Reborn Into His Arms: One Night With The Obsessive Devil

"This mess is on you…"

Kaylee Harris trembled. The searing warmth of the broad hand stretched across her waist sent violent shudders through her, even as she fought against the solid body holding her down against the mattress.

The man's heated breath washed over her skin. His mouth moved from hers, dragging slowly along until it reached the soft curve of her throat, where he grazed and bit.

With the drug flooding her bloodstream and the dizzying pull of his scent clouding her senses, her thoughts unraveled into a fog. Pinned within his iron hold, she slipped helplessly between awareness and darkness.

She had never foreseen anything like this. After dying in flames at the hands of that monster, her fiance Declan Edwards, inside what was supposed to be their new home after they got married, she had come back—thrown into the past at the very instant Joyce Harris had slipped something into her drink. While having an affair with her fiance, that vile woman had also thrown her into the bed of some disgusting director and destroy her name beyond repair.

Kaylee had succeeded in knocking the creep out cold and escaping, only to wander blindly into this stranger's room in her dazed state.

Could it be that, even after being given another life, she still had no control over where her path led?

"Don't… don't lay a hand on me," she breathed out weakly. Her hands pressed against the man's chest, trying uselessly to push him away.

Yet the man ignored every word. His hold snapped tighter, and his knee forced its way between her legs without effort.

A sudden, strange pain ripped through her as his long fingers clamped firmly around her waist. Any hint of restraint he might have had vanished in an instant, replaced by something fierce and unrelenting.

With no strength left in her body, Kaylee was unable to resist. She had no choice but to let him draw her closer, enduring the relentless, unrestrained pace he set.

By the time the surge of intensity finally died down, the sky beyond the towering windows had begun to soften with the faint light of early morning.

Utterly drained, Kaylee could not so much as lift a finger. She sank into an uneasy, heavy sleep against his chest.

……

"You've got some nerve." A shadowed, deadly tone cleaved through the stillness.

Before Kaylee could properly surface from sleep, icy fingers locked hard around her neck.

The sudden flare of agony and the sharp deprivation of breath jolted her awake. Her gaze collided head-on with a face that was striking in a way that felt almost sinister.

Her back stiffened instantly when she noticed the tiny mark beneath his eye, along with the unfathomable intensity in his razor-sharp stare.

Why was it him?

As the hazy, heated fragments of the previous night surged back with brutal clarity, a wave of cold fear seeped into her bones. This man was Caden Lloyd—the head of the Lloyd Group, and