Chapter 78 Borrowed

Zhavia was speechless. If she was told that a day would come when she would be kidnapped and feel helpless over a man she would never believe it. Her eyes roamed around the room as they strolled to the large portrait that filled that corner of the wall. She was dumbstruck. She suddenly realized where she was.

Fuck!

I am in the den of Nicholas Alviero Ross.

"Did you kidnap me?" Zhavia asked still with no expression on her face.

"Borrowed". He corrected. There was no expression on his face either. In fact, he looked paler than usual. His eyes were still on her. They had never left her since she got here. All he sees and all his attention were on his goddess.

"What?" She was confused. She didn't understand. She couldn't find the words to use. He freaking took her unaware. He stroke when she let her guard down when she thought he was no longer in control of her surging desire.

He spoke with so much calmness. There was something about this tone he was using that almost made her lose control. She almost sold herself when that moan almost escaped her mouth. She resisted the urge to bite her lips.

Focus zhavia, you're kidnapped.

She wasn't even scared. She was just baffled. This man brought out so many emotions she didn't know still existed in her.

"Get some rest now, we don't want you having an ache in your head later on, do we?"

He stood up and started walking out of the room. He came to a halt when spoke finally before he left the room.

"When the drug wears out, we can have a chat". His steps were swift. In the twinkling of an eye, he was out of the room. Zhavia only stared at him. She couldn't believe it. 

On drugs? Is she on drugs?

No wonder she feels different. These naughty thoughts that had been going on in her head were also obviously caused by the drugs too.

No one, but no one had ever made her feel so fragile before. Even the previous men she had been with had never commanded or told her what to do. She always gave the orders and detected what she wanted.

She was never a woman to surrender. She was never a woman to listen to orders. Why does he have so much effect on her? Why does he always leave her weak? Why was she always affected in ways she couldn't explain?

Her head was spinning and her heart was racing as if she had just run a marathon. She tried to compose herself as her eyes strolled back to the portrait of him hanging boldly on the wall.

He is beautiful.

He looked like a god. He wasn't in the room but his scent intoxicated her so badly. It was as if he was the drug. All she saw was him. He was all she thought of. She smelled him, and suddenly she longed for him.

A taste.

She wanted a taste of him.

Fuck it she wanted him.