I Told You To Run But You Didn't (Georgia) novel Chapter 66

Chapter 66

1.89%

29

Finished

Georgia’s POV

Estevan chose that precise moment to start moving again, a slow rocking that sent a jolt straight through me. I couldn’t help it. A soft, betraying moan escaped my lips, right into the phone’s microphone.

The frantic voice on the other end stopped cold. There was a beat of stunned silence.

Then, cautiously, full of suspicion and dawning horror, Lucas asked, “Gia?””

Before I could even stammer out a reply, Estevan snatched the phone from my hand.

His eyes, burning with a dark, possessive fire, held mine as he calmly pressed the ‘end call’ button, silencing Lucas mid-word. He tossed the phone onto the nightstand as if it were trash.

“No interruptions,” he growled, his voice a low, rough command.

And then he started moving again, reclaiming my body with a fierce, almost punishing intensity. He didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. It felt like he was branding me, marking me as his with every deep, relentless thrust.

My mind shut down, overwhelmed by the physical onslaught. All I could feel was him – inside me, around me, consuming me.

I vaguely registered crying out his name, maybe begging him to stop, maybe begging him for more, I didn’t know anymore. It was just sensation, raw and overwhelming, until finally, mercifully, darkness claimed me.

God damn it, was my last coherent thought. This man is a fucking monster. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word tired.

When I woke up, sunlight was streaming through the cheap motel curtains, dust motes dancing in the beams.

My body felt heavy, bruised, and incredibly sore. Every muscle ached. I groaned, shifting slightly, and the movement sent a sharp twinge through my inner thighs

I wasn’t alone. Estevan was sitting in the room’s only archair, fully dressed in fresh clothes, watching me.

His usual mask of cool control was back in place, but his eyes… they held a different kind of intensity now.

They weren’t just assessing; they were possessing. His gaze drifted slowly over my exposed shoulder, down my arm, lingering on the faint marks and bruises blooming on my skin – his marks.

There was a look of dark, satisfied ownership on his fac that made my stomach clench.

I immediately yanked the thin blanket up to my chin, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his possessive

stare.

I pushed myself up, intending to get out of that bed, ou of that room, but the moment my feet hit the floor, my legs buckled. A sharp, deep ache shot through my core, and I nearly collapsed.

Damn it. I grabbed onto the nightstand for support, biting back a whimper. I felt completely wrecked. 1 couldn’t even walk properly!

“Need help?”

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10:37 Tue, Mar 10 M M

Chapter 66

89%

* Finished

“Why are you still here?” I snapped, clutching the blanket tighter. “You got what you wanted. The debt is paid. Isn’t it?”

He sighed, pushing himself out of the armchair. He walked towards the window, looking out at the quiet street below. “Georgia,” he said, his voice surprisingly cam, almost weary. “Contrary to what you might believe, I don’t typically abandon women I’ve just… spent the night with, especially not in a strange town while they can barely walk.” He glanced back at me, a trace of something unreadable in his eyes. “I’m not that kind of bastard.”

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air before delivering the next blow. “And speaking of bastards… your ex-husband is downstairs. In the lobby. Making quite a scene, apparently. Looking for you.”

My blood ran cold. Lucas? Here? Now? How?!

Estevan turned fully to face me, his expression grim. “He must have followed you from the city, or tracked your phone before you blocked him. Either way, he’s here.” He ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of frustration. “Which means we have a rather awkward situation to explain to Louiella when we eventually get back to the house.”

Lucas. My ex-husband. He’s in this tiny town. Looking for me.

Damn it. This nightmare just kept getting worse.

I took the longest, hottest shower I possibly could, trying to soothe my aching muscles and wash away the lingering scent of him, of us.

When I finally stepped out, wrapped tightly in the thin hotel robe, Estevan had somehow managed to conjure breakfast. Plates laden with eggs, bacon, toast, and fresh fruit sat on the small, rickety table near the window.

He was sitting there, nursing a cup of coffee, looking infuriatingly fresh and put-together. He gestured towards the food. “Eat,” he said, his voice neutral. “You need the energy.” He paused, “We both do. Especially if you plan on fighting with me again today.”

We ate in a heavy, awkward silence. Every muscle in my body protested when I moved. It was a constant, humiliating reminder of the night before, of how completely I had lost control.

The air between us crackled with unspoken tension. He had taken something from me, something I hadn’t even known I valued until it was gone. And the worst part? I had let him. I had wanted him.

The shame of that realization was almost as painful as the soreness between my legs.

This means nothing, I told myself fiercely. It was a transaction. Payment rendered. I had to make that clear. To him, and maybe more importantly, to myself.

After pushing the food around my plate, I took a deep breath and slid the ridiculously large diamond ring off my finger. I placed it firmly on the table between us.

“Here,” I said, my voice tight. “You can have this back. The show’s over.”

He didn’t even glance at the ring. He just took another sp of his coffee, watching me over the rim of the cup. Then, he reached across the table, picked up the rig, took my left hand, and slid it firmly back onto my finger.

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