Empire of Hate: A Second Chance Enemies to Lovers Romance

If hearts were able to spill free, mine would be splashing on the floor.

My fingers dig into my shawl to stop myself from reaching out to his back. Seems that’s all I ever have of Daniel.

His back.

His cold shoulder.

His ignorance.

Eleven years didn’t change that. Probably nothing will.

He slowly turns around and I physically flinch at the tightness on his face, the raw anger covering his features like a warrior’s helmet. That and the dry blood on his temple make him appear savage.

Primal, even.

“What the fuck did you just say?” The air carries his calmly-spoken words like a whip that meets my skin with a thwack.

I raise my chin, despite the pain that’s bleeding in my soul with the lethality of a poison. “Are you repulsed by me because I’m damaged goods?”

“Shut the fuck up, Nicole.”

“Tell me.” I walk to him, my speed slow and faulty like a crippled animal. “Tell me you don’t want to touch me anymore. Say it, Daniel. Just off me already so I’ll stop having these delusional thoughts about you—”

My words end in a gasp when he grabs me by the throat and slams his lips to mine. It’s a hungry kiss, animalistic in nature and with so much heat that I’ll probably suffer from second-degree burns—make that first-degree.

His fingers squeeze the sides of my neck, turning me lightheaded, and his other hand grips my chin with a possession that leaves me breathless.

He leaves me breathless.

Always has since that day I nearly died in his arms.

His lips devour mine and his tongue slips inside with the pure intention to conquer.

The magic breaks when he wrenches his mouth from mine as suddenly as he devoured me. The fire in his eyes is nothing short of lava spilling from a volcano.

“Don’t you ever, and I mean fucking ever, repeat that. You’re not damaged goods, never were and never will be. Are we clear?”

Is it wrong that I think he’s the most attractive I’ve seen him right now? Even the trail of blood on his temple makes him ruggedly handsome in a fallen angel type of way.

The one who’s able to take it all away, to give me the support I thought I didn’t need but turns out I do.

A squeeze on my throat pulls me out of the dreamy phase. “Are we clear?”

I nod.

“Use your voice.”

“Yeah. I just…thought you were repulsed by me since, well…you didn’t want to touch me.”

He slides his erection up and down my stomach, spreading a violent wave of arousal between my thighs. “Do I seem repulsed? I can be disgusted with the whole world, but never you, Peaches. Fuck. You must know what you do to me.”

“No,” I blurt. “Tell me.”

He drops his forehead on mine, briefly closing his eyes before they trap me in a shock of pure intensity. “You’re the only woman I wanted with a desperation that bordered on both pleasure and pain. The only woman who drives me fucking insane but I still can’t look away from. My fixation with you made me hate all blondes because they reminded me of you. Brunettes aren’t my type, Peaches. You are. And you know what, your condition about exclusivity is bloody useless. Ever since you came back into my life, I haven’t been able to see another woman, let alone fuck her. It’s you. Only you.”

Is it possible to have a heart attack due to happiness?

Is it possible to free fall deeper than I already was?

All the words he just said echo in my head round and round, making me dizzy, disoriented, and on my way to cloud nine.

I didn’t think I could get high on words alone.

Not any words.

Daniel’s.

I lick my dry lips. “Then…why did you vehemently refuse to be exclusive?”

His thumb strokes my cheek back and forth, like the rhythm of a soothing lullaby. “I wanted to push you away, to prove to myself that you meant nothing.”

“How did that work for you?”

“In a miserably awful way, and stop smiling like that unless you’re up for me to fuck you like an animal.”

My grin widens. “You can. If it’s you, I’m up for anything.”

A grunt spills out of him. “You’re killing me, Peaches.”

“Not more than you were killing me all this time.” I get on my tiptoes, grab a handful of his shirt, and whisper my deepest secret. “You’re the first one who made me enjoy sex again after what happened.”

He physically flinches at that as if I slapped him. “Really?”

“Really. I admit, at the beginning, it felt too much sometimes, which is why I got panic attacks.”

Daniel searches my eyes, the lines of his face scrunched in pain. “Did I hurt you? Even unintentionally?”

I shake my head. “You always took care of me and put me first. Didn’t you notice that I’ve become more comfortable touching you with time? I’m sure it’ll get even better if we keep doing this.”

When I get back on the soles of my feet, Daniel is groaning, and soon after, I join when his lips claim mine again.

He lifts me up in his strong arms, pulling the world from beneath my feet. I moan and smile and laugh against his mouth as he carries me up the stairs as if I weigh nothing.

I don’t know where he’s taking me and I don’t care.

I can kiss Daniel for a lifetime and not be bored. He tastes of alcohol, a hint of the lollipop’s peach flavor, and desperation.

He tastes just like my favorite things.

My back meets something soft, a mattress. We’re in his bedroom, I know because the caretaker of the house told me so during the tour I insisted on taking while I was waiting for Daniel to return.

London scared me. London was filled with fake façades, broken dreams, and irreversible traumas.

But not when he’s in it.

Now, it thrills me. It makes me want to return to the time where the highlight of my day was bickering with him.

I wish I could tell him, you’re a loser meant you’re the only person who rattles me.

Piss off meant come closer.

I hate you meant I like you, I miss you, I love you.

Still kissing me, he throws my shawl away and sneaks his hand behind my back to rip my dress open.

Then it’s on the floor, my dress, and soon my bra and underwear follow. I’m entirely naked in front of his ferocious eyes, but that doesn’t even spring a hint of a panic attack.

There’s a different attack happening in my chest. Heart. Life. Everywhere.

And the way he looks at me? It’s nothing short of both lust and passion. I feel stupid for even thinking he’d be repulsed by me, that he didn’t want to touch me.

Daniel basically rips his shirt open, revealing his muscled abs and smooth chest.

This beautiful man is mine.

All mine.

And he seals that thought when his lips find my nipple. He sucks the tight bud between his teeth until I’m writhing and arching off the bed for more.

“Oh, Dan…”

He slowly lifts his head, nuzzling his chin against the soft flesh of my breast. “Say that again. My name.”

“Dan…”

“Say you want me, Peaches.”

“I want you. I always wanted you.”

“Fuck.” He slides his fingers down my stomach and to the warm place between my legs. “You’re soaked, baby.”

I press my lips together, unable to utter a word. And I don’t need to. He brings me to orgasm within minutes, his fingers expertly working my core and clit. It’s like he knows the right places that drive me mad.

While I’m still coming down from it, Daniel removes his trousers and boxer briefs. He flings my legs over his shoulders and drives into me slow, but so deep, hitting my pleasurable spot.

The orgasm elongates as he fucks me tenderly, taking his time to fill me whole before he moves.

My gasps and moans fill the air as the rhythm drives me insane. It’s so similar to the way he fucked me that night eleven years ago.

After the first hard and ruthless ones, he took his time fucking me slowly, savoring me, and I was stupid to think he was making love to me.

Seems I’m stupid right now, too, because I can’t erase that image out of my head.

That word.

That sensation.

My heart soars and my body detonates to life after so many years of being dormant.

My stomach churns and every limb falls into the same pace as his, my hips rotating to meet the power of his.

And just when I think I’ll come, Daniel flips us.

I gasp as he ends up on his back with me on top. The position gets him so deep inside me, I can feel him in my belly.

My palms are on his chest, on his pain and vengeance tattoo, as I stare at him questionably.

“Ride me, Nicole.”

“W-what?”

“Use my cock to get off. I want to see your tits bouncing and your hair flying with how much you fuck me.”

Holy shit.

My heart can’t take this. And neither can my body, but I do it. I lift myself up, then fall down on his cock.

It’s so hard and thick that it hurts a little, but I welcome that burn, and I repeat it over and over again.

Once I find my rhythm, I release his chest and grip his thighs for balance. At first, Daniel watches me with that fire, with that lust, and want, that mirrors mine.

He rakes his eyes over my bouncing breasts, to my wild hair, and finally on where his body meets mine.

Then, he grabs my hips, his hooded eyes focused on mine, and thrusts in me from the bottom.

The rhythm is mad and the friction is so intense that I think I’ll black out from the promise of pleasure alone.

“You look like a fucking goddess, Peaches.”

I come then, my chest squeezing with all the words and touches and everything in between.

But it doesn’t end. Not when he keeps driving in me from below and playing with my nipples as he chases his own orgasm.

I bite my lower lip, watching his face contort as he releases deep inside me.

I can feel his cum pouring out of me and I release a sigh as I collapse on top of him, my head colliding with his thundering heartbeat.

As if it’s planning to leap out of his chest and slip into mine.

I love you, I want to say, but I can’t.

What if it ruins this moment? What if I lose him again?

If my feelings scare him, then there’s no need for them.

There’s no need for stupid emotions that only got me in trouble before. I’m fine with just this.

Or at least I try to think that I am.

Unrequited love hurts. No matter how much I try to hide it, it escapes to a deeper part of me and remains hauled in there, festering, turning to a bitter pill I swallow every morning.

Every day.

Every year.

I tried to cure myself of the Daniel disease. I truly did, and I thought I succeeded all those years I was busy raising Jay and surviving in a world that spat me out like chewed gum.

But seeing him again, being with him, reaching to a secret part of him is just too much.

I’m not strong enough to resist that.

To resist him.

“The art of pain is an abstract form of vengeance,” I read his tattoo in the silence of the room. “Who said that?”

“Me.”

“I didn’t know you were a philosopher.”

“I’m not. I dreamt about it.”

I prop my elbows on his chest to stare at him. “A dreamer, too. You keep surprising me, Dan.”

A grin paints his lips and that’s really not good for me because his dimples appear and they’re so mesmerizing and beautiful and dangerous for me. “Mission accomplished.”

“Do you still want revenge against me?”

“No. I don’t think I even wanted that in the first place, I just…channeled those negative thoughts into that specific jar.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop being mean?”

“Was I?”

“You were a dick.”

“Happy to see you have colorful language in your dictionary, Miss Prude.”

My fingers find the blood on his forehead and I try to wipe it away. “I curse internally sometimes. What I showed was never what I felt.”

He breathes heavily. “I’m starting to see that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’m going to need some time to wrap my head around it all.”

“There was an exception.”

“An exception?”

“The day we had sex for the first time, I showed what I felt.”

A heated look covers his features and I think he’ll fuck me again, but he kisses me.

Sweet and tender, then raw and violent.

“Tell me you’re mine, Nicole,” he groans against my lips.

“I’m yours.” The words are the easiest I’ve ever said.

“Only mine?”

“Only yours.”

Probably since we were young.

But I don’t say that because apparently feelings are not Daniel’s forte.

Hell. He’s still wrapping his head around the past.

If I give him time, he’ll come back to me, right?

He’ll heal. I’ll heal and he’ll love me.

I shiver at that.

That’s the exact thought I had eleven years ago. That with time, he’ll come to me.

But it was never the case.

If anything, it ended with a tragedy.

I try not to think about that as I kiss him and sleep tucked in the curve of his body with his legs and arms swallowing me in a cocoon.

It’s like he can’t touch me enough, entwine his body with mine enough.

Be with me enough.

A small gasp startles me awake. At first, I’m disoriented by the morning light coming from the window.

I’m pretty sure the curtains were closed last night, and I don’t think the mansion’s staff would waltz into Daniel’s bedroom.

Oh, shit. Please don’t tell me Jay found his way here.

I jerk up to a sitting position, pulling the covers around my chest.

Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about traumatizing my little brother for life.

Unfortunately, I’m staring into the green eyes I wished to not see again for a lifetime.

My stepsister—ex-stepsister—glares at me with a hand on her hip. “What the hell is going on here?”