Chapter 16
16
N ot a single staff member was to be seen anywhere as they boarded the yacht. It was clear Armaan had requested for privacy. He led her straight to his bedroom. In a single move, he shut the door, pushed her against the wall and held her hands above her head. A thrill ran down her as she realized that his control had snapped. Finally.
His hot eyes searched her face before his mouth slammed against hers in a fierce kiss. Her lips opened, allowing him entry, and he swooped inside, staking control of her tongue. Heat sizzled against her skin, and her stomach somersaulted at the way his mouth was assaulting hers, demanding, taking, never stopping. His one hand held her hands in a tight grip while his other hand roamed down her curves, slowly, as if learning her shape. She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t move even if she wanted to. She was a slave to him and his demands.
Before she knew it, he’d unzipped her dress and pulled it off her. Since the dress had built-in cups, she stood in front of him only in her pink panties and her heels. His eyes darkened some more as he took her in.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he rasped. His hands roamed across her shoulders, her skin soft under his hard, calloused hands. He captured her breasts in his palms, and a fractured moan escaped her lips. Her eyes drifted close.
He tipped her chin up. “Eyes on me. I want you to watch what I do to you.”
She swallowed thickly, nodding.
He squeezed her breasts, playing with the tips of her nipples. Muffled sounds escaped her lips, and liquid fire burned in her core. She was awash with need.
“You belong to me…” He scraped a finger down her nipple and she whimpered. “Say the words, Navya.”
“I…”
He scraped a nail down her other nipple, and she gasped. She was losing control of herself.
“I…” she attempted again. “I…”
He put his mouth on her breast and sucked. Hard. Fast. And then he lifted his head and cocked a brow. “Say it. Or I will stop.”
“I… belong to you… Armaan,” she said.
A corner of his lips tipped. He went back to sucking her breast, while his hand squeezed the other one. Her head spun with the way his hands and mouth worked over her. He moved to the other breast, licking, sucking, laving. He bit her nipple, and her head fell back. Lust slammed inside her. God, she wanted him. How she ached for him.
He drew her against him, resting her back to his chest, one hand squeezing her breast, his mouth sucking the base of her neck, and his other hand roaming down her stomach.
“Look in the mirror,” he whispered against her neck. “Watch as I make you lose your mind.”
She looked ahead and saw their reflection in the wall-length mirror. It was electrifying to see him fully clothed while she was practically nude. A sharp craving filled her. Her body began to hum. She watched as he continued to pleasure one breast with his hand, while his other dipped into the waistband of her panties, disappearing inside. She heard his rumble of pleasure against her throat as his fingers found her wet for him. His hardness pressed into her backside and she moaned. One long finger entered her heat, and she was lost.
Random sounds escaped her mouth, her head fell back against his shoulder, and still she watched, helpless, as he continued to play with her body. Heat coiled inside her as his finger dipped in and out of her. She rocked her body back and forth to his tune. It was all too much; she saw and felt too much. His erection pressing into her bottom, his finger inside her, his hand squeezing her breast, his lips sucking at her neck.
Her knees weakened; her legs felt like jelly. Only his hold on her kept her upright. Another finger joined the first and scissored in and out of her, faster, harder. Heat pooled in her belly. Armaan curved his fingers inside her, his thumb pressing her sweet spot, and with the other hand, he pinched her nipple. She cried out, her eyes closing.
“Don’t shut your eyes,” he ordered. “See how I make you feel.”
The woman in the mirror looked flushed, eyes wide, hair mussed, lips parted, and her breaths heavy as she rode the waves of ecstasy rippling down her.
“Look at you,” Armaan whispered in her ear. “So stunning. So mine.”
A shiver rolled down her at his hot words. She’d barely taken a breath when Armaan laid her on the bed and removed her panties. He kneeled down on the floor. She read the intent clearly in his mischievous, sparkling eyes. He was far from done with her.
Armaan spread her legs, put his mouth at her core, and then, he began to devour her. The heat that had barely cooled sprung to life again, making her hotter, wetter, needier. Her heart thudded and her mind blanked as he drove her to the edge again. Only when she was a writhing, whimpering mess did he slide a finger inside her, attacking her with both, his hands and mouth.
“Please, Armaan…” she gasped. “I can’t breathe.”
But he was relentless.
“I need you, Armaan, now, please,” she breathed.
Finally, he released her to stand up.
She leaned on her elbows, watching him as he undressed himself. Her skin tightened and her mouth watered a little more with every article of clothing that he tossed aside. And then he stood in front of her, in all his naked glory. Her eyes ran over him, taking in his muscled shoulders, his broad chest, those deliciously sharp abs, and then that part of him that stood hard and erect for her. A new sense of possessiveness washed over her. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid her eyes on, and he was all hers. Only hers.
Armaan wore a condom and crawled on top of her. He crushed her lips under his and sparks exploded in her blood. He pressed his hard erection to her core, and she liquefied. God, this need, this craving within her was raging out of control. Armaan was devouring her, his lips moving sinuously across hers, like he was consuming her. And she wanted to be consumed by him.
Positioning himself at her core, he looked into her eyes. She gave him a small nod, and he thrust inside her, all the way to the hilt. She yelped, her eyes shutting as a sharp, stinging pain overwhelmed her. Armaan stilled.
He wiped the corner of her eye. “It’s fine. You will be fine, I promise.”
His gentle words soothed her.
“I need a moment,” she whispered.
His throat bobbed. “Take all the time you need, moya milaya .”
He pressed a kiss to her lips again, snaking his tongue inside her mouth and stroking it against hers. A second later, a rush of heat melted her core. She shifted, and he slid deeper into her.
Armaan groaned, touching his head to hers.
“You can move…” she said, understanding how hard he was controlling himself for her. “I’m fine.”
She kissed him then, wrapping her arms around him. And then he began to move inside her, slowly at first, his eyes never leaving hers. Only when he saw that she wasn’t in pain and that she was writhing under him, did he begin to thrust harder and move faster.
Need ravaged her. Her whole body began to shake and quiver. A wave of sensation started from the tips of her toes and began to spread down every inch of her. She was moving with him now, needing the friction of his body with hers. Armaan pressed a thumb to her sweet spot, and that pleasurable wave of sensation became a tsunami. It took her over. A rainbow of colors exploded behind her eyes as her body shook and shook under his.
Armaan’s strokes became wilder, like he’d completely lost control. His thrusts became harder, and a second later, he roared her name as he stilled inside her.
Moments later, he shifted to the side and stared at her, his breathing as ragged as hers. What had happened between them had been profound. It had been too powerful, it had been earth shattering, and it had been rather overwhelming to put into words. Her eyes wouldn’t stop drinking him in, her heart rate wouldn’t slow down, and her body demanded that she throw herself back in his arms, breathe him in, and simply hold him… to never let go.
He caressed her cheek. “I feel the same, baby.”
Her breath hitched. How did he read her so correctly all the time? She licked her dry lips. Armaan pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Her heart melted at how gentle he was with her always.
She shut her eyes. Her emotions were too high, and she was too confused by everything that she was feeling for him in this moment. This man wasn’t supposed to be the one for her. He wasn’t supposed to make her feel so much. But he did; he had since the first day she’d met him. She realized with startling clarity that the only reason she had rejected him in the past, that she had fought with herself to keep him at bay, was because she was scared of what he might make her feel. And sure enough, she felt so much.
When she opened her eyes, Armaan was fast asleep. She ran her hand through his mussed hair. Her stomach pitched. She’d slept with Armaan Oshnov. He’d wanted her here like this with him since the first time he’d met her. And she’d finally done it—given him that one night—rather an afternoon—in his bed. She’d fulfilled her end of the deal with him.
When they had started this, he’d told her he wanted to date her, but he hadn’t put a timeline on it. Which meant she could leave right now. All she had to do was get up, dress up and leave.
Already, she felt so much for him. Perhaps, ending this now, before it became something she couldn’t escape, was the smartest thing to do. She climbed out of bed, her steps faltering. Why did she feel as if she’d be making a mistake in leaving him? That if she did this, she’d end up losing something vital. An ache bloomed in her chest. She pressed a hand to it. Leaving him ought to be easy. She’d told him that she’d never fall for him. She’d told herself she’d never fall in love with anyone ever, then why was it so Goddamn hard to leave him?
She turned and stared at him for a long moment before walking away.