Weaponized Love: The Irresistible Devil Claimed Me

Sexual desire didn't bother with restraint; it pressed forward boldly, blatant and uncontained.

Roselyn Hayes found herself flattened against the fogged glass of the bathroom door, cool moisture seeping into her skin. Her wrists were trapped behind her back while a firm hand locked around her waist, holding her there with practiced ease. She had long since stopped counting how many rounds of sex they had had.

"Why didn't you tell me about flying back all of a sudden?" Wesley Dixon's voice came from just behind her shoulder—low, roughened, threaded with something dangerous.

Instead of responding, Roselyn stared at her blurred reflection and acted as if the question had never reached her ears.

That deliberate silence earned a slow reaction. He dipped his head, teeth brushing her earlobe in a lazy, taunting bite, lingering just enough to make his point.

Three years was more than enough time for Wesley to learn every sensitive part of her body.

With her lashes pressed tight, Roselyn shuddered uncontrollably, tension rippling through her until a soft moan escaped her despite herself.

A chill laugh grazed her ear as Wesley drawled, his voice laced with mockery, "Was this sudden return because Kevin's getting engaged again?"

Something sharp tugged deep inside Roselyn, a quiet flash of pain she couldn't ignore. Her eyes snapped open, focus scattering as the truth hit her all at once. However much it hurt to admit, Kevin Warren was stepping into another engagement.

Curling his lips, Wesley leaned closer, every word dripping with scorn. "You were kicked out and sent overseas three years ago. We've been sleeping together just as long—and you're still obsessed with Kevin?"

The accusation struck hard. Heat surged through Roselyn—anger laced with raw embarrassment. Her jaw tightened before she shot back, "For the past three years, we've been nothing more than friends with benefits! Why does it bother you so much?"

Friends with benefits? Such a clean, convenient label—for something more than that to him. Wesley suddenly turned rough. He pulled Roselyn to the sink and pressed her from behind, making her half-lean against the cold surface. One broad hand locked around her waist, possessive and unyielding, while the other tilted her chin upward, forcing her eyes to meet their reflection in the mirror. His voice dropped, cold and dangerous as he demanded, "Isn't being with me exciting enough?"

His grip tightened slightly. "Stop clinging to Kevin—and remember exactly how I make you feel."

Roselyn endured it, every nerve stretched raw as she faced the woman in the mirror—flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes glazed with a look she barely recognized. Clamping her teeth onto her lower lip, she tried to ground herself, desperate for anything that might pull her back.

A sharp ringtone cut through the haze. Somewhere nearby, the phone she'd flung aside began to vibrate insistently. The screen lit up with a single name—Kevin.

Her gut lurched as if the floor had dropped out from under her.

She hadn't even drawn a breath before Wesley moved. One swift motion—his hand darted out, scooping up the phone. A tap. The call went through. He turned on the speaker and held it right in front of her, his grip unyielding.

Kevin's voice flowed from the device, calm and familiar, carrying a gentle warmth that made her chest tighten. "Roselyn? You're back?"

For a split second, everything inside her went white and hollow, panic roaring through her veins.

Leaning closer, Wesley brushed his lips against her ear and murmured with deliberate cruelty, "Go on. Say something."

The quiet dragged on before Kevin spoke again through the speaker, his tone tentative. "Roselyn?"

Tension knotted through her body, every nerve drawn tight; her mouth quivered as she tried to form a reply, but Wesley crowded her from behind and abruptly drove the moment faster, his insistence turning rough enough to steal her breath.

Control slipped through her fingers despite her effort to hold it together, and a faint, muffled sound betrayed her anyway.

The line went quiet on Kevin's end for a beat. Concern sharpened his tone as he pressed on. "Roselyn—are you okay?"

In that instant, dread tangled with a sharp, illicit rush of sensation, the two crashing together until her thoughts scattered. The surge left her swaying, stripped of any real control over her body.

Shivers ran through her as every nerve drew tight. Lowering her tone, she forced the words out as evenly as she could manage. "I'm fine… I just twisted my ankle. It was nothing."

Kevin said, "Tell me where you are—I'll come pick you up."

Swallowing hard, she responded, "No—there's really no need."

His reply came smoothly, leaving no room for argument. "Just send me your location—I'll come get you myself. We'll go home and have dinner together."