His Forbidden Obsession

Start Reading

Tristan's massive hand tore through the fabric of my skirt. You think I've kept you under my wing all these years just to let some brain-dead trash put their hands on you? He pinned me against the wooden door, his unblinking stare dropping to the torn hem.

Hold on. Let's rewind.

Just a few days ago, this exact same man had coldly ordered me off his lap.

"Get off." His brow had furrowed, his voice dripping with ice as he ruthlessly rejected my confession.

So, I wore this exact same skirt to go dancing with a senior from my university.

And now, my dear 'uncle' Tristan had dragged me away in front of everyone, pinning me against the bedroom door.

That skirt ended up shredded in his grip.

Chapter 1

I stood in the entryway, waiting for the deadbolt to click. The second the door swung open, I launched myself into the man's chest.

"Lucky you, it's like hugging a cloud!"

The air went deathly quiet.

Just as I started wondering why Tristan hadn't pushed me away like he usually did, a low chuckle vibrated from above my head.

"Tristan, your place comes with a free greeting service?"

I snatched my arms back as if burned. I had hugged the wrong man.

Anticipation flatlined into pure horror.

Tristan stood directly behind the stranger, his dark eyes locked on me, completely unreadable. The heat drained from my face. I stood glued to the floorboards, unable to blink or look away.

Outside, it was the dead of winter. But riding the high of the indoor heating, I had changed into a tight black lace camisole and an obscenely short plaid A-line skirt. I originally thought the messy updo secured by a random claw clip might make him take a second look at me. Instead, standing in front of these towering men, it only made me look like a cornered prey.

The stranger's gaze raked over me from head to toe. "Tristan, man you usually play this wild at home?"

The moment his eyes trailed further down, Tristan stepped right in front of me, cutting off his line of sight. He flicked open the coat draped over his arm and wrapped it tightly around my shoulders.

Without a word, Tristan scooped me up, carrying me in his arms all the way back to my room.

"Could that skirt be any shorter?" He dropped me onto the sofa, his gaze fixed cold and level on my hemline.

"Huh?" I dragged out the syllable, still short-circuiting as I stared up at him. "Uncle Tristan, do you want it shorter?"

My fingers hooked into the plaid fabric, tugging it up an inch. "Like this?"

Instantly, his massive hand slammed down over mine, pinning it flat against my thigh. His gaze bored straight through me. "Doing this on purpose?"

Two agonizing seconds passed before my brain rebooted. My cheeks burned. I pressed my lips together, scraping up every ounce of nerve I had.

"You mean, trying to turn you on on purpose?" I held his stare. "Tristan is it working?"

The pitch-black of his pupils swallowed the amber in his eyes instantly. "What did you just call me?"

Before any thrill of victory could register in my chest, a sudden shock of cold air hit my waist. His rough knuckles grazed my skin, slowly rolling the hem of my camisole up, inch by agonizing inch. Right before the edge of my pale blue lace underwear could be exposed, my breath hitched. I broke.

"Uncle Tristan"

His hand finally dropped. He stood over me, his voice dangerously low. "Piper, my moral compass isn't exactly functional."

He leaned in closer. "Provoke me again, and I won't mind acting like a total bastard just to teach you a lesson. Understand?"

He dropped the velvet-wrapped threat and walked straight out the door.

I noticed his posture wasn't quite as rigid as usual. His shoulders were slightly hunched.

Right before my bedroom door clicked shut, I caught sight of the guy still standing in the living room. His gaze tracked Tristan's retreating figure. Then, his eyes dropped a little lower.

His jaw practically unhinged, nearly hitting the floor. "Holy shit, Tristan!" he choked out. "You sick bastard"

Tristan didn't even acknowledge him, stalking straight into his own bedroom.

Later, when I relayed the entire disaster to my equally zero-experience best friend Zoey, she screeched like a cornered raccoon through the phone.

I held the speaker away from my ear, listening to her frantic voice note. "Are you kidding me? He is totally into you!"

"Why else would he turn the tables and play along?! Older men just have huge egos! Go confess, Piper. It's a guaranteed win!"

My nails bit into my palms as I gripped the phone. I actually believed her delusional logic.

I gave a firm, solemn nod to the empty room.

Chapter 2

I raided the mini-bar in my room, yanked out a bottle of tequila, and took two massive swigs straight from the neck to borrow some liquid courage.

It might have been a bit too much courage. My head spun as I pushed the door open. I originally planned to wait until Tristan's friends left, but the tequila burning in my veins wasn't taking 'wait' for an answer.

Two more guys had shown up at some point. Tristan and his three friends were lounging on the custom leather sectional in the living room, talking about God knows what. My steps were decidedly unsteady as I crossed the floor.

"Whoa, Tristan, looks like your kid is wasted!"

I snapped my head toward the guy who spoke, enunciating every single word. "I am not a kid. I turn twenty in three months."

He didn't take me seriously at all, just bursting into another fit of laughter. I ignored him, marching right up to Tristan and planting my feet in front of him.

We locked eyes for exactly one second before I swung my leg over his thighs and straddled his lap.

The conversation in the room cut off instantly. Every guy froze. Tristan's massive hands immediately clamped onto my lower back to keep my swaying body from toppling over.

His voice was dangerously low. "Are you drunk out of your mind right now?"

I shook my head, looping both my arms around his neck and leaning in close.

A chorus of chaotic reactions erupted behind me.

"What the actual fuck"

"Wait, Tristan wasn't raising a niece this whole time, he was raising a future"

Tristan's jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered at his temple. The temperature in the room plummeted.

I pressed my lips together. My breath smelled entirely of raw tequila. The alcohol stripped away all my defenses, leaving my voice far softer than usual.

"I have feelings for you, Tristan."

Pin-drop silence suffocated the living room.

The warm hands supporting my spine dropped away. He lowered his gaze, his face a completely unreadable mask as he delivered the rejection. "Go back to your room if you're drunk."

I shook my head frantically, opening my mouth to argue. But when Tristan looked back up, his unreadable stare pinned me in place.

He looked at me like I was a complete stranger.

The words calcified in my throat. I couldn't force a single syllable past my lips.

I have no memory of how I dragged myself back to the bedroom hallway. Just as I was about to pull my door shut, their voices bled through the crack.

"Tristan, man, what the hell was that? Are you two"

"Oh, I get it now! You took her in back then just so you could tap that later, right?"

"Makes sense. She was pretty as a kid, but damn, she filled out nicely. I'd definitely hit"

He never finished that sentence.

A loud crack echoed as heavy crystal shattered against bone. Through the sliver of the doorway, I watched Tristan snatch his whiskey glass from the table and hurl it directly into the guy's face. A howl of sheer agony ripped through the room over the sound of breaking glass.

Tristan kept his eyes lowered, casually fishing a cigarette from his silver case and lighting it. His movements were terrifyingly slow and precise, as if he hadn't just committed a violent assault a second ago.

The guy clutching his bleeding face sobered up instantly. His filthy smirk vanished, replaced by sheer panic as he scrambled to his feet. "Tristan, fuck, I'm so sorry! I crossed the line, it was just a joke!"

Tristan tapped a long stretch of ash into the heavy crystal ashtray. His voice was dead and flat.

"If I ever hear another joke about her out of any of your mouths" He exhaled a plume of gray smoke. "I will permanently teach you how to keep them shut."

One of the other guys nervously cleared his throat, desperately trying to de-escalate the tension. "Hey, Tristan's just fiercely protective of his niece, man. We get it!"

Tristan didn't offer a single word of denial.

I clicked the door shut without making a sound.

I crawled under my duvet, pulling the heavy fabric over my head. My chest seized violently, ragged breaths burning my throat as silent tears soaked into the pillowcase. When the last drop of tequila burned out of my system, my mind crystallized into cold clarity. I dug my nails into my palms and made a promise to myself.

I was done having feelings for Tristan.

The next morning, I woke up before dawn and dragged an empty suitcase from the closet, coldly packing my essentials.

I yanked the bedroom door open and ran straight into Tristan's chest.

Chapter 3

"Where do you think you're going?"

I kept my gaze lowered, my tone perfectly even and polite. "Uncle Tristan, there's only a month left until my junior year starts. I found a summer job near campus, so I'm moving back to the dorms."

He blocked my path, refusing to yield a single inch. His eyes locked onto mine, his voice tight with suppressed tension. "About last night. We need to talk."

I took a step back, pulling up the corners of my mouth. "Uncle Tristan, I was out of my mind drunk last night."

"I crossed a line, but it was just the alcohol talking. None of it meant anything. Please, just forget it."

"Piper." His Adam's apple bobbed. A dark warning bled into his low baritone. "None of it meant anything?"

He let out a short, hollow laugh.

I gave him a slow, deliberate nod.

A violent storm seemed to brew in Tristan's dark eyes. He stared at me without blinking, taking a slow, predatory step forward.

Just as the suffocating pressure closed in on my throat, the doorbell chimed.

My private Ivy League prep tutor stood on the porch. She looked a bit hesitant. "Piper, I was wondering if you do any tutoring?" she asked. "My son is heading into his senior year and needs some help prepping for college apps, but I'm leaving for an intensive educators' seminar out of state."

My tutor had always been a close, comforting presence in my life.

Years ago, during my own senior year of high school. I had come home from late-night studying to find the massive penthouse completely empty. Then, the power went out.

Terrified of the pitch black, I curled into a tight ball in the corner of the sectional and dialed Tristan's number. "Uncle Tristan, where did you go? The power is out, and I'm really scared." I twisted the hem of my shirt around my fingers, keeping my voice down.

Tristan's voice came through the speaker, raspy and dangerously tight. "I'm sorry, Piper. I'm in Vancouver right now."

Panic instantly seized my chest, a choked sob slipping past my lips. "Why would you do that? You didn't even tell me you were leaving."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "It's too dark in here. I'm terrified"

Rustling sounds echoed from Tristan's end. He sounded incredibly busy, but he apologized again, promising to send someone over immediately. I thought he was going to send his cold-blooded head of security, but surprisingly, my private Ivy League prep tutor showed up at the door.

She gently took my hand, soothing my frayed nerves as she brought me back to her place. I never forgot the brief warmth of those few days.

So, when she asked if her son, Rowan, could crash at my place for a few days while I tutored him, I couldn't say no.

Rowan seemed like a sweet, well-behaved kid. He sat quietly at my desk, paying close attention as I walked him through the equations.

In stark contrast, Tristan was being completely insufferable.

When he found a random excuse to walk into my bedroom for the third time in half an hour, I finally snapped. "Can you just say whatever you need to say all at once?"

Tristan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. His cold eyes swept over Rowan, who was sitting just inches away from me. "Can't leave the door open while you teach?"

I didn't really care either way. I opened my mouth to agree, but Rowan gently tugged on my sleeve. "Piper, I'd rather keep the door closed. It's quieter, and I can actually focus."

Tristan's eyes narrowed. He looked down at the teenage boy, his posture radiating pure intimidation.

His voice dripped with thick sarcasm. "Then come to my room. I'll close the door and teach you personally."

Rowan, who was barely a few inches taller than me, visibly flinched.

I stepped right in front of Tristan, blocking his death glare. "Tristan, back off. You're scaring him."

The air around Tristan instantly turned toxic. His dark, fathomless eyes locked entirely onto me.

"Defending him?" he murmured, stepping closer. "Got bored of our little uncle-and-niece game? So you're just going to bite the hand that fed you and kick me to the curb?"

Chapter 4

He was the one who rejected me first.

I blinked back the harsh burn in my eyes, lifting my chin to glare right back at him. "I am completely sick of you! You're almost thirtya boring, rigid, control freak of an old man!"

"What gives you the right to dictate who I spend my time with?!" I shot back. "Why aren't I allowed to get bored of you?!"

The air in the room flatlined, thickening with something dark and highly volatile.

Before my brain could even process the shift, my feet left the floor. Tristan hoisted me over his shoulder, carrying me straight into his bedroom.

His massive hand clamped down on my waist like a steel vice as he kicked the door shut, the deadbolt clicking with a final, terrifying thud. A dark, predatory smirk ghosted across his lips. "You think I kept you under my wing all these years just to let some brain-dead trash put their hands on you?"

He tossed me onto his mattress.

The last time I was in this bed, I was eight years old, having just moved into his estate. I had a nightmare, and he bent the rules to let me sleep in his room. Back then, I used to call him my older brother, before his family's strict hierarchy forced me to switch to 'Uncle'.

The down comforter was too soft, swallowing me up before I could scramble away. Tristan's voice dropped, taking on a sudden, silky softness that sent a violent shudder down my spine.

He took his time, methodically unfastening his cuffs, a dark smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Tristan, what are you doing" I scrambled backward, inch by agonizing inch.

He just stood there, watching my futile struggle with the absolute, unhurried patience of a predator who already had his prey cornered.

"You, Piper." Tristan's dark eyes never left mine, completely unblinking as his long fingers moved down the placket of his black button-down, undoing the buttons one by one.

The terrifying double meaning of his words finally slammed into my chest.

"Uncle Tristan you're scaring me" I tried to kick back, but his calloused palm instantly clamped around my bare ankle, dragging me straight to the edge of the mattress, right between his legs.

"A rigid, boring old man?" The raw heat of his body radiated against my skin. "Let's see just how rigid I can get."

I was completely suffocated by the heavy scent of his cedar and tobacco cologne. A tight knot formed in my stomach, leaving a slight tremor in my fingers. The sheer, overwhelming panic of this unfamiliar heat made my survival instincts kick in. I thrashed against him, desperate to break free.

Tristan's patience snapped. With one single, massive hand, he easily pinned both of my wrists above my head. "Stop fighting me."

I stared up at the massive shadow caging me in, instinctively trying to shove his solid chest. "You can't just get on top of me!"

Tristan gripped my wrists tighter, effortlessly securing them while he took his time consuming every ounce of my panic. He stared down at me, throwing my own actions back in my face. "You can straddle my lap, but I can't get on top of yours?"

My face burned so hot I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"But you're way too big! You're going to completely wreck me"

Tristan was six-foot-two, with broad, muscular shoulders and a heavily built frame. He was genuinely going to flatten me.

Tristan stopped tracing my knuckles. A suffocating second passed. When he finally lifted his gaze, his eyes were pitch-black, swimming with something dark and feral.

He let the words roll slowly off his tongue, turning them into a lethal threat. "Wreck you?"

I had a terrifying feeling he had completely misunderstood what I meant

A sudden, violent pounding on the door shattered the tension.

"Piper, are you okay in there?!" It was Rowan. "Mr. Tristan, if you don't open this door right now, I'm calling the cops!"

Tristan didn't even flinch. He just stayed right where he was, quietly savoring the sheer terror radiating off my body. A few agonizing seconds passed before he reached up, his thumb gently swiping across my flushed cheek. "Are you going to be a good girl and make a sound for him, Piper?"

Hearing him say my name in this exact position twisted the air with a dark, suffocating intimacy.

"Either you tell the kid outside to get lost, or I unlock the door and let him watch us."

I had no idea this was the real Tristan. For years, he had worn this flawless mask of restraint around me, never once crossing the line.

I swallowed hard, my voice dropping to a trembling whisper. "But I don't know how I really don't know how to do that"

Rowan's voice kept bleeding through the heavy oak door. "Open the damn door, Tristan! Or I'm breaking it down!"

Chapter 5

Tristan acted as if he hadn't heard a word. Unbothered, he shifted his weight, closing the remaining gap between us. "My fault. I haven't taught you."

The second the words left his mouth, his rough fingertips brushed against the ultra-sensitive skin of my earlobe.

A violent shudder ripped through me. A soft, breathless sound slipped past my lips.

Tristan seemed entirely satisfied with that. He leaned in, his hot breath ghosting right over my ear as a low, raspy chuckle vibrated in his chest. "Good girl. Just like that."

Before I could even process the praise, Tristan tilted his head and crashed his mouth over mine, swallowing whatever sound I was about to make.

My brain flatlined for a full second. He devoured my lips with a punishing, territorial heat. When my survival instincts finally kicked back in, I slammed my hands against his broad shoulders, desperately trying to shove him off.

Tristan's eyes were half-closed, heavy with dark intent. Without breaking the kiss, he easily captured both my wrists, pinning my hands down and threading his long fingers right through mine, locking us together on the mattress.

I had absolutely no idea when Rowan's frantic pounding on the door outside finally stopped.

It felt like an eternity before Tristan finally broke the kiss, leaving us both breathing heavily.

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of my mouth. "Repeat exactly what you said to me last night," he commanded, his voice a gravelly whisper.

I shoved hard against his chest, scrambling backward across the mattress until I was safely out of his reach. I glared at him, my chest heaving with a mix of utter confusion and raw anger.

"Tristan, you literally rejected me yesterday." I wiped the back of my hand across my swollen lips. "And now you're just pinning me down and kissing me out of nowhere? What the hell is your game here?"

Tristan closed the distance instantly, sinking into the mattress right beside me. He reached out, his thumb gently swiping over my lower lip where he had bitten me a little too hard during the struggle. "Consider me a complete bastard who lost his damn mind. Does that work for you?"

He hooked his thick arm under my knees, effortlessly pulling me back flush against his chest and settling me across his lap. He kept his face buried in the crook of my neck, his lips brushing against my collarbone as he murmured low, dirty apologies and confessions right into my skin.

I let him coddle me, half-listening to his deep voice rumble against my chest. That is, until I heard the words 'keep this strictly under wraps for now.'

I snapped my head up, pulling away from his neck to look him dead in the eye. "Why?"

Tristan went dead silent. A long, agonizing moment passed before a self-deprecating smirk twisted his lips. "I have a lot of power, Piper, but I am not God."

"I can't completely shut the mouth of every single parasite in this city." He traced the line of my jaw.

"I don't give a damn if the board of directors or the media calls me a sick bastard or a predator for touching you. I can stomach that. But you can't."

The reality hit me like a bucket of ice water. He was nine years older, my legal guardian since I was an orphaned eight-year-old. And instead of viewing him as family, I had developed a completely twisted, taboo obsession with him.

I instantly understood why he had frozen up and stonewalled my drunken confession last night. He was thinking about the fallout.

I grabbed the lapels of his ruined shirt, the words rushing out of me. "I don't care about the gossip columns or what the high society snobs say about us, Tristan. We can handle the fallout together."

Tristan arched an eyebrow. The arrogant, untouchable billionaire persona he usually kept on a tight leash flared back to life in his dark eyes. He let out a harsh, mocking scoff. "Only a pathetic, weak-ass loser would ever ask his woman to fall on her sword for him."

His voice dropped, losing its sharp edge and turning into something terrifyingly absolute. "Piper, I will never let a single drop of scandal or dirt touch your name."

He spoke casually, but every single word felt like a blood oath. He told me that I was his to protect, his absolute priority. He made it crystal clear that I was never meant to accommodate the ugly judgment of the world, nor was I ever going to bear the cross of our twisted dynamic.

"If being with me means you have to pay a price, Piper," he murmured, his grip on my waist tightening, "that just proves I'm completely useless. Do you understand?"

I stared at him, entirely speechless. We were tangled up on his unmade bed, his shirt half-unbuttonedthere was nothing formal or romantic about this setup at all. But this was Tristan.

When he made a promise, he backed it up with his life. The conviction in his eyes was absolute.

While I agreed to keep our relationship entirely off the radar, I quickly realized this secret setup was the perfect weapon to torture him with.

Once my junior year kicked off, Tristan would occasionally drop by campus to check on me.

One afternoon, we were taking a casual walk near the quad when we ran into a senior from my department. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes darting toward Tristan's imposing, designer-clad figure with obvious intimidation. "Piper, is this your"

I looped my arm tightly through Tristan's, flashing a sickly-sweet smile. "This is my Uncle Tristan."

The senior visibly exhaled a massive sigh of relief. His posture relaxed, and a confident grin spread across his face. "There's an exclusive art exhibition downtown tomorrow, and I happen to have a spare VIP pass. Want to go together?"

Tristan's expression remained perfectly composed, a stony mask of indifference. But I felt the dense muscles in his arm instantly lock up like steel under my touch. The microscopic, icy twitch at the corner of his mouth screamed that he was seconds away from snapping the guy's neck.

I pretended to mull over the offer, tapping my chin thoughtfully for a few agonizing seconds before looking up at the senior. "Well, if my Uncle Tristan gives me permission, I'd love to go."

Chapter 6

The senior immediately looked at Tristan, his eyes practically begging for approval.

The man beside me let out a low scoff, slipping effortlessly into a condescending, disciplinary tone. "Did you forget everything I taught you growing up?" He adjusted his cuffs, his voice dripping with mock disappointment.

"When you have a boyfriend, you draw a hard line and reject other men. Have we finally learned our lesson this time?" Without waiting for my answer, his gaze flicked back to the senior.

His tone turned lazy, overwhelmingly dismissive. "Sorry about that. My little niece has a hard time saying no to people."

He gave the guy a lethal, pitying once-over. "But she definitely isn't into your type."

Tristans slight, dismissive head tilt made the senior look away instantly. I watched the guys defeated silhouette retreat across the quad, offering a silent apology.

Tristan didn't miss a single second of my reaction.

That night in the underground garage of his penthouse building, the second the engine of his SUV cut off, the heavy locks clicked shut with a terrifying finality.

Before I could even blink, Tristan unbuckled his seatbelt and lunged across the center console, completely caging me into the passenger seat.

He crushed his mouth over mine with a brutal, territorial heat, his free hand simultaneously yanking the lever on my seat, sending me falling flat onto my back. I slapped frantically at his broad shoulders, thrashing my head side to side to escape the suffocating kiss.

"No, stop Mmm There are security cameras in here, your security team is going to see"

Tristan let out a harsh, impatient click of his tongue. In one fluid, violent motion, he yanked the heavy nylon seatbelt across my chest, wrapping it tight around my crossed wrists and locking the buckle to pin me down. His rough, calloused fingers instantly clamped around my jaw, tilting my head back to forcefully swallow the rest of my protests.

A suffocating minute later, he finally pulled back an inch. But the distance was practically nonexistent. His hot, ragged breaths fanned across my swollen lips as he gently shook my jaw.

His voice was a dark, magnetic rumble in the confined space. "Picking a fight on purpose today. You think I couldn't tell?"

I pressed my lips together, blinking up at him with wide, manufactured innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about." I let out a soft, mocking sigh. "Uncle Tristan, why are you getting so sensitive in your old age?"

A hollow, dangerous laugh vibrated in his chest before he effortlessly hauled me out of the passenger seat and into his arms. "Little niece, you're practically begging me to f"

It was the first time I had ever heard such a filthy word cross Tristan's disciplined lips. The heat at the tips of my ears practically ignited.

Seeing his lips part to finish the threat, I instinctively slapped my hand over his mouth. "Shut up! Are you a complete psycho?!"

Tristan openly accepted the psycho label without a flinch. He just kept staring at me, his lips curving into a smirk right against the palm of my hand. The friction sent a violent shiver straight down my spine.

"Then let's do it