All Chapters of HIS TO CONQUER : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The mere fact that Gavin had actually said the words ‘sorry’ had stopped me dead in my tracks. Gavin’s voice.. it wasn’t the usual sharp, almost forced apology he usually offered. This was… different. Genuine. But my back was still to him, I don’t want to look cheap and turn to face him right away. “Aren’t you going to turn around to face me?” he asked, the words laced with a hint of what sounded like vulnerability?“Talk from there. I can hear you clearly,” I bit out, trying to keep the edge in my voice.I heard him hiss, then I heard his footsteps, quick and determined, closing the distance between us. Before I knew it, he was there, his hand on my shoulder, turning me to face him. His eyes they held a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite decipher. He wasn’t looking away, like he usually did when things got difficult. He was meeting my gaze, his expression intense.“I’m… I’m not good at this,” he started, his voice rough around the edges. “Apologizing. I wanted to… to show

We stood up immediately he entered into the outer office to greet him. Mr Miller was such a man of charisma. Imposing was an understatement when it comes to this business giant. But his eyes were dark and sharp, utterly devoid of any form of warmth. His gaze rested on me as he scanned me up and down."Mr Miller, good afternoon sir," I said, my voice steady and respectful. It had to be. This wasn't the time for anything less."Logan," he replied, the single word clipped. No pleasantries at all, no ‘How are you?’ Just my name, delivered like a pronouncement. He gestured towards the uncomfortable looking leather chairs without another word, his gaze already moving past us, focused on something only he could see.I cleared my throat, settling into the chair. It felt like sitting on a block of ice and I moved so stiffly. Peter mirrored my movement, his own unease and discomfort so visible. Mr Miller didn't waste any time as he sat behind his massive desk, the polished surface reflec

“I want to be inside you so badly,” he murmured against my ears, “Will you let me?”My mind went blank for a split second there. That was one sexy way of saying ‘I want to fuck you senseless’ and it made me flush so red that my cheeks looked like they were on fire.But my emotions were mixed up in a stupid jar that I couldn’t pick which exactly I was feeling. The excitement was sharp and insistent, but it battled with a deep seated fear in my mind. Fear of pain, fear of… everything. Honestly speaking, I had been curious like a little kitten so I had looked up and watched videos explaining well...this topic. It was definitely a pathetic attempt to prepare myself for something I had never truly imagined happening. But videos were just mere videos. They didn’t show the vulnerability, the intimacy, the sheer terror of laying yourself bare, physically and emotionally, to another person completely.I couldn't meet his gaze and the cramped space of the car suddenly felt more suffocatin

The so called charity event continued and my baby...Gavin still wasn’t here. I actually wanted to call him and ask if he was actually going to come like Bryce had said, but I was too nonchalant for that. I enjoyed being pursued by him and I knew..I knew if I ever...if tables turn, I would be so desperate for him.I was used to getting attention since I was a kid. But no one has ever made me feel this type of way before. Of course he’s aggressive and he gets on my nerves, but he’s the only one who can get me to touch myself and moan out loud. I wasn’t going to admit that though. So I tucked my phone back in my pocket as Peter kept exchanging flirtatious glances at the guests and even the servers. Ugh! A small crowd began to gather near a makeshift stage where a velvet draped easel stood just right at the centre. The charity auction was about to begin. They were a lot of paintings on display that belonged to renowned artist. Call me none artistic, but most of these so called masterpie

~ Gavin’s POV ~I let my mind wander aimlessly as the wind whips through my hair. I held onto the balcony railing tightly with one hand, as it’s cold surface digs into my palms, but the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I grab my whiskey bottle with my other free hand from the pile of empty bottles on the ground as I take a swing again, the harsh burn not so much of a distraction to my misery I was feeling inside. Last night… fuck, last night was a blur of rage, uncalculated moves and misplaced jealousy. I can still see Logan’s face, the way his eyes softened in pain and then filled with a hurt so profound it twisted a knife in my gut. “You are just the same with Stephen,” he had said to me, his voice was trembling as he spoke. He cried. My God! He had cried so hard his small frame was shaking terribly under my weight. The image of his tears is plastered into my brain, a brand of my own making. The worst part? I know, deep down, that I misread e