Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle had a whirlwind of questions swirling in her head. Would Max have really gotten. engaged if she hadn’t shown up? Did he truly suffer from amnesia?

But at that moment, she couldn’t muster a single word. Her thoughts were in disarray, utterly swept up by his advances.

By the time she regained her bearings, she found herself being ushered into a secluded lounge at the end of the hallway.

“What are we–mmph.”

His familiar scent, his towering height, and even his gestures were all too known to her. It was as if fireworks were exploding in her mind, and she felt as though a predator was closing in from behind.

“Brielle, I don’t want to think about anything else right now.”

Max was Impassioned, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile at the memory of her appearing at the door.

Explanations could wait.

The atmosphere and temperature collided, warping both space and time. Their deep kiss. ended.

Max rested his forehead against her shoulder; Brielle was quite a bit shorter than him, so this gesture had him slightly hunched over, as if bowing in submission to the petite woman in his

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Brielle could feel his intimidating warmth and blushed, realizing that now was not the time for questions. She turned her head slightly, silently consenting to his next move.

With her acquiescence, Max seemed to have unleashed the contents of Pandora’s box.

Brielle bit her lip, her eyes rimmed red, feeling almost melted by his heat, breathless at last. There was no time to ponder the hows and whys, only the ceaseless burst of fireworks in her mind.

Max was right there with her, not engaged to someone else, still tenderly kissing her. And that was more than enough. She felt an overwhelming flutter in her heart.

Even the thought that members of the Dorsey, Barnes, and Rowland families were close by added a thrilling mix of shame and excitement.

The temperature in the room seemed to be nearing a boiling point, her body’s moisture evaporating. Her cheeks were flushed, and she often felt like a fish dying of thirst, thrown onto the shore by a violent storm, only to be swept back into the sea by another wave. The sensation of almost drowning, then gasping for air, was maddening.

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She even wondered if the door might give way under the pressure.

In her daze, his long fingers grasped her chin. Seeing her reflection in the door’s polished surface, Brielle felt her toes curl. “Max, if I hadn’t come, would you really have gone through with the engagement?”

Max’s chin rested on her shoulder, and he chuckled softly, “No.” His tone was lazy and satisfied, yet he didn’t stop, turning his head to plant a kiss on her earlobe. It was like a miraculous chemical reaction.

Who was it that said love was the most violent poison that unsettled the soul, that love signified an insatiable greed?

The intensity of this moment, the fulfillment, and the extraordinary reactions were like picnicking on the edge of an abyss, utterly oblivious to the peril.

The fierce beast within Brielle’s heart. The lover at her back.

Brielle slowly closed her eyes, a fine sheen of sweat beading on her forehead.

At seven in the morning, Brielle was completely drained. She weakly tried to push Max away with her eyes closed.

Max caught her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Tired?”

Of course, she was exhausted; she couldn’t even speak. Yet, she had so many questions. Her heart was aching with a bittersweetness that was both tart and sweet, but she was too weary to hold on any longer and slowly drifted off to sleep. Her body felt battered and bruised from head to toe, a patchwork of tenderness.