His Private Hell - Chapter 39: Chapter 39
You are reading His Private Hell, Chapter 39: Chapter 39. Read more chapters of His Private Hell.
The elevator doors whispered shut behind her like a mouth sealing a secret. Eella clutched the folder tighter, her pulse thrumming with something more than anticipation. The hallway on the 33rd floor was dim, tastefully minimal, and completely silent—except for the hum of unseen cameras and the hush of her heels against the marble.
She was breaking the first rule.
No one was allowed up here.
But he had sent for her.
The heavy black door at the end loomed like a verdict. There was no nameplate. No markings. Just a sensor that blinked once when she reached it. Then—click. Unlocked.
She hesitated only a second before stepping into his world.
The office was vast, shadowed, and unlike any part of Ally’s Inc. It felt like stepping into a mind—his mind—designed in grayscale. Steel and glass. Dark woods. Stark art. But warm, in its own twisted way. Like standing too close to a fire you weren’t sure wouldn’t consume you.
And there he was.
Garrison stood behind the desk in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled, collar undone just enough to show the edge of ink along his collarbone. That tattoo again. The one she hadn’t dared to ask about.
“You came,” he said simply.
“You summoned,” she replied.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Come closer.”
She obeyed, walking with measured calm despite her nerves. Despite how that voice seemed to hook her between her ribs and drag her forward.
“What do you see?” he asked, gesturing around them.
“A room you don’t let anyone into,” she said. “A war bunker in disguise.”
His brow arched. “You’re observant.”
She dropped the folder on his desk. “You’re obsessive.”
For a beat, the air between them stilled. Not tension—something else. Like an animal watching you from the dark. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down.
“You keep breaking rules, Eella.”
“You keep inviting me to.”
Silence again.
Then, slowly, he walked around the desk toward her.
“You think you’ve figured me out.”
“I think you hide behind suits and silence because it’s safer than showing teeth.”
He didn’t stop until he was toe to toe with her. “Do you want to see my teeth, Eella?”
She should have said no. She should have turned and walked out of before it swallowed her whole.
Instead, she said, “I think I already have.”
His hand caught her jaw. Rough. Possessive. Holding her like a thing already claimed.
“You talk like you aren’t afraid of me.”
“I’m not.”
“You should be.”
“I know.”
He kissed her then—not gently. Not sweetly. It was a war of want. A collision of fire and fury. She gasped, and his tongue took it like an invitation. His hand buried in her hair, dragging her closer until her body molded to his, all curves and defiance, pressing against lean muscle and something hard beneath his belt.
“You don’t get to leave after this,” he growled against her lips. “Not until I’m done burning every trace of your past out of you.”
She bit his lip. Hard. “Then light the match.”
The desk behind her caught her spine as he pushed her back, scattering papers, ignoring the protest of fine glass and neat stacks. He swept it all aside with a brutal swipe and hoisted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively.
He didn’t waste time. The zipper on her pencil skirt gave way, the silk blouse torn down the center. He needed her bare, needed her stripped of everything that wasn’t raw and willing. Her bra was tugged down, his mouth closing over a nipple with a groan, teeth and tongue working mercilessly.
“Garrison—” she gasped, arching into him.
He gripped her throat—not to hurt, but to remind. She was his, for now. In this fire, in this hell, there was no safe word.
“Say my name again.”
“Garrison—” she whimpered, and the sound undid something in him.
He dropped to his knees, dragged her panties down her thighs, and spread her legs like he owned the right. His tongue flicked once over her clit and she bucked, gripping the edge of the desk. Her moan echoed like a confession. He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Licked her until she was begging, until her thighs shook, until she said his name like it was a sin and a salvation all in one.
When he stood, her taste still on his mouth, his eyes were wild.
“You think I’m your private sin,” he whispered, pulling open his belt. “But I’m your punishment.”
She kissed him again. Bit his lip. “Then make me bleed for it.”
He didn’t just take her. He possessed her. Bent over the desk, her palms flat against polished wood, her body open and wanting. He slid into her in one hard thrust and she cried out, pleasure crashing through pain in the most exquisite ache. He didn’t go easy. Didn’t ask for permission. He pounded into her like he had something to prove—like she was the only thing keeping the devil inside him at bay.
“You’re mine now,” he growled into her neck. “No one touches you. No one even looks.”
She shattered around him then, the climax ripping through her as he drove deeper, her moans turning frantic.
He followed with a roar, releasing inside her, every muscle tensed like he’d held this back for years. . His secret need.
And in the aftermath, as he held her shaking body against his, sweat and breath mingling in the quiet…
He whispered, “There’s no going back now, Eella.”
She didn’t want to.
Not if this was what hell felt like.
She was breaking the first rule.
No one was allowed up here.
But he had sent for her.
The heavy black door at the end loomed like a verdict. There was no nameplate. No markings. Just a sensor that blinked once when she reached it. Then—click. Unlocked.
She hesitated only a second before stepping into his world.
The office was vast, shadowed, and unlike any part of Ally’s Inc. It felt like stepping into a mind—his mind—designed in grayscale. Steel and glass. Dark woods. Stark art. But warm, in its own twisted way. Like standing too close to a fire you weren’t sure wouldn’t consume you.
And there he was.
Garrison stood behind the desk in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled, collar undone just enough to show the edge of ink along his collarbone. That tattoo again. The one she hadn’t dared to ask about.
“You came,” he said simply.
“You summoned,” she replied.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Come closer.”
She obeyed, walking with measured calm despite her nerves. Despite how that voice seemed to hook her between her ribs and drag her forward.
“What do you see?” he asked, gesturing around them.
“A room you don’t let anyone into,” she said. “A war bunker in disguise.”
His brow arched. “You’re observant.”
She dropped the folder on his desk. “You’re obsessive.”
For a beat, the air between them stilled. Not tension—something else. Like an animal watching you from the dark. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down.
“You keep breaking rules, Eella.”
“You keep inviting me to.”
Silence again.
Then, slowly, he walked around the desk toward her.
“You think you’ve figured me out.”
“I think you hide behind suits and silence because it’s safer than showing teeth.”
He didn’t stop until he was toe to toe with her. “Do you want to see my teeth, Eella?”
She should have said no. She should have turned and walked out of before it swallowed her whole.
Instead, she said, “I think I already have.”
His hand caught her jaw. Rough. Possessive. Holding her like a thing already claimed.
“You talk like you aren’t afraid of me.”
“I’m not.”
“You should be.”
“I know.”
He kissed her then—not gently. Not sweetly. It was a war of want. A collision of fire and fury. She gasped, and his tongue took it like an invitation. His hand buried in her hair, dragging her closer until her body molded to his, all curves and defiance, pressing against lean muscle and something hard beneath his belt.
“You don’t get to leave after this,” he growled against her lips. “Not until I’m done burning every trace of your past out of you.”
She bit his lip. Hard. “Then light the match.”
The desk behind her caught her spine as he pushed her back, scattering papers, ignoring the protest of fine glass and neat stacks. He swept it all aside with a brutal swipe and hoisted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively.
He didn’t waste time. The zipper on her pencil skirt gave way, the silk blouse torn down the center. He needed her bare, needed her stripped of everything that wasn’t raw and willing. Her bra was tugged down, his mouth closing over a nipple with a groan, teeth and tongue working mercilessly.
“Garrison—” she gasped, arching into him.
He gripped her throat—not to hurt, but to remind. She was his, for now. In this fire, in this hell, there was no safe word.
“Say my name again.”
“Garrison—” she whimpered, and the sound undid something in him.
He dropped to his knees, dragged her panties down her thighs, and spread her legs like he owned the right. His tongue flicked once over her clit and she bucked, gripping the edge of the desk. Her moan echoed like a confession. He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Licked her until she was begging, until her thighs shook, until she said his name like it was a sin and a salvation all in one.
When he stood, her taste still on his mouth, his eyes were wild.
“You think I’m your private sin,” he whispered, pulling open his belt. “But I’m your punishment.”
She kissed him again. Bit his lip. “Then make me bleed for it.”
He didn’t just take her. He possessed her. Bent over the desk, her palms flat against polished wood, her body open and wanting. He slid into her in one hard thrust and she cried out, pleasure crashing through pain in the most exquisite ache. He didn’t go easy. Didn’t ask for permission. He pounded into her like he had something to prove—like she was the only thing keeping the devil inside him at bay.
“You’re mine now,” he growled into her neck. “No one touches you. No one even looks.”
She shattered around him then, the climax ripping through her as he drove deeper, her moans turning frantic.
He followed with a roar, releasing inside her, every muscle tensed like he’d held this back for years. . His secret need.
And in the aftermath, as he held her shaking body against his, sweat and breath mingling in the quiet…
He whispered, “There’s no going back now, Eella.”
She didn’t want to.
Not if this was what hell felt like.
End of His Private Hell Chapter 39. Continue reading Chapter 40 or return to His Private Hell book page.