Chapter Eight
Arya
I look behind Aryan, straight into the metallic eyes of my knight in shining armor. Dressed to kill in a black tuxedo and his hair styled back, Nathan Singhania steals the air from my lungs.
Sliding his gaze to my ex, he taunts, “Are you going to put a stop to it?”
Aryan’s face goes beet red.
He’s intimidated by Nathan.
Why wouldn’t he be?
Over six feet tall with features that would put any Greek god to shame and a muscular build sculpted by Michelangelo himself, Nathan is danger personified.
He extends his palm toward me. “Come here, angel.”
My hand slips into his, letting him pull my suddenly overheated body into his inviting arms. One large palm curves around my waist, holding me flush and possessively against him.
I have the insane urge to arch into him until he’s cupping my ass.
“I hope you told her everything you wanted to say because it was the first and last time you’ll ever go near her,” Nathan warns a mute Aryan. “Next time I catch you in her vicinity, you’ll be walking out on a stretcher. Am I understood?”
“A-Arya,” he chokes. “You’re choosing him over me?”
I hold my head high. “We’re over, Aryan.”
“Unlike you, I won’t be an idiot to let her go,” Nathan says smugly. So convincingly that for a heartbeat, I forget we’re acting.
Twirling me around with a gentle touch, he guides me away from the bar and my past that gave me the final kick to move on with my life.
“Didn’t I tell you he’ll come crawling back?” Nathan murmurs once we’re at a safe distance.
I let him lead me to a private corner before stepping out of his embrace. Tilting my face up, I curiously hum, “You don’t have to come rescue me every time.”
“It’s no big deal.” His broad shoulder lifts in a shrug. “Though I hope tonight was the last time he corners you.”
“How are you always there?” I arch a brow, teasing, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were stalking me.”
A dark look flits across his eyes, causing me to tense.
Was I rude?
“Are you going to run away again if I am?”
Goosebumps erupt on my skin at his husky tone. Our kiss flashes in my mind, making my stomach knot with nerves. I fight to hold his piercing stare, stuttering apologetically, “I… I didn’t mean to kiss you that day.”
“The way you pressed your lips against mine tells a different story.” He inches closer, crowding me until I have to arch my neck more. “So, what should I believe?”
“Does it matter? You pushed me away.”
“You would’ve regretted it.”
“How would you know?”
“You were high on adrenaline.” A frown mars his temples as he grits out, “While I didn’t want to get addicted to the savior complex that I seem to be developing with you.”
I don’t miss the edge of accusation in his voice.
Has he also been thinking about me the past two weeks?
My heart rate doubles.
In a small and unsure voice, I whisper, “It’s a good thing we didn’t kiss then.”
“It would be.” A heavy pause that turns our breaths shallow. “If your pouty lips weren’t all I thought about for two goddamn weeks.”
My sharp inhale spills between us.
“I need to know,” he groans, gaze darkening as he backs me completely into a corner.
“Know what?”
“What you taste like.” Heated eyes roam down the length of my body, lingering on every curve and naked inch of flesh, before traveling back to my face. “You look gorgeous in this dress tonight.”
“T-thank yo─”
“Yet all I can think about is ripping it off of you.”
“Nathan,” I moan his name. He isn’t even touching me.
Caging me in with his bent elbows on either side of my head, he skims his nose along my cheek. His warm breath tickles as he brings his mouth to my ear. “I’ve had nothing but inappropriate thoughts ever since I saw you across the room. Would you like to know them, angel?”
I make an unintelligible noise.
He isn’t satisfied. “Words.”
“Y-yes, Nathan.”
Pulling my head back, he forces my gaze to lock with his salacious one.
“I want to tug down the straps of your dress and bare your tits so I can find out what color your nipples are. While I suck on them because I will crave a taste, I’ll slip my hand under your dress to see how wet you get before I finger fuck your pussy. ”
Nothing prepares me for his unapologetically debauched words. My traitorous nipples pucker at his crassness as if they have a direct connection to his voice.
It’s troubling.
No one’s ever talked to me this way.
He notices my inexperience like the seducer he is. The lust in his gray pupils burns hotter, loving the depth of my innocence.
“Your ex never told you he’d like to suck your pretty nipples?
” he taunts. The flush on my cheeks deepens as I begin to tremble.
One of his hands lowers to splay across my flat stomach.
“Fuck, Arya. You’ve been missing out. I bet your nerdy little ex-fiancé never ripped your clothes off with the frenzied need to be inside you. ”
No. Aryan never did.
Nathan’s gaze falls to my lips as I pant harder.
Words fail me.
Anaya didn’t warn me about this.
“Warn about what?” he drawls.
My eyes widen.
Shit. Did I speak out loud again?
“Yeah, angel.” Nathan smirks. “You just confirmed you said inappropriate things about me. Spill it now, or I’ll make you.”
“M-make me?”
“Yes.” His voice is a low growl. “Make you.”
“How?” I dare to ask. Too curious to bite my tongue.
“By pushing my fingers underneath your dress to rub your cunt and bring you near the edge without letting you fall again and again until you spill every secret to me. Right here in this corner where everyone can hear you scream my name.”
I’m drenched between my thighs instantly.
My clit throbs for friction.
As I shift to close my thighs to relieve the ache, Nathan presses his leg between them and pushes them apart.
An embarrassing whine escapes my lips in a rush.
“I caused the ache, and only I will make you come.”
I’m a ball of need as I lean my head against his palm cupping the back of it. I writhe, grasping at my last shred of rationality. “It’s a bad idea.”
“Why?”
“You’re in love with your ex.”
“You’re in love with yours,” he retorts harshly, before the timbre of his voice becomes bitter and sad. Then he utters, “A relationship can be over, but it doesn’t mean you stop loving them.”
His proclamation hits me square in the chest.
But not enough to douse our climbing lust.
Or the strange connection growing between us.
Curling my fingers around his biceps, I helplessly ask, “What do you want, Nathan?”
“I want you.” The hand on my belly snakes up to my throat. “Once.”
“No strings.”
“No love.”
Time stretches as we stare at each other. Could I do this? Sleep with a man without developing feelings? It would be one thing if we were never going to see each other again. Except, fate keeps crossing our paths over and over.
“Arya,” he growls impatiently.
“Okay.” I lick my lips. “Have me, Nathan.”