8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
“How are you folks doing tonight? Fancy looking party in there!” Our driver grinned at us from the front seat of the black car, a different man than the one who’d dropped me off. Thankfully, he’d been waiting in the Rover in front of the zoo so we could make a quick escape. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to chase me down.
“Great party, yeah. Just happy to be heading home.”
Thwump.
Mal slammed the car door behind us much harder than necessary. A storm cloud seemed to follow him into the dim interior. Our driver’s brows jumped beneath his black ball cap.
“You good?” I reached over to rub Mal’s arm. He’d been silent and tense during our walk to the car, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. The whole night we’d been floating in some sort of fairy tale, hands all over each other, finally together . And one run-in with my parents had ruined it all. “Mal, I’m sorry about—”
“Do not. Finish. That. Sentence.” The air around him crackled with a type of angry energy I rarely saw from him. He was Dr. Do-Right. He preached patience, empathy, and understanding. Now, though, the muscles in his jaw clenched. “The only thing you should apologize for is how you…minimize yourself for them.” He rocked back, flattening his body onto the seat as the car pulled away from the curb.
“Mal—”
“You are smart and vibrant and kind and beautiful. There is nothing about you that needs to be smaller. Nothing. Especially not for those people.” His tone, his words, were so intense I had to look away. Our driver also averted his eyes as he wove into traffic, cranking the radio up a few dials to give us a semblance of privacy.
Mal sighed, reaching up to tangle one of my hands in his. “This is coming out all wrong. I’m not mad at you—”
“You’re mad at them. I know. And I…appreciate that.” I love you for that. For standing by my side when I can’t seem to get on my own two feet when my parents are around. I bit my lip to keep the confession in, even though my heart was swelling up like a balloon.
He lifted our hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across my knuckles before resting our entwined fingers on his thigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“That’s alright. It wasn’t even a snap.” Mal and I had been friends for two years, and our emotions tended to run hot around each other. It was hardly the first time one of us had gotten angry with the other.
My thumb stroked his wrist. I wanted to calm him and simultaneously assure myself that he was here and real and mine . I’d wanted him for so long, and now here he was, holding my hand like he’d never let go? Getting pissed off on my behalf and calling me vibrant? It felt like a dream. The confrontation with my parents slid to the back of my mind as I looked at him.
“I also didn’t mean to slam the door so hard.” Mal looked up at the driver. “Sorry about that.”
Our driver waved him off. “All good, buddy.”
“Yeah, all good,” I echoed, rubbing my free hand against his arm, remembering the hundreds of times I’d wanted to do something similar and hadn’t been able to. I relished it now. “Had some big feelings there, huh?”
He rolled his head to the side to give me a dry look. “I hate that they don’t see you the way I see you. I know it hurts you, and that makes me want to murder them.”
“Metaphorically, of course. Manslaughter is illegal.”
“Murder, Kitten, implies intent. I would definitely intend it.”
“Do we think talking about offing my parents is killing the mood a little bit? You know I’m down for a lot of things, but this might cross a line.”
Mal grimaced, sliding his hand down his face before reaching over to smooth the fabric of my skirt over my thigh. A shimmer of heat followed where his fingers trailed. “I cannot believe I finally get to touch you and it’s getting derailed by your fucking parents.”
If only he knew. Maybe I had a lot of practice at compartmentalizing, or maybe I was just used to dealing with their demands, but either way, I was ready to move on to a different topic of conversation.
“Not derailed. I bet you can get us back on track.”
Mal’s dark eyes went nearly black, illuminated by the passing street lights. “Take your dress off and we’ll see how well I can do.”
As soon as the growled suggestion left his lips, an awkward, sputtering throat clearing sounded from the front of the car. I caught the driver’s sheepish look in the rearview mirror while he turned the volume on the radio up a few more notches. Mal’s hand scrubbed down his face again. Poor thing.
“Sorry,” he murmured, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “That was out of line. Do you want to talk about it? Them? I know seeing them can throw you off, do you—”
I pressed a finger to his lips. They were so soft. There were hundreds, thousands of things I preferred he do with his mouth other than discuss the two people who hated me most in the world. “I don’t want to talk about it. Yes, it was horrible timing to see them and yes, it threw me off. But that’s a problem for tomorrow. Tonight,” I slid our hands higher, brushing against the fly of his pants. “I don’t want to think about that.”
Tonight, after keeping my feelings—my lust—under lock and key for months, I didn’t want to waste a single minute concentrating on anything other than him .
“Rija,” Mal sighed, cupping my cheek. “You were very brave back there. I know how hard it must be to walk away from them like that. I love your strength.”
“I am very strong. For instance, I can probably support my own body weight for a really long time, if we were to get into any adventurous positions back at your place.”
His eyes closed, and he whispered my name again, a fond admonishment slipping through the beginnings of his smile. “You’re going to be the death of me. I’m going to have to bend you over the couch later.”
Despite his quiet tone, our driver let out another strangled cough, cranking the dial on the radio again. I bit my lip, stifling a giggle at Mal’s mortified look.
“Shit, I’m sorry. This is going all wrong,” he whispered. I could just make it out over the music.
“It’s not all wrong. Kiss me.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth. The heat that had been steadily burning between us all night caught again. Every nerve ending in my body lit up in response to his thumb raking across my bottom lip.
“Not in public.” Even as he said no, everything else about him said yes. The way he leaned closer, the way his fingers squeezed mine even more. The quick, almost imperceptible uptick of his breath.
“We’re not in public, and that guy already knows you plan on bending me over the couch later.” I paused for a beat, tongue darting out to lick the pad of his thumb. He was close to me, leaning over into my space. I heard him groan, even over the music. “Couch, huh? Interesting choice.”
“Couch is…” he swallowed, shifting in his seat. A quick glance down confirmed he was sporting an impressive erection. My blood pulsed hot. Tonight, it was all for me. I’d get to touch him, feel him. Suddenly, that was all that mattered. “Couch is like fourth choice.”
“I want to hear your top three.” My leg slid over his knee, allowing me to sink further into him. The closer I got, the closer I wanted to be. A few more inches and I’d practically be in his lap.
“Bed,” he rasped, leaning closer to drag his nose along my jaw. Goosebumps raised on my legs. “Shower. Balcony. I’ll make you come while you’re looking out at the…city…”
His words echoed in the split-second of dead air before the radio rolled into the next beat.
Our driver winced, looking as uncomfortable as Mal did. “Only so much I can do in between the songs, man.”
A cackle of laughter burst out of me before I stifled it with my hand over my mouth.
While my body shook, I felt Mal plant his hands on my hips and haul me across the leather bench seat, pushing me as far away as I could get. I was so wound up over him, I’d forgotten about seatbelts.
“I’m so sorry. I’m not usually like this,” Malachi assured our driver, pointing a finger at me when I tried to scoot back towards the middle. “You! Stay over there. I can’t think when you’re…” His fingers rippled in my direction, “there.”
On his side of the car, Mal’s face was beet-red, chest heaving. I made a big show of clicking my seatbelt around my torso. Only for the car to slow to a stop in front of my apartment building.
Or, now, our apartment building.
As of today, Mal had officially moved in upstairs. I sank my teeth into my lip as I climbed out of the car, trying to keep a massive grin from spreading over my face. I peered up at floors and floors of sleek glass and concrete while Mal leaned over the passenger window to talk with the driver.
Mal lived here now, just an elevator ride away. The thought sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. Soon, Sonia would be back in Chicago and we could tell her that things had…changed between us. Because they would. Soon. Tonight. Right now.
I wondered how fast that elevator could go.
“You.” Mal turned to glare at me, stuffing something into his breast pocket while the Rover rolled away into the night. He gave me that warning finger again. The stare. The voice. Yet, his eyes were hot, mouth quirked in the sexiest smile I’d ever seen. “You are nothing but trouble. How come you climb all over me and I’m the one who looks like a degenerate?”
“You are a degenerate. For me,” I purred, tip-toeing closer. Oh, my God, we were so close to my apartment. His apartment. Anyone’s apartment! In, like, five minutes flat, I was going to be fully naked with Malachi Dobrev. My little heart couldn’t take it. It was hammering so hard, people could probably see my throbbing pulse up in space.
Barring the unfortunate encounter with my parents, the night had been perfect. How he’d held me, the way our hands were never far from each other. Touching him, being with him, calling him mine…it was everything I’d dreamed of for so long. I even loved that there was a random driver somewhere in the city who knew we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
I was done waiting. I wanted him now.
“Come on, Kitten.” His voice was jagged, gaze so hot, I knew he was thinking the same. He offered me his palm. It was warm and strong as it enveloped mine. “Hands only,” he ground out, pulling me inside and towards the elevators. We passed by two of the building’s security guards in a rush. “I don’t need some security video of me ripping your dress off showing up on TMZ.”
“Because it’s bad for your sensitive, respectful image?”
“Because I’m the only one who gets to see your tits.”
I was used to his words, of course. He used them on me all the time when he was trying to make me come. Now, with his apartment only a few seconds away, hearing him say something like that took hot to a whole new level.
“Malachi.” I whispered as the elevator doors shut, enclosing us together. The car felt sweltering. Sweat shone on Mal’s brow. I wasn’t the only one feeling the heat.
“One-six-five-zero,” he murmured, staring at my mouth.
“Huh…?” Had I forgotten how to speak English? Was my brain melting in a puddle of wanton lust? I stepped closer the second he slid away to the corner of the elevator. If it weren’t for the hand he raised between us, I would have already jumped him.
Mal cleared his throat, gaze raking down my dress. “One-six-five-zero. I live in the penthouse. You need a code to get in. Can you remember that?” He dragged his eyes away from me with visible effort, keying the code into the pad and pressing the P button. My stomach lurched as the car rose.
“I won’t remember that.” I was too busy mentally licking his throat. My feet, without any direction from my brain, stepped closer. My gold heels clicked on the elevator tile.
“You should stay over there, Kitten.” Even as he said it, the hand he held between us flexed, reaching for me, grasping, as if his body was no longer under his control, either. His fingers were hot, nearly scorching. Or maybe that was just the insane attraction between us, fizzing on our skin like a chemical reaction. We were going to be explosive.
“I don’t want to stay over here anymore.”
“Then don’t.” He pulled me closer. The lapels of his jacket slid against my chest. He was wearing too many layers. My fingers slipped inside, smoothing over the starched fabric of his shirt. His heart was beating as quickly as mine.
“You’re very agreeable.” My hand worked lower, undoing the buttons of his jacket. Peeling away at least one of those layers.
“I’m weak. Anything you want, Rija. Anything.” His head ducked down closer, breath blowing the loose curls at my shoulders.
As the elevator chimed and he backed me out of it, all I could see were his onyx eyes gleaming in the dim light of the apartment. I didn’t pause to look at the room around me, the floor, his new place.
He was sucking up all my attention. All my oxygen, even. I barely had time to draw in a gasp when my shoulder blades came up against a wall.
And then Malachi Dobrev was kissing me the way I’d wanted him to for months. Years, even. He didn’t go slowly. At the first brush, his lips ravished mine, tongue demanding entrance into my mouth. He groaned when I granted it. The first taste of him on my lips nearly buckled my knees.
Malachi. Malachi. Malachi. His name was a chant in my head. The only thing my poor, delirious synapses and brain cells could hold on to while every brush of his mouth reverberated throughout my body.
“Christ, Rija,” he cursed into my mouth, his gratuitous, satisfied moan like fresh air in my lungs. We’d both been waiting for this for too long. We fell on each other like we were ravenous. My fingers speared into his hair, gripped his jaw. He tilted for me as he pulled my hips closer, slanting more of his mouth across mine. His tongue thrust harder inside, lapping.
I arched, and we both groaned at the feel of my breasts pressing against his chest. He was so hard, muscled everywhere that I was soft and pliant. A perfect fit, like I’d always known we’d be.
“I need…” He grunted, pulling the strap of my dress down, the loose fabric gave way easily to his onslaught. His breath caught when my breast spilled free. He stared, as enchanted as I was at the sight of his palm cupping the soft weight. His fingers were dark against my pale skin. Callouses rasped against the sensitive mound.
“Mal, please,” I whimpered. My fingers closed around his, lifting, offering. Needing. How many nights had I laid awake thinking about his hands on my breasts? His mouth?
His breath caught while he lunged down to suck the hardened nub into his mouth, as if I’d said the thought out loud. The hot, sweet pull of his lips speared pure pleasure through me, sending heat straight between my legs, making me cry out.
He moaned at the sound, pulling away and looking at me with wild, crazed eyes. His pupils were blown, mouth open to suck down heaving breaths before he was on me again. Lips on lips, so perfect and hot and right that I nearly cried out again.
“Fuck.”
I’d hardly registered his curse before his palm wrapped around the back of my thighs and suddenly I was airborne.
“Fuck!” I repeated, the squeaking peel of my voice a ridiculous contrast to his low growl. My arms looped around his neck as he pounded, purposeful, down the hall.
I caught a brief glimpse of a massive living room, boxes and furniture strewn around. The blown glass pendent lights over the kitchen island were on, casting a warm, orangey glow over the place.
“That’s the idea, yes.” His fingers clenched on my ass, supporting me with one arm while he tore at his shirt buttons with the other. It was a breathtaking show of coordination, not to mention strength. I was happy with my body but…I wasn’t exactly hitting up the guest room/pilates studio on a daily basis.
“Mal, you’re going to drop me.” White walls sped by in my periphery on one side, the twinkling lights of Chicago on the other. How big was this place? He ducked through a doorway.
“Yes,” he agreed again. And then I was free-falling, reeling for the half-second it took for my back to hit the mattress. By the time I’d scrambled to my elbows, Mal’s shirt was off and he was working on his pants. “Get naked, Kitten. Now. Please.”
His “please” was an afterthought, squeezed out on the tail end of his rushed, desperate words. It made me grin, even as I reached back towards my zipper with trembling hands. This was happening, this was happening, right now. I was in his bedroom and this was happening.
The zipper slid down. I yanked the straps down my shoulders and stood.
His hands stilled on his own clothes, eyes blazing. As the dress slid down my body, collapsing in a fall of red silk to pile at my feet on the wood floor, his eyes snapped across my skin. Neck, breasts, stomach, thighs.
Then his hands were on me, hauling me to him. We both gasped. The feel of his body against mine was overwhelming. After so long merely imagining what he’d feel like against me, the reality was almost more than I could handle.
Heat swept through me, following wherever his hands roamed. He was rough and reverent at the same time. The contrast was yet another detail that overloaded my brain. I knew he could be sweet. I knew he could be rough. I hadn’t realized he could be both at the same time.
The only thing I could do was reciprocate, lavishing him with my touch. I was greedy, clutching and grabbing, running hungry fingers across the defined muscles of his stomach, his arms, his jaw.
“Rija, your hands on me…” He groaned, the sound cut off when his mouth met mine again, his sucking pulls echoing between my legs. Another wave of pleasure made me shiver, more slickness flooding. Our hands were feverish. Everywhere all at once—arms tangling, lips and teeth and heat.
Maybe we’d go out like this. Together, in a blaze of desire.
He palmed my ass, bunching the soft fabric of my seamless panties. “Off,” he whispered into my mouth.
“You too,” I gasped, my hand reaching down into his open pants. His groan sounded pained, hands shaking just as much as mine as he shoved his pants and briefs down in one swift move. I wrapped my fingers around his length. Finally.
He was soft and steel-hard. I pumped once down to the root before his hand caught my wrist.
“Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” He pushed me gently back onto the bed. I bounced when I sat, eyeing the expanse of his chest in front of me. “Fuck,” he repeated when I licked up the center. He tasted like salt and limes.
“This is going to be fast.” His words were glass over gravel, voice harsh and glittering as he pulled my underwear down.
When he found my center, I jerked, a full-body spasm. “Yes! Yes, please. Fast.”
He groaned, fingers gliding up and down, aided by the overflowing wetness of my slit. “So, so fast, I’m sorry, Kitten.” Even as he apologized, he shoved my legs apart, climbing higher to line his cock up with where I needed him. The first brush of the head against me nearly made me come. I cried out, struggling to pull air into my body.
We were going too fast, too slow. I wanted it to last forever. I wanted it to be over now so I could know what it felt to come with him touching me, inside me.
He groaned, burying his head in the crook of my neck as he slid inside an inch at a time. I was so wet, he entered easily. Still, he pulled back once, slid in further.
And it was over. The stretch, the delicious feel of his skin against mine, the mind-blowing pleasure of it all, months and months of needing his hands on me. All of it crystalized at once, then fragmented. His name exploded from my lips in a scream, toes curling as my orgasm ripped through me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I could only feel.
Him, above me, hips pumping in and out. My core twisted, legs gripping his hips as he rode me through my climax. It crested in a wildfire. All I could do was jerk and shudder and moan when his fingers reached down to rub my clit.
The rushing in my ears subsided, though my body was still riding the high he fueled. I was still coming. Or maybe he just felt that good inside me. An eternal orgasm.
“So good, Ri. Don’t want it to stop.” He abandoned my clit, gripping my thigh, holding me open as his hips snapped against mine faster and faster. “Wanted this for so long, Kitten.”
“Malachi,” I mewled, still drowning in the feeling of his body.
He groaned, eyes meeting mine. “My name. Say it again, Ri. While I fuck you.”
“Malachi,” I gasped, again and again. He thrust so hard I inched up the mattress. He looped his arm around my waist, hanging onto me.
He looked pained, panting. “Rija, it’s…everything.” His eyes squeezed shut, and he came with a shout. His thrusts turned jerky, spearing me in a primal, unconscious rhythm that set me off again. I screamed, pussy gripping him, pulling at the warm pulses I felt inside me.
He kept pumping, groaning my name and how good it was and gibberish I somehow still understood about him and me and us and perfect . Finally, he slowed, grunting and panting while he still slid in and out of my sensitive folds, like he couldn’t bring himself to stop. I didn’t want him to. Even while my body came down from my high, my muscles starting to protest how tightly I was wrapped around him, I wanted him again.
He groaned my name, ragged, as he finally collapsed over me, holding his weight on his elbows.
His breath was hot against my collarbone, chest heaving in time with mine. Even in this incredible aftermath, the feel of him against me, his skin on mine, felt like a miracle. My hands couldn’t stop moving against him, roaming the broad expanse of his back, cradling his face while I pressed my lips across his hairline.
After another moment, he rolled to his side, pulling me with him. We both winced when he slid out. He stroked a hand down my face.
“Was I too rough? I felt like I couldn’t control—”
“It was perfect.” I pressed my lips against his, the chaste pecks turning into long, leisurely kisses. He hummed when I pressed closer to him, tangling my leg between his. “It was perfect, Mal.”
His forehead rested against mine. We stayed like that while our breathing evened and my mind spun around the fact that I was here with him, like this.
He lay next to me, seemingly as dazed as I was. At one point, he started whispering about getting a towel to clean me up, only to settle back onto the bed, tucking the sheets around us when I begged him not to leave. I felt like I couldn’t be parted from him for a second.
I must have dozed. The next thing I knew, I was arching into his stroking fingers on my neck.
“I’m sorry, Kitten. I need you again.”
I smiled while he covered my face in kisses. “Don’t apologize.”
“Are you sore?” His hand was already traveling down my body, pausing to brush against my tightening nipples. When he reached the spot between my legs, he found the wetness still there, easing his way in. He was so gentle, stroking softly.
“Not sore enough.”
Our eyes met in the dark, the city lights outside the window illuminating us. He swallowed, a smile tried to draw across his lips and didn’t quite make it. “Sounds like a challenge.”
I swept a lock of hair back from his forehead, arching. Already he was rolling us, fitting himself at my entrance. “More like a request,” I murmured, gasping at the feel of him pressing inside.
The need I felt for him defied logic. How could I want him this much, like I was dying for him, when I’d just been sleeping in his arms? The stark hunger on his face reflected my own feelings back at me. His eyes were edged with something like wariness or acceptance.
“Rija.” My name whispered from his lips, but I heard more than just my name. When he eased in and out, careful, despite my telling him I wasn’t hurt, I felt more than just the friction of his cock inside me. When he finally moaned, breaking his gentle pumping for faster, feverish fucking, there was more than just desire rising up from my core.
I bit my lip to stop it from spilling out. The love I had for this man, the incredible, incandescent alive-ness I felt from being in his arms. It flowed from my eyes instead, and I came with tears streaming down my face. He kissed them away, murmuring my name and beautiful nonsense and how he felt it, too.