Night of Destiny (Anastasia Tillman)

Chapter 357 Deep-Seated Trauma Anastasia wanted to cry out in exasperation, for she should have known better than to trust this man.

“Elliot, | swear, if you think you can—" However, before she could say the words ‘get away with it’, Elliot inched forward and kissed her.

He intended to get away with this, and it looked like he was succeeding. After all, he couldn't help himself when it cto Anastasia; it was as if she was his fatal attraction, her presence probing and enticing him like a siren’s call.

Anastasia struggled against him for a few seconds, but it was all for show since she knew there was no escaping the man on top of her. In the end, she succumbed to his kisses, the hunger in her awakening with the way he nibbled and tugged on her lips.

However, there was a voice in the back of her head, albeit a muffled one, that nagged at her and made her keep her guard up.

She wasn’t so much worried about someone walking in on them as she was about losing herself to Elliot and his deadly charisma.

She still wasn’t ready to bring their intimacy to the next level, and while the kiss was sweet and lingering, she couldn't help sensing the danger in it as well. The air that crackled around them as their tension built reminded her of a brewing storm, and any tnow, a hurricane would hit them and wreak havoc.

However, with the direction this very intimate kiss was taking, she wasn’t sure how she could keep the floodgates closed any longer, not when the water was already bursting to cthrough.

Everything about Elliot—his breath, his warmth, and his testosterone-driven urgency—was shrouding her like a veil. The voice of reason in her mind was being constantly drowned out by her own desire, and for a moment, it was like reality had melted away into the background.

She was on the verge of surrendering to nature and primal instincts at this point.

Just then, Elliot whispered huskily, “l want you, Anastasia...” This sent an electric current through her veins, and she shuddered as she willed herself to push him away. “Elliot, no...” The next second, however, he picked her up from the couch without warning and carried her over to the master bedroom.

She was so stunned that her mind drew a blank. The dimness of the bedroom becsomething like a dark space for Elliot to act on his heightened senses. He wanted nothing more than to lay her down and please her in ways she could never imagine.

Anastasia’s thoughts were hazy, and her insides were coiled up with mixed feelings she couldn't quite decipher. When she tried to push Elliot away, he clasped her wrists and pinned her hands above her head, which prompted indescribable fear to course through her all of a sudden.

“No... Don’t touch me... Go away!” Panic seized her. It was as if her mind did not perceive the man kissing her to be Elliot, but that sc*mbag from five years ago. His strong arms, his towering build, and his domineering, unforgiving air struck a heavy resemblance to the gigolo from Abyss Club.

“Anastasia, what's wrong?” Upon sensing that something was off with her, Elliot stopped and reached out to hold her.

Unexpectedly, she struggled violently to get away from him as she cried, “Go away! Don’t touch me!” It was like he had becthe source of her fear. Bewildered, he quickly got off the bed, strode over to the door, and turned on the lights in the room.

When he saw the girl curled into a ball on the bed with her eyes tightly closed while her body trembled with insurmountable fear and hurt, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. He hated himself for having pushed her too far.

He suddenly remembered the horrific ordeal she had been through. Whatever they had been doing just now—or rather, whatever he had been doing to her—had clearly brought her deep-seated trauma to the surface.

“Anastasia, it's me,” Elliot murmured as he perched on the edge of the bed, keeping a safe distance as he reached out to stroke her hair gently. It made it seem like he was coaxing a wounded animal.

It was only then that she opened her misty eyes, and she suddenly becaware of how she had overreacted. She flipped onto her side, looking flustered as she mumbled, “I'm sorry for scaring you.” There was no hiding the guilt in his voice as he said, “No, | should be the one to say sorry.” She sat up slowly and buried her face in her hands. “I... | think you should go home.” He couldn't possibly leave her alone in this state. He implored softly, “Letstay here and take care of you for the night. | promise that's all I'll do.” “I don't need you to take care of me,” she muttered weakly as she shook her head, though her face was devoid of color.

At the sight of how frightened she looked, he was seized with the urge to find out who was the b*stard that dared hurt her five years ago. If he managed to track him down, he would make him pay in blood.

“Can you tellmore about what happened that night?” Elliot asked. He wanted to help her get through this, and he didn’t want her to have to shoulder this alone while suppressing the trauma and letting it fester in her.

Anastasia gazed up at the man in front of the bed. The trauma and the bad memories had hollowed her out, and she felt like a shell of herself. When he let go of her, she nudged him like a scared kitten seeking comfort.

Elliot refrained from holding her too tightly, and he kept his movements slow as he leaned forward to kiss her on the top of her head. “It's okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” She closed her eyes tiredly. At the end of the day, she couldn't bring herself to word out the horrific things she had been through.

Finally, she released his arm, and her gaze was calm once more as she said, “You can go hnow. I'll be fine on my own.” MMMWWLIIOIfIO&1 MMMWWLIIOIfIO&1 mmMwWLLIOfiflO& 1 MMMWWLIIOIfIO&1 MULL TO £2 E1061 mmMwWLIiIOfiflO&1