Chapter 13 – Celine
It had been three days since the deep kiss that left me wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t pulled away. The taste of his lips still lingered on mine, a reminder of his touch and how it made me feel.
I stood by the window in my room that night, watching the rain pour outside. By now, I was already used to the thunderclaps that once scared the living daylight out of me. I’d come face-to-face with death and survived, so a thunderclap wouldn’t hurt me.
In my head, I kept replaying the scene on the rooftop over and over again. It was the first decent conversation I’d had with him since I arrived here. There was no hatred. No anger. Nothing negative.
Just peace and tranquility.
I never thought he had it in him to make me laugh, to make anyone laugh. I was glad I was wrong about that. He proved to me that night that he wasn’t completely a monster, that there was still some shred of humanity in him.
Thinking back on the incident and the emotions our small talk stirred up in me, a smile crept onto my face.
Lightning streaked the dark clouds outside.
Crack!
Another roll of thunder rumbled across the sky.
I stood still, tracing the curve of my mouth with my thumb as I reminisced about the kiss. He was an excellent kisser, one who’d been living in my head all day. His touch was electric; it ignited a flame that burned through my body, making me want him more.
The kiss that night revealed one thing: the fact that we both had been craving something intimate with each other. He devoured my lips as though he’d been waiting for that opportunity a long time.
At that moment, nothing else mattered, and we forgot our places in this whole situation. In his arms, I didn’t feel like a prisoner—in fact, I hadn’t felt like that in a while. All I wanted was him. Mind, spirit, soul, and body.
Maybe it was a bit extreme, but that was how I felt. I hadn’t been so horny before, and it seemed to warp my mind. He didn’t know this, but during the time he devoured my lips, I’d already wet my panties.
I was dripping—soaking wet!
If he had dipped his hand in my panties and realized it, he might not have pulled away. He might have lost control and claimed me.
Honestly, I would’ve liked that then.
I still would like that now.
It was shameful to admit, but it was true.
Something about the way he respected my virginity seemed to pull me even closer.
His words still echoed in my head: Since you’re untouched, let’s keep it that way.
That single act changed the game in ways I wasn’t ready for. It was now as though ever since he chose to cherish my body, I found him even more attractive—worthy to be my first.
Again, it was shameful.
But it was the truth.
I’d spent the whole day wondering how it would feel to have him deep inside me. And until now, I hadn’t been able to stop creating intimate scenes in my head.
I’d thought of the different possible ways it could happen, and in all those instances, I was satisfied with the outcome. It was strange how this man had quietly slithered his way into my mind like a deadly snake.
His venom, his actions, had penetrated my soul and were breaking all of my defenses with time. The high walls I built to protect myself were crumbling, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass at a flash of lightning. My hair was styled into a messy bun on my head, and the left strap of my nightgown had slid off my shoulder.
My body was shaking subtly as I imagined him in the room, doing crazy things to me. In my imagination, his hands were all over my body, and my moans were drowned out by the pouring rain.
I bit my lower lip, my fingers tuning my peaks over the fabric of my dress. It felt good. So good. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close. Instead, it just ended up fanning the flames of my lust.
“Artur,” I murmured his name, legs brushing against each other.
“I’m right here,” he answered from behind.
My breath hitched, eyes widening in shock as I caught his reflection in the glass in front of me.
Shit, shit, shit….
The words spilled out rapidly in my head.
I panicked, my heart racing in my chest as I adjusted the strap hanging off my shoulder. “Hi. Hey—what…what’re….” I turned around, struggling to catch my breath, stuttering. “What’re you doing here—how’d you….” I paused. “How long have you been standing there?”
He hesitated, his voice deep and husky when he said, “Long enough.”
Fuck. He’d caught me. He’d caught me playing with myself while calling his name.
Dang it.
A wave of embarrassment washed over me, but I refused to let him see it. So, instead, I wore a neutral expression, even though his shirtless body was constantly distracting me.
He was stripped from the waist upward, his broad shoulders and chiseled abs catching my eyes. The man was ripped—fuckin’ attractive. His skin was marred with scars, deep and shallow cuts. Some looked like bullet wounds, others like knife injuries.
The cut across his left arm was still fresh, and I figured it was from the traitor he’d fought days ago.
“Do you not know how to knock?” I asked, wearing a plastic frown. “I can teach you.” I began demonstrating. “You raise your hand, clench your fingers into a fist, and tap your knuckles on the door. Easy.”
His lips curled in amusement. “I’ll try to remember that next time.”
Silence fell in the room, and the only sound was the storm outside. The air was thick with tension, and the longer we stared at each other, the stronger the pull between us.
“What’re you doing here, Artur?” I asked, my voice soft and almost seductive. Almost.
“I’ll tell you,” he said, taking a few steps forward. “As soon as you tell me why you were calling my name.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s ridiculous.” A breathy dismissive laugh escaped my lips.
“Is it?” He halted in front of me.
“Just tell me why you’re here,” I insisted.
He hesitated. “I want you out.”
“Huh?” I arched my brows, shocked and confused.
“Out of my head,” he explained, that deep, sexy voice teasing my senses.
A fleeting moment of relief washed over me. For a second there, I thought he wanted me out of his house. A few weeks ago, it would’ve been good news. But now, I wasn’t sure why the idea scared me like that.
Then his words struck me harder, prompting my face to twist in bewilderment. “Wait. What do you mean by ‘out of your head’?”
His gaze swept over my body as he closed the distance between us, the scent of his cologne filling the air around me. “I think you know what I mean,” he whispered in my face, his fresh breath warm against my skin.
My heart skipped a beat, pulse racing.
He was just as affected by the last kiss as I was, and in his eyes, all I saw was passion. The flames were burning hot beneath his composure, his face etched with desire.
My chest was heaving with slow, ragged breaths, my hands trembling as he drew me closer. His hands were firm around my waist, and he caressed my skin; his touch was electric.
I felt his erection brush against my thighs, hard as a rock. I loved it.
His thumb brushed against my cheek while those cold blue eyes bore into mine. The longer he stared at me, the more difficult it became to catch my breath. The sensation coursing through my body made it impossible to stay calm, no matter how hard I tried.
Just take me already, I thought to myself, hating how much his teasing tortured me.
In a heartbeat, our faces collided, lips crashing in a fervent kiss. It was fierce, rough, and fast-paced. Breathless, we devoured each other’s mouths while our tongues twirled in the heat of passion.
His hands traveled around my body, possessing every inch of me. The deeper the kiss, the more I unraveled before him. He squeezed my breasts over the fabric of my dress, massaged my ass, and pulled me even closer.
“Oh, fuck, yes.” I let out a breathy moan.
My hands roamed his masculine body, his skin thick beneath mine. I felt the ridges of his abs and the roughness of his scars.
He pushed me against the nearest wall, palms fondling my bosom. I lowered my hands, daring to feel the print of his cock beneath his pants.
Fuck, it was long.
His fingers deftly slid down one strap of my gown, exposing my left breast. He broke our kiss and pulled his head back by a notch. His eyes were fixed on my chest as if he was captivated by what he saw.
A split second later, he lowered his head and took the breast in his mouth.
I moaned softly.
The chill of his tongue on my nipple sent waves of ecstasy crashing through me. My muscles contracted as his hands began to climb up my legs.
The feeling was sensational.
As he ascended, the hem of my dress rose, revealing my thighs and toned skin. He threw one hand upward and found my neck while the other settled on my underpants.
“Oh, my God.” My eyes rolled backward, my voice trembling.
He ran fingers along my panties before sliding in through the side. My body stiffened at his touch, my thighs brushing against each other. He wrapped his fingers around my neck, choking me just enough to make me want more.
I dipped my hand inside his pants and withdrew his stick, hard and veiny. The more I stroked his length, the longer it stretched.
He lifted me into the air, walked over to the table by the window, and set me down on it. I threw my hands around him, my heartbeat steadying by the minute. His palms caressed my thighs for a moment before pulling down my panties.
I gripped the edge of the table and bit my lower lip. I watched him go down on his knees as he parted my legs. He dipped his head between my thighs and inhaled the scent of my arousal.
My pulse was racing, chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. I tightened my grip around the edge of the table, waiting in anticipation as he admired my flower.
Artur glanced up at me, stuck out his tongue, and licked through my folds.
My toes curled in ecstasy, my heart hammering loudly. A cold shiver sprinted down my spine, prompting my face to contort in pleasure.