Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 635

Clara’s eyes flashed with disbelief. After Dylan tossed her onto the narrow cot at the back of the van, her face went paper-white. “Dylan, are you out of your mind?”

The van felt almost like an RV, just lower to the ground. The tiny bed at the rear took up a third of the cramped space. Dylan’s suit was a mess, his usual careful appearance in total disarray. Clara could feel the storm of emotion rolling off him. She struggled hard, but the silk tie around her wrists was too sturdy, biting into her skin and leaving angry red marks.

She took a shaky breath, ready to say something, but Dylan was already there—one knee on the mattress, grabbing her wrist with one hand, his other hand moving lower. Clara had been through enough shocks that day, but when she realized what he meant to do, it was something beyond shock. His lips crashed against hers, and her mind went completely blank.

“You…”

She had no idea what to say. Her face lost all color, turning paler by the second.

He leaned over her, his knee wedged firmly between her legs, exuding a kind of force she’d never seen from him before. There was a smear of blood on her lip. She stared at the swelling on Dylan’s cheek, unable to look away.

This wasn’t the Dylan she knew—he was wild, reckless, nothing like the calm, untouchable man from before. Bracing himself above her, he asked, low and rough, “Did you really think I wouldn’t get mad?”

Clara’s palms were drenched with sweat. She could feel cold dampness trickling down her back. The sensation of being dragged into a bottomless pit was stronger than ever, threatening to swallow her whole. She bit her lip, and when the panic faded, it felt like her soul had been shattered into pieces.

Dylan’s eyes dropped to her wrists, noticing the red marks left by the tie. His lashes hesitated, and then his fingers gently, almost awkwardly, traced the angry lines. Clara flinched away, still rattled by the whiplash of his mood.

His hand hovered in the air for a moment before he slowly sat at the edge of the bed. For a second, it felt like both of them had calmed down.

Clara sat up, scooting as far away from him as she could—right into the farthest corner of the mattress. Her mouth throbbed with pain, but her gaze stayed locked on Dylan, as if she was searching for the man she used to know. But with the way he looked at her, she couldn’t see a trace of the old Dylan.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify