Bella entered her room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She leaned against it for a second, sighing, her lips still curved from the laughter downstairs. Tonight had been perfect so far—her family, her friends, the crazy gang, all under one roof.
She stepped toward her vanity, reaching to unclasp her earrings, when a firm hand suddenly seized her wrist.
Before she could react, she was yanked backward and slammed gently—but firmly—against the wall. Her breath hitched as her back pressed against the cold surface, her pulse hammering in her throat.
Her eyes squeezed shut in instinctive fear, but then…
"Bella," a low, husky voice murmured.
Her lashes fluttered open.
Her heart lurched.
Sebastian Whitmore stood inches away, his storm-grey eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her whole body stiffen. His breath ghosted over her skin, hot and dangerous. His jaw clenched, lips set in a hard line that barely masked the storm raging beneath.
For a moment, she froze. Then anger surged.
"What the hell are you doing in my room, Mr. Whitmore?" she hissed, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowing.
Sebastian's gaze darkened further. He leaned closer, so close that his nose almost brushed hers. His voice dropped to a whisper—deep, commanding, possessive.
"Don't call me that," he growled softly. "Say my name. Say Sebastian."
Bella's chest rose and fell with quick breaths. Her fury boiled, replacing the flicker of unease with fire. She shoved against him, hard enough that he straightened a fraction—but his grip on her wrist didn't loosen.
Her voice came out like venom. "I asked you a question. What are you doing here? And let. Me. Go."
His lips curved into a smirk, sharp and dangerous, like a predator toying with its prey. With one tug, he pulled her closer, their bodies just shy of touching. Her pulse throbbed wildly at her throat, but her glare stayed locked on his.
"Don't you remember me?" he asked, his tone smooth yet laced with a possessive edge.
Bella frowned, confusion flashing in her eyes. "What are you talking about, Mr Whitmore?"
The smirk faded. His face hardened, the storm in his eyes swirling darker. "So… you've forgotten."
She blinked, her brows furrowing deeper. "We met today, Mr Whitmore. So where the hell does 'forgetting you' even come from?"
He leaned in, his lips brushing dangerously close to her ear as he whispered, his voice thick with dominance and unrestrained emotion.
"Call me Sebastian," he repeated, his tone like a command, his jealousy seeping through every syllable. "You can laugh with them, hug them, even kiss their cheeks… but you'll only ever say my name this way."
Bella's eyes widened at the sheer intensity in his words. For a heartbeat, the room was charged with something electric—possession meeting defiance, fury colliding with longing.
Her wrist burned under his hold, her skin tingling where his fingers pressed. Her heart told her she should push him away harder, scream if she had to. But her body betrayed her, caught in the storm of his nearness.
Finally, she met his gaze, her own eyes spitting fire as she shoved Sebastian with every ounce of strength she had. This time, he staggered a half-step back, leaving a single arm's distance between them.
Her voice sliced the heavy silence.
"What are you doing in my room? And if you came here just to order me to call you Sebastian—then I'm really sorry, because I do what I feel like. No one, no one, gets to rule me, Mr. Whitmore."
Sebastian's lips curved into that slow, infuriating smirk—the kind that made her blood boil. His storm-grey eyes glittered with something dark, dangerous, and unshakable.
"Stubborn, huh?" he murmured, his voice low and velvety, laced with possession. "I like it. And I'm not just here to wish you, my girl… I'm here to warn you."
Bella's brows furrowed. Her anger collided with confusion.
"You already wished me. Warn me about what?"
Sebastian stepped forward, his shoes echoing on the polished wooden floor. Instinctively, she stepped backward, until her spine hit the cold wall.
Her chest rose and fell quickly, her throat dry. "What are you doing, Mr. Whitmore?" she whispered, breath hitching as his shadow fell over her.
He chuckled darkly, leaning down until his lips nearly brushed her ear.
"Do you remember the first time I came this close to you? You asked me the exact same question."
Bella frowned, her eyes narrowing, confusion turning into fire. "This is the first time you've ever dared to come close to me. Now leave. I don't like it."
Sebastian tilted his head, smirk deepening, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
"But I'm loving it."
Her heart stuttered at the raw hunger in his tone. For a heartbeat, she froze. But she quickly gathered her courage, shoving against his chest again. This time, he didn't budge—his body was unyielding, a wall of strength against her smaller frame.
His hand slid, bold and possessive, to her waist. Fingers splayed firmly, he tugged her forward until her body pressed against his. Bella gasped, her palms bracing against his chest, but the contact only made her pulse race faster.
"Sebastian—" her voice trembled.
He silenced her by leaning in, lips grazing the shell of her ear. His teeth caught her earlobe, biting lightly before his husky whisper sent shivers shooting down her spine.
"I didn't wish you properly. Tonight, I'll do it my way."
Bella's knees weakened, butterflies erupting violently in her stomach against her will. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment—her body betraying her even as her mind screamed to push him away. His touch burned against her waist, setting her nerves alight with sensations she didn't understand, didn't want to feel.
Sebastian nuzzled her cheek, sliding to her jawline, where he placed a slow, possessive kiss. Her body shivered under the gentle assault, and his smirk grew against her skin as he felt her reaction.
"You feel it too," he murmured against her jaw.
That was the breaking point.
With every ounce of strength left in her, Bella shoved him hard and rasped, her voice thick with fury and trembling indignation, "What the hell are you doing? Just get out!"
Sebastian's smirk didn't falter. In fact, it widened, dark and dangerous.
"I was just wishing you, Bella. But you stopped me halfway."
Her eyes burned as she glared at him, her chest rising and falling sharply.
"I don't need your wishes. Just leave."
He chuckled low, a deep, mocking sound that curled through the room like smoke.
"One day… you'll beg for my touch, Bella Harrison. But for now, let's talk about something serious."
The teasing smirk dropped, replaced by sharp intensity. His storm-grey gaze pinned her to the spot, unblinking and commanding.
"I don't know if you truly don't remember me—or if you're pretending. You were just a small girl back then, so maybe it's fair. But hear me, and hear me loud…" His grip on her waist tightened, his voice dangerous, final.
"You. Are. Mine. Just mine. And if you don't want to see your darling Jack broken, stay the hell away from him."
Her whole body flamed with anger. Bella glared at him, eyes blazing, her words spit like venom.
"Who the hell are you to order me? And don't you dare speak a word against Jack. I'm not some thing you can declare as yours. I love Jack. And I will—"
Her words froze on her tongue.
Because suddenly, his mouth was on hers.
Her eyes flew wide. Shock flooded her as Sebastian's lips crashed against hers, fierce and unrelenting. His kiss was not gentle—it was a storm, pouring years of anger, jealousy, and craving into her.
Bella pushed at his chest desperately, but his hold was iron, his hand gripping her waist tighter as his other hand tangled in her hair. He bit her lower lip, harsh, almost punishing, and she gasped against him—giving him the chance to deepen the kiss. But he didn't deepen the kiss sucked her lips harder making her difficult to breath.
Her fists pounded his chest, but it was useless. His dominance drowned her struggles.
Her lips stung as he bit down harder, drawing blood. He didn't stop—instead, he sucked at the wound, groaning low as if savoring the taste. The kiss was violent, consuming, a battle she was losing second by second.
Finally, he pulled back, his lips red with her blood, his breathing ragged.
Bella collapsed weakly, her knees buckling, but his arm snaked around her waist, yanking her upright again so she was forced to face him.
Tears of anger and humiliation pricked her eyes, but her gaze met his—storm meeting fire.
And on his lips… that same wicked smirk.
"I've been craving those glossy, juicy lips for years," Sebastian whispered, voice low, dangerous, laced with obsession. "They're even tastier than I imagined. Next time, Bella… next time, I'll explore every inch of your sweet mouth."