Chapter Twenty-One
Arya
“What for?” I nervously ask.
It’s shocking that I’m able to string a sentence together, having his hands on me. How does he turn me putty under his touch?
The length of his muscular body presses flush against my spine as he dips his face to brush his lips against my ear. “For forcing you to confront Bianca before you were ready.”
I’m once again left stunned by the regret in his voice.
As much as I hate him for his vengeful move, it did give me the nudge I needed to face my sister and have the long-overdue conversation.
In some twisted way, I found the happy ending.
I’m back together with Bianca.
Of course, I don’t tell Nathan any of that.
Because you want his sinful apology.
“Why do you do these things, Nathan?” I whisper, making his fingers tense on my inner thigh. “Why do you make me want to hate you?”
“It’s all I know.” His calloused palm climbs higher up my trembling thigh. “So, I can do this.”
Oh gosh, he’s going to… I try to close my legs, but it’s too late.
His whole body goes rigid when his fingers graze my bare sex.
“Jesus, Arya!” he curses roughly. “Have you been walking around naked all night?”
I flush crimson from head to toe.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I stand frozen.
He cups me fully, uncaring of the mess I’m making of his palm with my wetness. A light pressure to tilt my hips higher until my ass connects with his swollen length. “I asked you something, angel.”
“Y-yes.” Licking my dry lips, I explain so he doesn’t think I go commando all the time, “My dress is tight and would show panty lines. I don’t like wearing thongs or… a G-string. I had no other option.”
I was in a hurry and couldn’t find an alternative. How was I supposed to know I’d find myself bent over with my client’s hand up my gown?
“So, you decided to wear nothing at all.” His taunt is an electric current against the soft skin of my neck. “You sat like this beside him.”
The violent edge in his tone sends a fearful shiver down my spine.
For Rithvik, not me.
“One wrong move and he could’ve seen you.”
“He didn’t see anything,” I murmur in a rush, ignoring my throbbing clit while he continues to palm my pussy possessively. Any more seconds and I might just come from this. “I was careful.”
“Soaked pants would’ve been the least of his worries had he caught a glimpse of your sweet pussy.” A fresh stream of arousal spills onto his hand. “Does the thought of me hurting him turn you on?”
“No!”
“You’ve drenched my fingers and I have done nothing but touch you, Ari.” Dipping his middle finger between my folds, he rubs the length of me. With just the tip, he swirls and spreads my wetness all over my mound. “Have you been with another man since me?”
I shake my head.
“Good girl,” he rasps against the side of my head.
His praise lights up my nerve endings, making me bite my lip to stop from thanking him. Like I’m incomplete unless he calls me his good girl.
“Nobody touches your cunt but me. Or you, when I allow it.” Sliding his free hand up to grab my throat, he commands, “Spread your legs.”
I don’t move a muscle. Turning my head to the side, I ask, “Is Samaira going to receive the same apology after you’re done with me and go back to her? You’re touching me while on a date with her. I think she will be very upset.”
“She’ll get over it,” he drawls arrogantly. “And I don’t owe her any apology because I don’t regret coming after you. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be like how I’m about to give it to you. Does that satisfy you?”
Way more than it should.
Loving his openness and the power over him, I shrug noncommittally.
His fingers tighten in a warning as he scolds, “Stop being a brat. It doesn’t suit you. Spread your legs before someone walks by and earns the show of watching you come prettily all over my hand. We both know an audience won’t stop me from taking what I want.”
There he goes again, making me forget where we are.
He has me shoved against a wall in out in the open hallway.
The reason we haven’t been caught yet is because of the ongoing auction. There will be a break soon, and everyone will be able to roam freely.
“You gonna be a good girl now?”
I’m apparently in the mood of being the opposite because I boast, “Maybe I don’t want your apology.”
He laughs, low and gravelly. “Oh, little minx, you don’t want my apology. You fucking need it. Have been craving it the minute you came to the party.”
Pressing one shoe against the inside of my right heel, he forces my thighs apart and savagely thrusts two fingers into my pussy.
My pleasurable whimper is sharp and loud.
My back arches as he slams his digits past the knuckles, filling me completely and ruthlessly. Slowly, like he has all the time in the world, he drags them out and slides them into my spasming walls again.
Head dropping low, I reach behind me to curl one hand around his shoulder. The sight of his hand buried underneath my dress and finger fucking me leisurely drives my lust sky-high.
Bringing my face back to his chest, his soft lips trail along my collarbone.
Kissing, sucking, and tasting my skin. “My mouth never touched any part of her, angel. Not here—” A kiss against my pounding pulse.
“Or here—” Another kiss where my neck meets my shoulder.
Biting me lightly on the middle of the throat, his tongue and lips trail up to my open mouth. “Definitely not here.”
He claims my lips in a toe-curling kiss.
Thrusting his tongue, he parts my mouth wider and tastes me deeper. I moan at the rawness and aggression in his strokes. Tangling my hand in his hair, I kiss him back harder, drunk on his taste.
I forget about every reason why I hate him.
Or how wrong we are for each other.
That once the lust is out of our systems, he’ll go back to being cold. However, being surrounded by his warmth, his passion, I can’t care about any of it.
In this moment, I’m all his.
Our tongues tangle together, sucking on each other in fervor.
He fucks my mouth in time to his fingers ramming inside my pussy. My thighs shake from the slap of his wrist every time he bottoms out.
His apology is just like him.
Domineering.
Vicious.
Maddening.
“Come for me.” He flicks my clit over and over with the pad of his thumb. “Show me you forgive me. Be a good little girl and drench my fingers in your cum.”
As if his words have a direct connection to the fire in my belly, I fall apart at the seams and climax hard.
His palm slaps over my lips, cutting off my cries as I let the ecstasy roll down my body in luxurious waves.
My limbs turn into jelly, held up only by his fingers inside my core.
He lazily strokes and fucks me until I finish riding the edge.
As soon as it’s over and his hand glides away, I stare at the wall in dread. The reality of what occurred, what I let happen, dawns on me.
I wait anxiously for the inevitable distance he’ll put between us.
The cruelty with which he’ll treat me like a stranger.
Throw me away after using my body and my desire for him against me.
All the fear I felt at his hurtful treatment from last time haunts me.
I tense up like a rubber band seconds away from snapping in two when he gently lowers my arm from the wall.
He’s going to dump me now.
Both his arms circle my waist, hugging me from behind. His warm breath skates across my shoulder as he presses the softest kiss. A long, lingering touch of his lips.
My brows pull together at the unexpected tenderness.
“Stop thinking, Ari,” he sighs.
“Are you preparing me before you push me away?”
A teasing nip of his teeth against my collarbone before he grumbles, “I’m not going to be an asshole like last time.”
A smile spreads over my face before I can stop it. Leaning into him, I murmur, “You never apologized for that.”
“If you want me to make you come again, just say so.” Gently turning me around in his arms, he caresses my mound over my dress. “I’ll use my mouth this time.”
A deep flush travels to my cheeks. “I-I’m good.”
“You sure?” His hand skims toward the gap in my dress while he backs me up against the wall.
Nerves dance along my skin in anticipation.
A second before he can corner me, we hear footfalls and low voices coming down the hallway. The lustful light on Nathan’s face vanishes. His tall body goes rigid. I watch his indifferent mask fall over his angular features with my heart stuck in my throat.
The male voices become louder and closer.
Nathan steps away from me and quietly orders, “Go back to the room, Ari.”
Something in his tone has me obeying him without any argument.
Does he know the people walking in our direction?
The auction is still going strong as I journey back to the table and sit down in my chair without making eye contact with Mr. and Mrs. Roshan. I frown, finding Samaira’s seat empty. Even her tiny purse isn’t here.
Did she leave?
Fuck! How long were Nathan and I gone?
Could she know he was with me?
How terrible a person am I for liking her departure? Suddenly, all the insecurities I felt when I compared myself to her disappear.
Still flustered at the turn of events, I reach for my untouched glass of wine and take a sip. My mind goes to Nathan and his dark mood. With my back to the door, I can’t see when he walks in or with whom.
Could it be someone from his company?
If so, he made the right call by sending me inside. His employees can’t know we’re hooking up. Or that no amount of professionalism stands a chance against our chemistry.
Wait… are we hooking up?
Was tonight an exception? How the hell did our argument lead to him bringing me an orgasm? It seems neither of us has self-control.
He admitted as much.
Where do we go from here? I never got the chance to ask him. Gosh! I am so freaking confused. This situation is as complicated as being in a relationship. At least in the latter, you know where you stand. I like having a label.
This one-night stand business isn’t as simple as everyone claims.
I take another swig of my drink when I feel the small hairs on my neck rise. A knot of desire and shyness forms in my belly when the chair next to me shifts backward. Hyperawareness slithers down my spine as Nathan sits down gracefully.
Did he forget he’s supposed to be seated across from me? There’s no indication on his stoic face.
My heartbeat goes boom when our thighs touch under the table.
A zap of current jolts me from top to bottom.
Leaning forward with my elbows on the table, I move to crisscross my legs. Nathan’s hand bands around just above my knees, keeping them pressed together. When his finger tickles the soft skin beneath, my toes curl in my heels.
I fight to keep my composure.
What is happening between us?
He’s looking at the stage when I peek at him as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
The height of the round table and tablecloth conceals the intimacy of our position. It’s the burning face that might give us away. Clutching my drink like a lifeline, I try to concentrate on the auction and the bidding war.
In my peripheral vision, I see Nathan pull out his phone and unlock it.
A few seconds later, my phone vibrates. My excitement is palpable as I reach for it, knowing it’s a text from him.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Do you often skip wearing panties?
The question makes me squirm and almost drop the wineglass.
ME: Of course not.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Good. Because I can barely stand the thought of you sitting bare in a room full of men.
ME: What if my answer was yes?
MR. GENTLEMAN: Then I’d have you blacklisted from every event across the country so you wouldn’t need to.
My jaw hits the floor at his insane answer.
ME: I have no words.
MR. GENTLEMAN: The alternative is me knocking out the man who accidentally looks at your cunt and dreams of fucking it.
The sound of my gasp blends into the applause when someone wins the bid.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Close your lips, angel. They’re giving me deviant ideas.
I shudder, closing my mouth.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Such a good little girl when you obey.
ME: Stop it!
MR. GENTLEMAN: Is it making you wet?
Too impatient to wait for my reply, he slips his hand underneath my dress and drags a finger through my folds.
MR. GENTLEMAN: So fucking soaked.
He brings his hand to his mouth, running the glistening finger over his bottom lip and licking it slowly.
The seductive action stirs the demanding ache in my pussy to life.
MR. GENTLEMAN: I bet I can make you come right here.
The hand returns to rest high over my thighs, caressing and squeezing torturously.
MR. GENTLEMAN: Can you be quiet?
I shove my hand to my lap, closing my fist around his wrist. Twisting my face, I utter a plea only for his ears. “You’ll get us caught. Please stop.”
“Fine.” He smirks. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Shaking my head at his playfulness, I stare at the host on the stage as he presents a slide for the audience about the nonprofit organization that they’ll be donating the money to.
Halfway through it, I remember I never asked Nathan who almost caught us before he distracted me with his dirty talk. So, I message him.
ME: Who was it back there? Are you okay?
MR. GENTLEMAN: My dad.
That explains his menacing energy.
ME: Are you going to introduce us tonight?
MR. GENTLEMAN: We’ll save it for another night.
ME: Okay.
ME: Last question… Where did Samaira go?
MR. GENTLEMAN: Home.
ME: Why?
MR. GENTLEMAN: I asked her after I told her I’m not interested in her.
Pleasure so intense dizzies me at reading his answer. My cheeks hurt from trying to contain my grin. I know it doesn’t mean I have a claim over him come tomorrow. But for tonight, I’m enjoying being the center of his attention.
“Whoa!” someone exclaims.
“What’s happening?” gasps Mrs. Roshan.
I yank my gaze off my phone to glance at her, perplexed by the shock filtering across her pretty face. I look from her to the rest of the table, finding that all their eyes are locked on the stage. It’s then that I also notice the coldness of Nathan’s palm on my lap.
He’s no longer relaxed.
In fact, the entire grand ballroom has descended into silence.
What is happening?
I follow everyone’s attention to the stage. The large projector is no longer presenting the slides, but a message thread from someone’s hacked phone.
All the color drains from my face when I read the names.
Iris and Nathan.
“Oh no,” I utter in horror.
It’s them discussing their fake engagement.
IRIS: Let me help you, Nathan. It can’t be hard since we’re already fake dating. Everyone will believe it.
NATHAN: Think carefully, Iris. You’ll be putting your life on hold for two years.
IRIS: I am sure.
Each text is more damning than the last.
With it comes a single realization.
“Nathan.” He looks at me as the chatter becomes louder around us. “I think someone is out to sabotage you.”