Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Astra
After the serious talk died down, he actually stayed and told me to start a movie.
Donovan Falco is watching a movie with me.
Sure, he’s stiff and sitting in the corner of the little couch as if he’s afraid to even quickly graze a part of me.
I’m curled up with the soft, fuzzy blanket he got me when I started to shiver about ten minutes ago.
I love keeping the windows open because the fresh air carries the scent of the city into my room, but I do get cold.
I could put on more clothes, but really, why should I?
I’m perfectly comfortable in this tee and tiny lounge shorts.
I don’t like feeling suffocated by clothes, especially when I’m lounging around or sleeping.
This is… nice.
My belly is full of food—that is fit for a toddler, apparently.
I’m happy. I realize it’s been a long time since I felt this way.
Donovan might have made fun of me for the things I like to eat, but he listened.
He remembered. It would seem that such information came in handy when he needed to grovel.
Oh, and grovel he did.
It’s hard not to smile at the memory that isn’t even that old.
Seeing him nervous and at a loss for words, but still trying his best, made me feel like a victorious queen.
It may not have been my intention when I stormed out on him last night and refused to talk to him all day, but I can say I like the outcome.
I lock my jaw and pull my lips tight as I bite back a yawn. I didn’t sleep much last night because I was so worked up over the asshole beside me. My head is still spinning with how quickly the nice dinner took a nosedive at the end, crashing and burning around me so splendidly.
Now that I understand it from his end a little more, I can’t hate him. I’m still hurt. I still feel stupid for trusting him. The things he’d said when he didn’t think I could hear him felt like an arrow to the chest.
He’s only keeping me around because of the curse. He doesn’t actually want anything to do with me.
But what did I expect?
He was my first, but that doesn’t automatically equal love. Which is fine. I’m just now experiencing the world for the first time, and I have a lot of things I want to explore and figure out on my own.
I’m attracted to him, sure, but I don’t love him.
I’m not completely sure how I feel about him beyond that.
There is this pull I can’t explain, and probably don’t want to.
I’ve tried to brush it off many times because it’s clear the man doesn’t feel the same way back.
And that’s fine. Really. I don’t want this stupid curse thing to make either of us clingy in this situation. It’s already weird enough as it is.
I attempt to stifle another yawn, but this one breaks free, and my jaw cracks as I stretch it to the max.
I feel his gaze on me as my eyes water from the strong yawn. If I don’t look at him, maybe I don’t have to acknowledge how tired I really am. I want this moment. I want to enjoy the first movie we watch together. It might be our only movie together.
And, yeah, I realize how desperate that sounds. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m one love-sick puppy. I swear I’m not. I just think there’s more to this man, and I feel like I’m close to seeing it. It’s a hit that I can’t pass up.
He doesn’t say anything. I go on, pretending like I’m not two seconds away from passing out. It takes all my energy to keep my eyes open.
It’s a battle I don’t win.
I don’t know how long I’ve been looking at the back of my eyelids when I feel a shift, and then I’m floating through the air. I pry my eyes open so I can see his face. He’s carrying me to the bed. I moan because I can’t form words yet. I must have really been out.
“You can’t make those noises and expect me to walk out of this room,” he mutters so low it makes me think he didn’t really mean for me to hear. He doesn’t know I’m awake enough to know what’s going on.
His deep tone and the way I can feel the words rattle in his chest like a growl do things to me that I can’t ignore.
Being half-asleep is not the time to make good decisions.
But when did making good decisions get me anywhere?
Okay, fine. Making bad ones got me into a cursed mess and teetering on the verge of death, but who’s counting?
“Donovan,” I say as he lays me out on the bed.
His eyes snap to mine, and if I were more alert, I’d laugh at the way his brow goes up in surprise.
“Sleep.” His face is so close I can feel his breath ghosting over my lips.
“Donovan,” I whisper, my heavy lids closing.
“Sleep, My Beauty.”
I hum as I feel my mouth curl up in a smile.
I wish he wasn’t so sweet. No, I wish that I could hold onto these sweet moments. Wish I had more of them. I’d never take them for granted, that’s for sure.
I don’t even second-guess myself as I reach out. My hand is on the back of his head, and I’m pulling him down.
His lips brush over mine, and I don’t even think as I pull him into a kiss. It doesn’t take long before the feral beast inside of him rises up. He’s kissing me back hard. I open up when his tongue runs along the seam of my lips. I welcome the invasion and tangle my tongue with his.
I’m awake now. I feel like a shot of life has just been poured into my bloodstream.
“I’m not tired,” I tell him. I’m met with lust and desire when I look into his eyes.
Is this a good idea? Eh, probably not. He’s so hot and cold. It may be quite warm in here now, but I’m not dumb enough to believe there won’t be a cold front to follow. At least I know, and I can prepare myself. I won’t greet the morning with hope, that’s for sure.
“Astra.” He says my name like a warning and a plea at the same time. His hand slips around the back of my head, his fingers tangling almost painfully in my hair. I’m pulled into reality, and I know what I’m asking. I know what I want. I know what I’m begging him for.
“Donovan.” I say his name strong and stern, an answer to the questions in his eyes.
That’s all it takes. He tilts my head back and takes my lips with a hunger that tells me he won’t turn back.
Just the thing I want. My hands tug at the buttons of his shirt with frustration, and I contemplate just ripping it off.
His lips stay glued to mine as we both work to release buttons from their holds.
He tears his shirt off, and in the time he releases my mouth, I reach down and pull my shirt up and over my head.
His eyes light up at the sight of my bare breasts.
I fall back against the pillows, eating up every second that his eyes greedily take me in. He doesn’t stop looking at me even as he shucks his pants. Now it’s my turn to stare as his thick, veiny hardness is freed.
I reach for it, needing to feel how silky it is against my hand.
He lets me run my fingertips down it before he snatches my wrist. I lose the air in my lungs as he hovers over me, both of my wrists now pinned down above my head.
My legs part. His pelvis settles against me.
I swear I can feel his hardness pulsing and twitching between us.
My core clenches. I feel empty and needy as I rock against him.
“Oh, Astra,” he says, voice deep and raspy. I’m staring into his eyes, and I can see the monster inside of him. It’s right there, close to the surface. It’s dark and destructive. It’s going to ruin me if it hasn’t already. I can’t resist its pull, and I don’t want to.
I want Donovan Falco to wreck me. I want him to ruin me. I want to be split open and left raw and exposed.
I know what I’m asking for. But how do I say the words?
“I don’t think you understand what’s about to happen,” he tells me.
He releases my wrists, but I don’t move my arms. My lids are heavy as his hand closes around my neck.
My hips rock without my permission, and I’m rewarded with the slightest squeeze of my throat until I stop. “Mmm. You’re being so good for me.”
My body shudders. He chuckles at me. I can’t hide how much I want him. Even if I could tame my reaction, if his other hand keeps traveling south, my soaked panties will give me away.
He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. Even the way he bears his teeth is sexy. Very animalistic. He’s going to gobble me up, and I’m going to let him.
“Astra, Astra, Astra.” He shakes his head as a smirk takes over his lips. It’s almost sinister. My heart is racing. Is he scolding me? Should I be ashamed? Have I made him happy?
Ugh!
I don’t care! I just need him to touch me.
I gasp when he pushes his thick finger inside of me. It’s tight, but I’m so wet that the middle digit slips in with ease.
With one hand on my throat and the other in my panties, he begins to bring me to the edge. My body is shaking as I try to rock against his hand, but every time I do, that hand tightens around my throat a fraction more. My neck is tilted back, welcoming the touch without words.
A second finger slips inside me. I’m panting so loud it’s the only thing filling my ears.
“Beauty, you’re so tight.” His voice sends shivers down my spine.
“I’ve spent days remembering how well you fit me.
How fucking tight your pussy clenched around me.
I’ve fucked my fist thinking about how warm and wet you were for me, and now…
” His fingers curl, brushing over that spot that makes sparks fly behind my closed lids.
“Are you going to be good for me, Astra? Are you going to come on my fingers? You’ll get my cock as soon as you do.
I know you need me to fuck you, and I’ve been dying to be inside of you again. Come, Astra. Come for me.”
“Donovan.” His name rushes out of my mouth in a harsh breath. I’m near begging. I want to come for him. I want to so bad.