Chapter 20
TWENTY
Astra
I’ve been wandering the house most of the day.
To say my head’s been a mess and I haven’t had enough things to distract me from my thoughts would be an understatement.
I think I’m still trying to process what happened this morning. I went from nearly dying at the hands of Donovan to figuring out I’m a natural-born caster and didn’t even know it.
Then it went completely haywire. I don’t even know how to describe what happened between us, but it felt like the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced.
Just thinking about it makes me blush. And I don’t even think the sexual part of it was the most intimate moment of the encounter.
He let me in. For a brief moment, his guard was down, and he was, for lack of a better word, mine.
All mine.
I had him completely in that moment.
I’m still not sure what to do with it or how to act when I see him again.
Which will be… who knows?
After he held me for a long time, it was like neither of us wanted to be apart.
So he kissed me and I kissed him back. And when he shifted me in his lap until I was straddling him, I took him in slowly, riding him until he snapped.
It wasn’t enough that I was wearing his seed before, he wanted me filled with it. Believe me, I was happy to let him.
When it was all over, he gathered himself and insinuated that he had things he needed to do, effectively shutting down our private moment.
He seemed distracted as he promptly escorted me out of his office, but not before making sure I was fully clothed again.
I wouldn’t even dream of him trusting me enough to leave me in his office unattended.
While I headed down for breakfast, he stayed in his office with Torrin for a couple of hours.
When he finally emerged form his office only to leave the house, he stopped long enough to look at me.
I hadn’t been sure if he was trying to silently communicate with me or daring me to say something. It was very confusing.
Was he angry at me? At himself? Conflicted about what happened this morning? Was he surprised at how things had taken a turn?
Not having the answers has only added to the things I’m stressing out over.
I look out the window. The storm has been raging all day, which has forced me to stay inside. Definitely not helping with the whole walls-are-closing-in-on-me thing. I could really use some fresh air.
I end up in the kitchen, seeing as that is where most of the life in this house seems to be coming from.
“Can I help?” I ask excitedly when Lucille doesn’t look like she’s going to shoo me away immediately. However, I’m not sure what I can really do. I’m not good in the kitchen.
“No,” she says with a serious shake of her head. Did I insult her? “Sit.” She points with a huge chef’s knife at one of the chairs under the expansive kitchen island.
I do as she says with a smile. At least I’m not alone anymore, and maybe she’ll talk to me so I won’t be as bored.
And that’s how I learn a little bit about the woman who has known Donovan as long as Torrin, if not longer.
While she doesn’t tell me any embarrassing stories or talk about the things she’s probably not supposed to talk about, she does leave me with a sense of knowing her.
Of seeing why Donovan has kept her close all these years, and why—whether or not he will admit it—he cares about her.
Donovan arrives back right as I’m starting to feel drained and weak. I can tell it’s affecting him too by the dark circle under his eyes and the grumpy expression on his face. Torrin’s not far behind Donovan, looking irritated and worried.
I feel the tension in the air, and figure it’s best to stay silent as he goes stomping through the house, Torrin nearly his shadow. The moment Donovan notices me sitting at the island in the kitchen, he freezes. The homemade chicken tenders I ate an hour ago feel like lead in my stomach.
His hair hangs in soggy clumps around his face. Water goes flying as he scrapes his hair away from his eyes with one hand.
“I’m going,” Torrin tells Donovan’s back. His eyes connect with mine for a second before he turns to leave.
My attention is drawn back to Donovan.
It’s like nothing in the world exists but me. His eyes bore into me, relief becoming apparent the longer we breathe the same air. The ache in my bones begins to recede, and the bands around my heart ease.
Donovan scoops me up and carries me bridal style out of the room. He smells like tobacco and rain. His skin is cool as I loop my arms around his neck and hold on tight. My side is soaked in an instant. What’s he been up to? How long was he out in the storm?
“I need a shower,” he states as he begins to ascend the stairs.
“And you need me for that?” I tease.
“Yes,” he says plainly, causing me to roll my eyes, even as I hold on tighter.
“Just because I let you lick me and then slept with you doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you,” I tell him frankly.
The shock flashes over his face so fast I nearly miss it, but I don’t, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
He hums, but it sounds closer to an unhappy grunt.
His brow stays furrowed until we hit the second-floor landing. I want to pat myself on the back in victory at how I’ve been able to throw him off a little.
“Right. Yeah,” he says with a shake of his head. It takes a long moment for his eyes to drag over to meet mine again, and when they do, I’m not sure what I’m seeing there.
Lightning flashes, making shadows dance on the walls around us.
His steps don’t hesitate as he turns and heads for his bedroom.
When we make it to the bathroom attached to his bedroom, he sets me down on the edge of the vanity.
His eyes pin me in place as he strips off his soaked suit jacket.
It lands with a wet plop on the floor, but neither of us bothers to give it any attention.
He closes in, and his hands press down on the counter on either side of me.
There’s an inch of air between our faces.
My breath catches at the openness in his eyes.
“Then… what does it mean?” he asks, his voice sounding low and raspy as if it had been a little hard for him to get the words out.
Well, I hadn’t been expecting that. The emotions are too intense. I feel them all around me, inside me.
“That I like sleeping with you.” I emphasize the word, though I don’t need to. Part of it is meant to be teasing, but it’s all very much the truth.
With him this close, I can’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitch as if he’s holding back a proud smile.
I don’t stop my own small smile from slipping out. His eyes snap down. He takes in my lips for a long moment. When his gaze captures mine again, there’s nothing tentative or unsure. His dark eyes are filled with heat and want.
The man in front of me won’t hesitate. He will take everything I offer him, and then he’ll push my limits until I make him stop. He will devour me and leave me a wrecked pile. And after he’s done, he’ll do it all over again.
“No, Astra,” he says in almost a scolding tone.
I raise a brow and wait for what I’m sure is going to be his strange way of correcting me.
“It means you like it when I eat out your sweet pussy. That you like being fucked by me. You like the way I touch you. You like the way your body yearns for me. You like my cock and the way you come all over it.”
He’s not wrong. Not even a little bit.
My heart is pounding. My panties are becoming wet, and the scent of my arousal fills the air between us.
The smirk on his face tells me he’s well aware of what he’s doing to me.
I turn my head away and pull my eyes from his in an attempt to break the intense sizzle between us. He reaches up and cups my chin with a firmness that says he’s in charge. I’m forced to hold his gaze once again.
There’s no hiding the lust in my eyes, and I hate myself a little for having no choice but to show him my cards. He knows he’s got me in the palm of his hand. It was stupid of me to even think I could ever have the upper hand with a man like Donovan Falco.
“Admit it, my sweet little doe.” He holds my chin with an iron grip as he stands to his full height, causing me to sit up as straight as I can.
I feel my spine stretching and lengthening, forcing my breast to take front and center.
The corners of his mouth turn up in a sinister, victorious smirk.
I hate it. I want to kiss it. “Admit your tight pussy loves being filled with my cock. You are mine and you know it.”
I swallow hard. The silence stretches out for a long time.
“Astra,” he says calmly, but I can see the patience slipping in his eyes.
“I like… all of those things, yes.”
I can see the twitch of his lips as if he finds me amusing but doesn’t want to let it show.
“You want my cock. Say it, Astra.”
“I want your cock,” I say, eyes flaring wide as if to sarcastically ask if he’s happy now. That’s definitely the first time I’ve said that word out loud, and I’m surprised at how smoothly it fell from my lips.
“And you love being fucked by me.”
“I love being fucked by you.” I give in, not stumbling over the profanity despite the fact that I don’t go tossing around those kinds of words out all willy-nilly.
I’m not a prude, I just think there’s a time and a place for such language.
You have to use it like a punch, or else its impact becomes unimpressive.
I think my point is proven by the way his dark eyes fill with pure want at my use of it.
I don’t look, but I imagine his pants are probably getting a little tight.
I’m seconds away from begging him to undo me right here and now.
“Good,” he says as he drops his hand and takes a step back. He begins lazily unbuttoning his shirt as if our libidos aren’t cranked up to ten and both our hearts aren’t racing with lust.
With my cheeks burning, I drop my gaze as I go to slip off the counter.