Empire of Hate: A Second Chance Enemies to Lovers Romance

“Didn’t you say he’ll be here at nine?”

I wince at the accusation in Jay’s tone, then pretend to check the huge Roman numeral clock on the wall. “I did.”

“Well, it’s three minutes past nine and he’s not here yet.”

“Flights can have delays, hon. And three minutes is hardly late.”

“Then call him, Nikki.” He shakes me by the hem of my dress, channeling the clingy four-year-old version of himself.

How to tell him that the thought of calling Daniel is no different than putting a finger in my mouth with the intention of throwing up?

I’ve been a bundle of nerves the past two days, thinking about the best lies to tell when he comes back.

There’s no way in hell I would bring up my screwed-up condition willingly. Not in this lifetime.

Two parts of me have been equally at war with each other concerning how to feel. A part of me wishes he wouldn’t come back anytime soon. But the other part is as eager as Jay, if not worse.

It doesn’t help that we stayed in his flat. Not only that, but my twisted cravings led me to his room late at night and I slept hugging his pillow that’s soaked with his scent.

And I might have touched myself to it too. I slid my fingers into my soaked knickers and pictured his face as I thrust in and out of my pussy. When I came, I cried into the pillow for being so irrevocably dysfunctional.

“He has his phone turned off inside the airport,” I lie through my teeth.

The thought of hearing Daniel’s voice makes me a nervous mess. I could barely talk to him about work-related things these past two days. Let’s say I’m thankful for the twelve-hour time difference.

“Can’t we go to the airport?”

“No, Jay. We can’t.” I release a breath. “Just go watch TV.”

He sulks as if I told him there will be no fish for a week, then hugs a fussing Lolli and throws himself on the sofa.

To give him credit, he really tries to stay awake by shaking his head and widening his eyes, but thirty minutes later, he’s out.

I cover him and Lolli, who’s sleeping on his leg. She whines and gives me the side-eye, drama-queen style, then goes back to her slumber.

“You miss him, too, huh?” I whisper to my brother, feeling a weight the size of a brick push off my chest.

I shouldn’t miss that damn jerk. Not when he’s made it his mission to turn my life into a colossal hell. But the emptiness I experienced these past two days are worse than a tomb’s silence.

With a sigh, I cover the food I made, then slip into his office. Another place where I can smell him.

Sometimes, a smell is enough. There needn’t be a touch or anything.

Just a smell.

One that’s composed of bergamot, lime, and maddening masculinity.

I would’ve gone to his bedroom, but I don’t want to get caught there if he comes in.

The space is large, clean, and has a vintage quality to it. The shelves and the desk are sturdy dark wood and the lounge area has one of those tall chesterfields that appears to be out of a historical show.

I get to organizing the files on his desk, even though there isn’t much of a mess. Then I move on to the drawers and pause when I open the first one.

My fingers tremble and my heart nearly spills at my feet.

I blink once, twice, unable to believe what the hell is in front of me.

The object doesn’t disappear.

My fingers shake as I wrap them around the smooth surface and lift it up.

This is not a dream.

Tiny glitters of fake snow jiggle around the girl, and my chest rattles just as hard.

I flip the snow globe, just in case it’s a lookalike, but the initials Papa had engraved at the bottom nearly send me weeping.

N. A.

But why?

Why would Daniel keep this snow globe…for twenty-one years? He clearly said he didn’t.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that he actually kept it.

“Picked up a snooping habit, I see.”

My head jerks up and my throat closes.

Daniel stands in the entryway like a dark warrior in a dashing navy blue suit.

The clashing color of his clothes with his eyes would’ve been mesmerizing if he weren’t in the process of eating me alive with those eyes.

Tearing me to pieces.

Scrutinizing every part.

“Why…” My voice is an airy breath and I swallow in a helpless attempt to speak properly. “Why do you have this?”

He strides to me in a few quick steps, erasing the distance between us along with any semblance of sanity I was holding on to with chopped off, bloodied fingers.

Daniel grabs the snow globe, but I don’t release it, so it remains suspended between us.

“When I thought I lost it back then, I asked you if you’ve seen it and you said you threw it away. You told me to get over myself because this thing meant nothing.”

“It doesn’t.” The icy coldness of his tone doesn’t fool me anymore. I’m starting to think he uses it as a camouflage for something much deeper.

“If it means nothing, you wouldn’t have kept it for twenty-one years, Daniel.”

“It must’ve ended up with the rubbish.”

“Bullshit.” I square my shoulders.

“You might want to watch your language if you want to win the Prude of the Year award.”

“You’re not changing the subject.” My lips tremble. “Tell me why you still have this? Why did you lie about throwing it away?”

He purses his lips and a muscle tics in his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Did you lie about other things?” My voice is broken, thick with too many emotions. “Are there other lies I need to know about?”

“Let’s start with yours first.” He pulls the snow globe from between my fingers, throws it in the drawer, and slams it shut.

Then his big, hot hands wrap around my waist and the world slips from beneath my feet. He’s lifting me up, I realize, but before I can react, my butt meets the solid surface of the desk.

“W-what is this?”

“I specifically mentioned I was going to need answers when I got back. Start talking.”

My palms find his shoulders and I push, but I might as well be attempting to move a building. “Why do you want to know?”

“Don’t concern your smart brain with that. All you have to do is spit out the reason you acted that way when I touched you.”

I stare to the side. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Maybe I don’t fucking care about what you want.” His fingers dig into my sides. “Now look at me and speak. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

I don’t think about what I do next.

Although, I probably should’ve.

I came up with a million lies to tell him, but as I look at his face, I can’t utter any one of them.

So I move on to something else.

Distraction.

Using my hold on his jacket, I pull him close and slam my lips to his. It’s just that at first, my mouth on his in the silence of the office.

Then a growl echoes in the air. His.

My thoughts scatter and wither into nothingness as one of his palms forcefully grabs my nape and the other remains on my waist. Big, warm, and…safe.

It’s the last thought I should have about this situation or him, but it’s there, in the back of my screwed-up mind—this is safe.

Completely and utterly safe.

He kisses me slowly as if, like me, he doesn’t believe this is happening.

After years.

Eleven, to be exact, but who’s counting, right?

I try to be in control, I really do. I’m the one who started this and it should be on my terms and mine alone. So I keep my lips shut.

“Let. Me. In.” He accentuates every word with a bite against my lower lip and when I don’t comply, he traps the sensitive skin between his teeth and bites down so hard, I’m surprised there’s no blood. “Fucking. Open.”

My mouth parts with a whimper and he uses the chance to thrust his tongue inside. My insides liquefy at the raw passion and unapologetic strength he holds me with.

He kisses me like he wants to ruin me and worship my body at the same time. He kisses me like I’m his arch-enemy and only friend.

My head swims with the conundrums, and it blurs the signs of the panic attack I usually get under similar circumstances.

His tongue toys with mine, licks it, and renders it completely helpless. A moan reverberates in the air and I’m not sure if it’s his or mine.

I’m not even sure what I’m doing anymore. I only meant to shut him up, but it’s turning into so much more.

It’s turning into something I can’t stop or control, not even if I wanted to.

My legs part wide when he settles between them, and that causes the arousal I’ve been helplessly reining in to smear my core.

At first, I don’t put two and two together, but then I sense the emptiness of his hand on my waist. Not long after, two long, calloused fingers trace the line of my underwear. They slip beneath the fabric, teasing my clit, then thrust in my opening.

All in one go.

I gasp against his mouth, my stomach clenching. Despite the pleasure, despite the sloppy sound of the in and out of his fingers, I feel like throwing up.

No, not only feel. I am going to throw up.

I wrench my swollen, battered lips away from his and grab his wrist over my dress, causing his hand to stop.

The shake of my head is as frantic as what he must see in my unfocused eyes. “D-Daniel…”

“What?” There’s a cutting darkness in his tone, a challenge that he’s baiting me to take. “If you want me to stop, tell me why.”

“Why would you care? Why do you even want me?”

“Why would I even want you? Isn’t that the million-dollar question? I don’t fucking know, Nicole. I don’t know why you’re the only woman I see despite having hundreds at my disposal. I don’t know why I’m blind to them and not you. Never you. Did you put some bewitching mojo in my food?”

A tear slides down my cheek. “You’d rather be bewitched than admit you want me?”

“And you prefer hiding over wanting me back.” He curls his fingers inside me and darts his tongue to lick the tear from my eye to my cheek, then he bites the droplet that got stuck on my lip.

My grip loosens on his wrist and he takes it as an invitation. Daniel thrusts his fingers inside my pussy hard, fast, and couples them with sliding his thumb back and forth on my clit.

The pleasure is so strong that my hips jerk and I ride his fingers, my lips pressed in a line and my eyes rolling back.

When the orgasm hits me, it’s as intense as his touch. As damning, too, because I can’t stop releasing sounds that I usually muffle with the back of my hand. I can’t now, because he’s licking my face, nibbling on my lips, and tasting the pleasure he triggered off my skin.

He releases my neck and unzips his trousers to free his cock. I’m mildly aware of it, but I only feel it when he slides out his fingers and replaces them with his cock with one brutal thrust.

I scream as the still fresh orgasm bleeds into another one. It’s much stronger this time and my eyes slam shut.

Blurry gray images form behind my eyelids like vengeful shadows. Drops of black ink stain my vision.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The stench of cigarettes and weed suffocates me. The violence they promise condenses in the distance like distorted lines.

It’s pain now.

Raw pain.

And I can’t say anything, because it’s my fault. I started this.

I deserve the pain.

The panic attacks.

The sleeping paralysis. All of it.

Please don’t hurt me…

It stops then. The sensation of being trapped. He’s not thrusting inside me.

He stopped.

It’s over.

“Peaches…”

My eyes slowly open to find Daniel staring at me with a furrow in his brow.

We’re still joined, his cock filling me until I can no longer tell where he starts and I begin.

It’s Daniel.

Daniel.

I don’t know why I want to cry from both frustration and joy.

“You think I would ever hurt you?”

“W-what?”

“You said ‘please don’t hurt me’ just now.”

Shit. I spoke that out loud?

“Say it, Nicole. Am I hurting you?”

I slowly shake my head.

“Then why did you beg me not to just now?”

I wasn’t talking to you, but I can’t say that and expose how much of a freak I actually am.

So I use my earlier tactic and kiss him. I’m more aggressive this time, biting his lips and tasting him on my tongue.

He tastes of peaches and impossible addictions. Logically, he shouldn’t. Logically, he’s not supposed to be a replica of my lollipops and my coping mechanisms.

But I welcome it anyway.

I need to be anchored in this moment. To Daniel and his mythical eyes and euphoric touch. I can’t allow the shadows to creep in again.

Daniel pulls out a little, then drives back in, hitting my G-spot. I shake with the force of his thrusts and moan against his mouth.

My eyes get droopy once more and I can feel myself slipping into that other realm.

A hot hand grips my nape, squeezing the side of my throat. “Eyes on me when I fuck you.”

My pulse skyrockets as I let Daniel’s eyes trap mine. They’re full of stars, galaxies, and planets.

They’re otherworldly, overwhelming even, but they’re also safe.

The safest thing on earth.

Even if I could only look at them from afar.

Even if being too close may blind me.

Both my palms find his cheeks and I stare at his face as he fucks me deeper, taking his time to hit that pleasurable spot over and over.

By the time he ups his rhythm, I’m on the brink again. A wordless gasp shapes my lips and he devours my mouth as he pulls out of me and I feel his thighs quivering against mine.

My mind is hazy as I stare down and see him coming all over his hands. His cum smears my clothes and his before dripping on the ground.

It’s then I realize he actually fucked me without a condom. Shit. If he wasn’t thinking straight and pulled out at the last second, we’d have more complications on our hands.

And why the hell am I disappointed about that?

Wake the hell up, Nicole. You had unprotected sex with a womanizer and you’re disappointed he pulled out?

I release his face, frantic to disappear from his vicinity. Maybe I can dig a hole and hide in it for the foreseeable future.

It was only a kiss. Just how the hell did it end up being mind-blowing sex?

Daniel grabs my chin with his hand that’s still coated in cum, aborting my mission. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Aren’t we done?”

“We haven’t even gotten started.” He smears his cum on my parted lips, then thrusts two fingers inside like he did the other day. “I’m going to fuck you again, once in the shower and once on my bed, and then…you will tell me all about the fucking skeletons you’re hiding in your closet.”