Chapter 30
30
ROWENA
When we get to our room, I go in first, keeping my back to him. The door closes behind us with a sharp click.
I reach up to remove my earrings, trying to act casual, but inside, every nerve is buzzing.
I feel his eyes on me, a lick of flame on my back that’s searing skin.
Tonight I’ve pushed his buttons, wanting to discover how far I could go before he snapped. And now, he’s at his breaking point. I can sense it. The reckoning will all be mine. And I’m not sure if I should be thrilled or terrified.
“You’ve been playing with me all day.” The accusation is rough.
I meet his gaze in the mirror, my eyes challenging, projecting a confidence I don’t feel. I notice the struggle in his expression, the way he’s holding back.
He undoes one of his shirt cuffs. No more skin than before is showing, but I still find the gesture incredibly erotic. His movements are slow and controlled. And I don’t want him in control. I want to see him unleashed, however dangerous or unwise that desire might be.
I play dumb. “Have I?”
“You were all over me.”
“I thought that was my part to play.”
“Was it? You seemed pretty invested.” Adrian moves on to his other cuff and raises an eyebrow at me. “Was it just for show or were you trying to get a rise out of me?”
“You’ve made it clear I can’t get a rise out of you.” I huff. “So, I don’t see what the point of this conversation is.”
“Come here,” he tells me— orders me.
“Why?”
“Because now we’re alone.”
I don’t move, still looking at him through the mirror. “Nothing to worry about then, you won’t be forced to kiss me anymore.”
When I don’t go to him, he comes to me. Eyes dark, predatory. He drops his hands on my shoulders and spins me around, pulling me flush to his chest—one hand on my lower, exposed back, one tangling in my hair as he cups my nape. “No, this one is just for me.” And then his mouth descends on mine.
Adrian’s lips move with a raw urgency that makes my pulse thunder, every nerve in my body alive with a desperate, dizzying need.
A dam has burst, unleashing a flood of pent-up need. His mouth claims mine with such fierce urgency that it feels like he’s drawing the very breath from my lungs, leaving me lightheaded and yearning for more.
I melt against him, my body melding to the hard planes of his chest as I lose myself in his kiss.
My head spins dizzily, unable to form a coherent thought beyond how amazing his lips feel moving over mine, how delicious he tastes. My entire being narrows to this single point of connection, electric currents zinging through my veins. I clutch at his shoulders, needing an anchor in this maelstrom of sensation threatening to sweep me away.
We break apart, gasping for air, chests heaving. But it’s only a momentary reprieve. Like two magnets inexorably drawn together, our mouths find each other again, crashing in a tangle of lips and tongues and teeth. If the first kiss was an explosion, this one is an inferno, burning hot and bright, consuming everything in its path.
I pour every ounce of longing, every repressed flicker of want I’ve harbored these past weeks into the kiss, telling him without words how much I crave this, him . My fingers delve into his hair, tugging him to me in a claim of raw possessiveness I didn’t even know I was capable of. He groans deep in his throat, the sound reverberating through me and igniting my nerve endings like a lit fuse. I gobble it, wanting more of these reactions for myself.
I nip at his bottom lip, dragging my teeth over it, sucking it into my mouth. The sound Adrian gives me in response is feral. And I relish it. Delight that I was the one to elicit such a reaction.
We stumble backward, still locked in our passionate embrace, until the backs of my legs hit the bed. Adrian tears his mouth away, chest heaving, pupils blown wide. He rakes his gaze over me, a slow, scorching caress that sets my skin alight.
“You have no idea,” he rasps, voice rough with want, “how much torture it’s been, seeing you in this dress all night. I’ve been dreaming of peeling it off you.”
Acting on his words, he traces a fingertip along the thin strap on my shoulder, a barely there touch that has me breaking into goosebumps. With deliberate slowness, he eases the strap down, baring my skin to his heated stare. He dips his head, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my shoulder.
A whimper escapes me at the contact, the brush of his lips branding me. He lavishes attention on the sensitive spot, grazing with his teeth, soothing with his tongue. His reverence is at odds with the urgency from moments ago, each touch worshipful, achingly tender. Like he wants to memorize me with hands and mouth, imprint himself on my skin.
Emboldened, I reach for the buttons on his shirt. One by one, I slip them free, revealing a tantalizing slice of tanned skin and taut muscle. Adrian shudders as I push the fabric off his shoulders, his breath stuttering out on a groan when I run my palms over his chest, delighting in the warm, satiny smooth texture.
Unable to resist, I drag my nails lightly down the ridges of his abdomen, tracing the defined contours. The muscles of his stomach contract under my touch, and his control snaps again. With a low growl, he yanks me flush against him, sealing his mouth over mine in another wild, desperate kiss.
Behind my back, Adrian throws the covers away and lays me on the bed. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress is delicious, his body radiating heat, searing it into my already burning skin. My hands map the broad expanse of his back, learning the dips and planes of him, committing them to memory.
This is happening. After days of wanting and waiting, we’re crossing that invisible line into uncharted territory. Exhilaration zings through my veins. I’ve imagined this moment countless times, but the reality blows every fantasy out of the water. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the sheer bliss of being in Adrian’s arms.
I pour everything I’m feeling into the kiss—all the longing, the desire, the bone-deep yearning I’ve harbored. Adrian matches me breath for breath, touch for touch, the same desperation thrumming through him. There’s no hesitation, no awkwardness like most first times. It’s as if our bodies already know each other, like we were made to fit together just like this.
Everywhere he touches me, pleasure skitters across my nerve endings in bright sparks. I arch into him, craving more, needing to be closer. He obliges, aligning us so there’s not an inch of space separating us. The delicious friction has me seeing stars behind my closed eyelids.
Adrian tears his mouth from mine to blaze a trail of feather-light kisses along my jaw, down the column of my throat. I tip my head back on a moan, my pulse jumping erratically beneath his lips. “Fuck, Rowena,” he rasps against my skin, voice rough with want. “I’ve dreamed of this… of you… for so long.”
“You should… have said… sooner,” I manage breathlessly, dragging him back up to recapture his eyes with mine. “Why did you pretend you didn’t want me?”
I almost don’t recognize this woman who has the boldness to ask such questions.
Adrian puts all his weight on his elbows as he stares down at me. “I never said I didn’t want you, only that this is going to turn messy. That we shouldn’t do messy.”
I caress the hair back from his face. “So what’s changed?”
“I think you know.” He drops his nose to mine, nuzzling, moving down my cheek to my neck, my ear. He drags my lobe between his teeth. “Everything you did tonight was a test to my resolve, and I failed. I’m not a saint.”
Delicious as his butterfly kisses are, I cup his face and pull him up again. “I don’t want a saint. I only want honest.”
He rolls off me partly, staying closely pressed to my side. The shift in his eyes is clear; whatever self-control I had shattered, it’s now reasserting itself.
Adrian grabs my hand and kisses my palm before interlacing our fingers. “Honest is that I’ve no idea what we’re doing. You’re pregnant and vulnerable and I don’t want to take advantage of you.” As I make to protest that I can make my own decisions, he presses a finger to my mouth. “Let me finish.” I nod, and he lets go. “This thing we’re about to do, won’t be just sex. It’ll complicate things, and I’m not relationship material.” He anticipates my intention to argue again, silencing me with a look. “You might think you’re okay with my crazy schedule at first, but in the long run, you won’t be. Doing this tonight would mix things up”—he trails a finger down my sternum between my breasts over the silk of my dress down to my navel where he lays his palm flat—“for all three of us. Add that we’ll be standing in front of a minister two months from now, vowing to love each other for the rest of our lives, and everything will be even more confused.”
“W-what are you saying?”
“That I admire you and respect you and that I’m crazy attracted to you. But that I hope you understand it’s with the utmost affection and consideration that I say we can’t take this any further.”
I smile despite the meaning of his words. I keep caressing the hair away from his face. “All that hard work, and then I ruin it by running my mouth. I should’ve taken you while you were in your lust haze. ”
He taps my nose. “Around you, I’m constantly in a lust haze.”
“Nah, not anymore. I could undress now in front of you and you still wouldn’t touch me.” To demonstrate, I kneel on the bed next to him and lower the remaining strap of my dress. The silk flows down my torso, dropping to my waist. I’m not wearing a bra underneath.
Adrian’s jaw snaps so tight, I’m afraid he might break a molar or two. His gaze is dark and intent as he follows my every move, but he keeps deadly still. I feel his eyes on me like a physical caress.
I lift up and shimmy out of the dress completely. I remove my strappy sandals next. From the floor, I collect Adrian’s discarded linen shirt and pull it on.
He makes a strangled sort of noise that sounds like a cross between a groan and a whimper. “That’s my shirt.” There’s a note of desperation in his voice that’s almost funny.
Ignoring his comment, I button the shirt, leaving it open enough to be suggestive but closed enough to maintain a modicum of modesty. I straddle him next, but keep my thighs high so that we’re not really touching. I undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and pull the zipper down. Throughout this, Adrian watches me, jaw tense, hands balled into fists at his sides.
I drag the pants down his legs and remove his shoes and socks, before pulling the trousers down completely. I stand at the foot of the bed and admire Adrian, in all his glorious semi-naked splendor. I can see he’s not lying when he says he wants me.
I scoot back onto the mattress, settling down on my side to face him. “Now we’re ready to sleep.” I drop a soft kiss on his mouth. “Please hold me tonight. ”
I turn on my other side and curl up in a fetal position. There’s a heartbeat of silence, then a heavy sigh as Adrian flicks off the lights and pulls the covers over us. For a short instant I’m afraid he’s going to keep his distance, but then his arms pull me against him. One slides under my head as a sort of second pillow, the other protectively wraps over my waist.
There’s still tension lingering between us. I’m keenly aware of every point where our bodies touch, the heat of him seeping into me. But also a different kind of warmth seeps in, soothing away the sparks of electrified air. His breathing is steady, a rhythm I sync with as the minutes tick by.
Sex or no sex, I’m already so far gone for this man that I wonder if I can find my way back. And I’m not sure I’d even want to.