The days following their night together were a blur, a chaotic mix of emotions that Ana didn't know how to process. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Hayden. Every time she breathed, she could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on her, the heat of his body seared into her skin. It was as though he had invaded every part of her, and there was no escape.
She hated herself for wanting him again, for craving him in a way that made her feel like she was losing control. But the truth was, Hayden had always been in control. And it terrified her that she was beginning to fall under that control willingly.
Ana stared at herself in the mirror, her hands running over the delicate fabric of the dress she had chosen for the evening. She had to remind herself that this wasn't real. That none of this was real. Hayden's world, his power, his desires—they were not meant for someone like her.
But there was a small voice inside her, one she hated to admit existed, that told her she was lying to herself. That voice whispered that she was falling deeper and deeper into his trap—and worse, that part of her didn't mind.
She had tried to ignore the growing attraction, the insatiable pull between them, but it was impossible. Every time she saw him, every time they spoke, she felt like she was sinking further. And when their eyes met across a crowded room or when his touch grazed her skin, it was like a flame being fanned.
She had convinced herself that it was a mistake, that she could walk away from him, from this dangerous game they were playing. But the truth was, Ana didn't know if she wanted to walk away anymore.
She had been avoiding him as much as possible, keeping her distance, but Hayden wouldn't let her. His presence was constant, like a storm that followed her, never relenting, never letting her forget him.
When he appeared at her door that evening, she wasn't surprised. She should have been, but she wasn't.
"You're late," she said, her voice flat as she turned from the mirror to face him. There was no anger in her tone, only resignation.
Hayden stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that sent a shiver down her spine. He looked every bit the dangerous man he was—dark, imposing, his eyes as cold as ice, but with a simmering heat beneath the surface.
"I wasn't late," he said, his voice deep and controlled. "You just weren't ready."
Ana narrowed her eyes, refusing to let him see how much his presence affected her. She stood tall, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to maintain some semblance of control over the situation.
"I don't need you to babysit me, Hayden," she said, her voice steady, though it was laced with a bitterness she hadn't meant to show.
He took a step toward her, his movements slow and deliberate. There was something predatory in the way he approached her, and Ana felt her heart race, her pulse quicken despite herself.
"You think I'm here to babysit?" His voice dropped an octave, becoming dark, dangerous. "I don't *do* babysitting, Ana. I never have."
He was right, of course. Hayden didn't do anything without a purpose, without claiming it as his own. And she was starting to understand that she was no exception.
Ana swallowed hard, but her body betrayed her as she took a step back, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "What do you want, Hayden?"
His eyes locked onto hers, and the air between them seemed to crackle with an almost palpable tension. He reached out and grabbed her wrist with a force that was unexpected, pulling her closer until their faces were inches apart.
"I want you," he murmured, his voice low and filled with something she couldn't quite place. "I want you more than you'll ever understand. And you know it."
Ana's breath hitched, her heart hammering in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words got caught in her throat. She couldn't deny it. The attraction was still there, burning between them, but it was more than that. There was something deeper, darker, a pull that had ensnared her in ways she couldn't explain.
His fingers trailed down her arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When he touched her, it was like he had the power to bend her to his will, to make her feel things she had never wanted to feel.
"I don't want to be just another conquest for you, Hayden," she said, her voice trembling despite herself. "I'm not just a prize to be won."
He laughed, but it was not a laugh of amusement. It was a low, dangerous sound that made her blood run cold. "You think you have a choice in this?"
His words were a challenge, but they were also a warning. He was claiming her again, marking her as his own, and she didn't know if she could fight it anymore. She didn't know if she wanted to.
"I don't care what you think you want," Hayden continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "What matters is that you're mine. Whether you like it or not."
The declaration hit her like a blow, but there was something in it that sent a thrill through her veins. She hated how much she wanted him, how much she was starting to need him. Every part of her screamed to walk away, to find her independence, to not let him control her, but the other part of her—the part that had always been drawn to him—couldn't stop herself.
"You think you're in control, but you're not," she said, her voice strained, but there was no conviction behind the words. She was trying to convince herself more than anything else.
Hayden didn't say anything. Instead, he moved closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You're right about one thing—you're not in control. Not anymore."
With that, he pulled her toward him, his lips crashing onto hers in a kiss that was fierce, demanding. It was everything she had been trying to deny, and yet everything she had been craving. His mouth moved over hers with a hunger that left her breathless, her body responding to him in ways she couldn't control.
Ana tried to pull away, but it was useless. He had her. And she hated herself for the way she was responding to him, for the way he made her feel things she wasn't ready for.
But the truth was, she didn't want to walk away anymore. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her, even if it meant losing herself in the process.