I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 475

I knew Steven would make things difficult for me; I was prepared for it. A kiss on the cheek was acceptable.

Without a second thought, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Let them go."

Steven's deep eyes narrowed slightly. "I said identical."

"It was identical," I stared at him coldly. "You saw it that day, didn't you?"

Steven's expression shifted, the coldness around him instantly thawing. He suddenly cupped the back of my neck, forcing my head down as a pair of cool, soft lips pressed against mine.

His other hand clamped around my waist, preventing any resistance.

Trapped in his forceful embrace, I couldn't struggle. The moment his lips met mine, my hands instinctively pushed against him, trying to pull away. But his grip was unyielding; the slightest movement from me only made him hold me tighter, almost brutally. After a moment, I stopped fighting.

Since I had come here, I was prepared. This whole mess started with me, and it was up to me to end it.

There were other options, of course. I could ask my brother for help, or Uncle Julian, or even one of Steven's rivals. Someone could stand up to him. But I needed a fast solution. No one could afford to wait. Going to Steven was the quickest way.

Sensing my compliance, Steven's kiss deepened, his tongue parting my lips to tangle with mine. My hands clenched his shirt, and I let him take what he wanted.

As if that wasn't enough, he suddenly lifted me up, and I found myself sitting on his lap. His breathing was heavier than mine. His long fingers threaded through my hair, a gesture that felt both tender and possessive, while his kiss remained fierce, moving from my lips to the corner of my mouth, my chin, my neck.

His physical reaction was strong.

Alarm bells suddenly screamed in my head. I couldn't go through with this. I pushed him away. Steven stared at me, his eyes, hot with unsated desire, filled with a predatory intensity that was uniquely his.

My face remained cold. "Let them go."

His perfectly pressed shirt was now a wrinkled mess from my grip. He stared at me intently, and when he finally spoke, his voice was unnervingly hoarse.

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