Chapter 139
[ 583 words ]
Chapter 139:
Jarrod stood right at the edge of the mattress. His deep gray eyes locked onto Caroline. The tender, reassuring warmth from a moment ago vanished. As he looked down at her, seeing the fragile surrender in her posture, a different, more primal instinct flared. It wasn’t simple lust; it was a violent, territorial fear of the peace he felt. This tenderness was a weakness he couldn’t afford, a vulnerability she could exploit. A sudden, dark flicker of irrational possessiveness crossed his features—a desperate need to replace the fragile connection with raw, undeniable control. The raw, predatory desire he had been suppressing all night bled directly into his stare, overriding his brief restraint.
He took a slow, heavy step forward. His massive frame instantly closed the dangerous distance between them.
Caroline instinctively scrambled backward. Her bare heels slid against the smooth silk sheets. Her knees hit the hard wooden edge of the headboard. She was completely out of room.
Jarrod reached out. His left hand clamped down hard on her narrow waist, his right arm remaining rigid and motionless against his side. He yanked her forward with the strength of his one good arm.
Caroline’s body collided violently with his solid chest. Her breath left her lungs in a sharp rush.
𝗨p𝗱a𝘵eѕ 𝖾vеr𝗒 𝘄𝘦ek 𝗼𝘯 𝘨а𝘭ո𝘰𝘃𝖾𝗹s.𝘤о𝘮
He lowered his head. His hot, heavy breath washed over the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a violent, involuntary shiver straight down her spine.
Caroline’s heart hammered against her ribs like a machine gun. A deeply ingrained, heavily conditioned combat instinct instantly flooded her nervous system. Muscle memory fired across her shoulders and thighs. Her brain calculated in a fraction of a second three different lethal counter-maneuvers to disable his grip and drop him to the floor.
She forced her muscles to go completely limp. She swallowed the instinct to fight. If she actually executed that kind of lethal takedown on a highly trained military commander, the ordinary, unremarkable illusion she had worked so desperately to maintain would be permanently destroyed.
Jarrod’s mouth crashed down onto hers.
The gentleness from earlier was entirely consumed by a fierce, demanding need to claim. It wasn’t purely violent, but it was an absolute, aggressive invasion driven by a terrifying level of possessiveness. His lips parted hers with brutal force. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting of cedarwood and dark, suppressed hunger.
He pushed his weight forward. The force of his body shoved her backward.
Caroline fell flat against the dark gray mattress.
Jarrod followed her down instantly. His massive body covered hers, trapping her entirely beneath his shadow and his overwhelming scent. He braced his weight on his left forearm, the right side of his body held carefully still.
The expensive mattress sank deeply under their combined weight. The physical pressure of his chest pressing against her ribs made it incredibly difficult to breathe.
His left hand slid down from her waist. His calloused fingers traced the curve of her hip, radiating a heat that burned right through the thin cotton of the shirt.
Caroline’s brain flashed a bright red warning. The situation was escalating too fast. She needed to stop this immediately, but she also needed to test the absolute limit of his control. She needed to know if he would actually respect a hard boundary.
Jarrod’s fingers moved up. He grabbed the collar of the dark blue dress shirt she was wearing—his shirt. His left hand fisted the fabric at the center of her chest, his knuckles brushing against her collarbone.
Then, with a sudden, violent jerk of his left arm, he tore downward.
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