Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Noemi
Dark eyes watch me as I hurry down the street. I turn up my coat collar and cast a glance behind me. Nothing is there.
But I know he still waits.
When I turn back, I run into a dark man. I can't make out his face, but I shrink back and squint. Is it Rian?
Or worse, is it Andreas Vitelli?
The dark man reaches out a hand to me.
Heart pounding, my eyes fly open. I gasp into the darkness as I try to figure out where I am.
Ah. I'm in Rian's bed. And I'm not alone; his arm is wrapped around my waist, his thigh pressing against mine. A quick glance over my shoulder shows him sleeping soundly behind me.
We’ve slept together for a week straight since he was shot. And I’m gradually growing more and more comfortable with never leaving this bed.
It's funny. In sleep, he appears almost angelic, with his blond hair and eyebrows. His high cheekbones and ruggedly-built nose are a lesson in contrasts. The gentle dip of his top lip that flares out to a full, kissable mouth. A full day's growth is on his cheeks but it too is light.
What is it about this man that I find so terrifying, and yet so appealing? It must be his eyes. The pale green of his irises is stunning, almost creepy. And he always stares at me with such complete focus.
Coupled with his imposing height and broad shoulders, he's a lot to take in.
Should I feel so much attraction to him? He's a good kisser, but it's more than that. I’m starting to worry that I’m forming such an attachment to him.
He’s a psycho, yes. But he’s my psycho. He’s made that clear enough.
Rian’s eyelashes flutter, making me suck in a breath. "You okay?" he asks.
I flush and turn away. "Mhm."
Rian's arm tightens around my waist. "Can you fall back asleep?"
"Yes," I whisper. "Sorry."
"Don't be." He kisses my shoulder, but says no more.
I listen to his breathing as it evens out and deepens once more. Sleep is easy for him.
A week ago, sleep was easy for me. But it's elusive tonight.
I sigh, shifting. The dark room isn't what I'm used to.
At my apartment, my bed overlooks a window that has a streetlight right below it.
It took me a month to get used to sleeping with so much light; now it's impossible to fall asleep without it.
Rian turns so that he is fully spooning me. His muscular thigh slips between mine. I scoot back just a hair, trying to get comfortable, then freeze.
Rian's hard cock presses against my leg. At my swift inhale of breath, he sleepily kisses my neck. "Ignore him. He'll get the idea eventually."
Too late for that. My entire body bursts into tingles. The flush from my cheeks spreads to my chest. For a moment, I feel as hot as I did on the Gloss.
I should be perfectly still and ignore his raging erection, as he suggested. But I can't.
Biting my lower lip, I shift my ass so that his cock nestles against my butt. He gives half a groan.
The sound lights up all the synapses in my fucking brain. I press back against him, needing more. More of his groans, his warmth, his excitement. His hand slides down to grip my hip once, twice, three times.
I lean my head back, sleepy, greedy, almost drunk on sensation. Rian thrusts against me, still mostly asleep. A low growl bursts free and I can feel it rumbling through my chest.
"Pretty girl," he murmurs. "What are you doing?"
My cheeks glow. "I want..."
I can't finish my sentence, too embarrassed. But need still suffuses me.
I'm hungry for his touch. Starving, actually. And there's no drug in my system, forcing me to feel this way this time. He's just fucking hot.
I grab his hand and snake it down my stomach. His fingers splay across my skin, hot and possessive, and I hear his breath catch.
"Noemi." His voice is thick with sleep and something darker. "You sure?"
I answer by pressing his hand lower. His fingertips graze the waistband of my panties and I arch my back, pushing my ass against his cock. He groans into my neck, low and rough, and the sound is so filthy that I clench my thighs together.
"Fuck." He rolls his hips against me, his cock grinding between my cheeks. Even through the fabric of his boxers and my underwear, I can feel how hard he is, how thick. My whole body pulses in response.
His hand slips beneath the elastic of my panties. I gasp and he freezes, his fingers hovering just above where I need them.
"Tell me." His lips brush my ear. "Say it out loud."
"Touch me." It comes out as a whisper. I've never said those words to anyone in my life. My cheeks burn, but I don't take it back.
His fingers slide through my wetness and he makes a sound against my shoulder that vibrates through my entire body. "You're soaked, pretty girl."
I grab his wrist, not to pull him away but to press him closer. He circles my clit with two fingers, slow and deliberate, and I bite down on a moan that would probably wake up every neighbor in this building.
"Don't hold back." He nips at the curve of my neck. "Nobody can hear you but me."
I stop holding back. His hand makes a squelching sound that’s embarrassing and loud.
But I don't care, because his fingers are working me in these tight, lazy circles that build and build.
His cock pushes against my ass in a rhythm that matches his hand.
I reach back to grab his hip, pulling him closer.
"Harder," I demand. “Please?”
Rian’s fingers press and circle in a faster rhythm.
I roll my hips into his hand, chasing it, needing more.
His cock rocks against me and he's growling continuously now, these low animal sounds that rumble through his chest and into my back.
I think I can feel a small pool of wetness escaping his cock.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." His teeth scrape my shoulder. "Watching you sleep, knowing you were right there, knowing I could never..."
I turn my head and catch his mouth. The kiss is sloppy and sideways, imperfect. He groans against my lips and his fingers speed up. His hips snap against my ass in a way that makes the bed creak over and over.
I'm close. I can feel it building at the base of my spine, tightening like a fist. His fingers find exactly the right spot. I break away from his mouth to gasp my eyes closing, everything in my body tightening.
"Fuck, pretty girl." His voice is wrecked. "Come for me. Right now."
I shatter against his hand. My whole body locks up and I cry out, my fingers digging into his forearm as the orgasm tears through me. He holds me through it. He moves his hand in slow circles that drag it out until I'm twitching and oversensitive. I have to grab his wrist to make him stop.
His cock is still painfully hard against my back. I reach behind me, wrapping my fingers around him through his boxers, and he hisses.
"Let me," I plead. Turning my head again, I capture his mouth as I fumble with his cock.
For a second, he lets me stroke him through the fabric. His hips push into my grip and his breathing turns ragged. Then he grunts and his hand closes over mine, gentle but firm.
"No." He pulls my hand away and brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "Not like this."
"Why not?" I squirm, trying to turn over, but his arm tightens around my waist.
"Because if you put your hands on my cock right now, I'm going to fuck you. I don’t think we’re ready for that yet."
"We're not?"
"No." He hesitates. “I want you, Noemi. Can’t think of anything else when I touch you. But… we need to go slow.”
I want to argue. My body is still buzzing and the feel of him hard against me is making my brain short-circuit. But he's right, even if I don't want to admit it. My hands are still trembling from the orgasm and from something else, something that sits deeper in my chest that I can't name yet.
I nod. "Okay. But for the record, I don't think you're as patient as you pretend to be."
He chuckles darkly. "I'm not patient at all. I'm just good at pretending." His hand smooths over my stomach. "Go to sleep, Noemi. In the morning, I’ll take you shopping."
“Rian…” It’s a ridiculous question. “How can I possibly sleep after that?”
He doesn't kiss me again, but he looks like he wants to. "Just try."
* * *
The next morning, Rian holds the door open, ushering me inside the high-end boutique.
The shop occupies the entire ground floor of a limestone townhouse on Madison, and there are no prices anywhere to be found.
My mother used to say that stores without prices aren't stores, they're private clubs.
As in, you're already a member or you never will be.
Stacks of jeans and t-shirts sit next to curated racks of dresses. Upbeat electronic music plays as I sweep my glance around, taking in the wall of shoes and the tables of accessories. This place is so fancy that I don’t think I can afford even the smallest scrap of clothing.
A dark-haired man dressed in chic all black holds the door open. "Mr. and Mrs. O'Sullivan. Welcome."
What? That’s definitely not right. I blanch and open my mouth to correct him, but Rian beats me to it. "Jared?"
"Yes. It’s a pleasure to have you both in the store. We’ve closed for the morning to give you some privacy."
“Okay.” Rian tows me along, his grip on my elbow tight. “We need everything. Dresses, pants, tops… panties.”
“Rian,” I chastise him. No way is he going to talk about my panties with this stranger.
It occurs to me that, while I may feel that Jared is a stranger, I don’t qualify Rian as the same. Which is insane.
I’ve known him for less than three weeks.
Jared extends his hand to the sales floor. "I've already pulled everything you requested, Mrs. O'Sullivan. Do you want to start with my choices or look around first?"
"Um." I glance at Rian, who merely lifts his brows. Since he doesn’t give me any direction, I shrug. "Call me Noemi. And I'd like to look around first, if that’s okay."
Jared nods like I've said something profound. "Of course, Noemi. Take your time. I'll be right here if you need anything."