want to scare her—not like this—but I couldn’t bury the rage. I couldn’t bury what I felt.

“I won’t let him touch you again,” I hissed, my voice lower now, but no less dangerous as I approached her again. “Do you hear me? Never.”

Ava’s chin tilted defiantly, her voice shaking but her spirit unyielding. “And who the hell gave you the right to decide that?”

I laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that carried all the tension swirling between us. “The second you became mine, Ava.”

Her hands pressed against my chest, shoving hard enough to put space between us. I let her go, even though every instinct screamed at me to pull her back, to hold her close until she stopped fighting me.

“I’m not yours!” she spat, her voice trembling. “And I never will be. Whatever fantasy you’ve created in your head, it’s not real. You can’t control me. I won’t allow it.”

I stepped closer again, closing the space she’d created. My hand caught her wrist, gently this time, though I could feel her pulse racing beneath my fingers. “You think this is a fantasy?” I murmured, my voice softer now, more dangerous in its quietness. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Ava, but I see it. I feel it.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as I leaned in, my face inches from hers. “The way you kissed him—” I gritted my teeth, my anger threatening to surge again. “You didn’t pull away. But you weren’t with him either, were you? You were somewhere else, lost. You felt nothing because you didn't want him. You want me.”

Her silence was deafening, her eyes betraying the panic she was trying to hide. I pressed on.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” My voice was almost a whisper, though it carried the weight of a challenge. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that when I touch you, you don’t feel this.” I brought her wrist to my chest, letting her feel the rapid beat of my heart. “Tell me your body doesn’t betray you. Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll walk away right now.”

Ava’s lips parted, but no words came. I watched her carefully, her eyes darting over my face like she was searching for something—an answer, maybe, or a way out.

“You are wrong,” she finally whispered, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her.

Liar.

I released her wrist, stepping back just slightly, though my eyes never left hers. “Say it again,” I said softly, almost taunting. “Say it like you mean it.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came. I saw it then—that flicker of confusion, of frustration. She was at war with herself, and as much as I wanted to tear her walls down, I knew I couldn’t push her any further. Not tonight.

“You’ll see it eventually, Ava,” I said, my voice calmer now, though the storm inside me was still raging. “You can deny it all you want, but this thing between us—it’s real. And it’s not going away.”

She turned her back on me, her shoulders trembling slightly as she tried to pull herself together. “You don’t know anything about me,” she muttered, her voice breaking slightly at the end.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly as I tried to calm myself. The truth was, I knew enough. Enough to understand that Mason wasn’t the problem. The problem was that she didn’t trust herself—not with me, not with what she felt when we were close.

But I could wait. For her, I would wait.

“Get some rest,” I said finally, my voice softer now. I turned toward the door, pausing with my hand on the handle. “But remember this, Ava—” I glanced back at her over my shoulder, my gaze locking onto hers. “The next time you let another man touch you, you’d better be prepared for what I’ll do to him. And to you.”

With that, I walked out of the suite, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click. I stood there for a moment, my forehead pressed against the cool surface as I let the silence consume me. My hands curled into fists at my sides, the image of Mason’s hands on her still burning in my mind.

I had to remind myself that this wasn’t over. Ava might hate me right now, but hate was better than indifference. At least she felt something. I would use that. I would win her over, no matter how long it took. I would make up for my mistakes. I would reclaim my wife.

Because she was mine. Whether she wanted to admit it or not.