Chapter 17 Dahlia
DAHLIA
My head lies on his chest, and his hand travels up and down the valley of my breasts absentmindedly, reminding me I am not dreaming.
I doubt I could have conjured such a peaceful moment.
While my body soaks in the warm water, my heart swims in an overwhelming feeling of love—so much delight and endless serenity.
I don’t want us to end, even though it must. Being thrust back into numbness feels impossible right now.
I could never regret us, but I won’t survive his loss.
He has touched my life, heart, and body in indelible ways.
I sigh—the sound heavy with despondency, threatening to burst the ethereal bubble.
“Was I too hard on you?” he asks, sounding concerned.
For the entire world, he might be a cruel, heartless monster. For me, he’ll always be the boy who has protected me. The man who saved me.
My body is deliciously sore, and I prefer it that way, hoping to preserve the feeling so I will never forget how he made me feel.
He awakened in me a sexual, confident woman.
But the reality of him could never have prepared me, even if I had experience.
He oozes intensity, demands submission. And I love to take him, feel him stretch me, rearrange everything in me.
He brings me so high, I could stretch out my hand and snatch a star from the sky.
“I loved every second,” I murmur.
I tilt my head to him, catching a smirk tugging at his mouth while those silver eyes burn with unrestrained hunger. But there’s always something else present—like a compass pointing straight at me. Softness.
I know he would kill for me. Has killed for me. But he might kill me with passion. He ignites a fire in me that ravages my insides.
His brows furrow as his eyes bore into me, wanting to uncover my depths. “Then what is it?”
I could never hide from him. Our hearts share a connection that transcends the physical. That word comes to my mind again: destiny. Then, if mine is intertwined with his, why be so cruel to keep us apart? What do we have besides stolen moments and secrets we guard?
I shrug. “Nothing you could help with.”
A low growl unfolds from his throat, ready to face the challenge. “Try me.”
Even for someone as powerful as he is, he can’t have it all. It’s like life tips the scale, and some things will be impossible to achieve.
“Don’t make me say what would only stain our time together.”
His chest expands with his heavy breathing. I don’t have to turn to know he’s brooding. It’s in his nature to give me what I want. He can’t help himself, and who am I to refuse him.
Just as I expected, heaviness pulls his features taut. I brush my fingers along his defined cheekbones and sharp jaw, caressing away the hardness.
“Let’s not delve into what we can’t change, Mika. You’ve already given me more than I could have asked for.”
It’s not only about the endless gifts he has given me.
“I would give you everything. Whatever you ask,” he says with a resolution that both scares and excites me.
I know he would. His oath, I owe you a life. Mine if you demand, as he drove me back home—bleeding, dirty, broken is one I will never forget.
I must tread carefully. Because if I keep asking, he will keep giving, regardless of the fatal consequences.
I am spoiled, but I would never jeopardize their bond, even if it means sacrificing my heart.
His phone rings from somewhere in the house. He ignores it, continuing to gaze at me, caressing my skin and touching my soul.
“What if it’s important?” I offer.
He waves a hand dismissively through the air. “It can wait. The world could end for all I fucking care.”
It feels like he’s just as eager as I am to spend every moment together, creating a lifetime of memories in only a few days. We should have given in from the moment my brother and his sister went on their honeymoon.
Helping me up, he washes my hair. His fingers dig into my scalp, massaging the tension away, and a soft moan rolls out of my mouth.
“I only have to put my hands on you for you to moan for me, huh?”
“Not my fault, your hands are magical,” I moan, savoring his gentle care.
Laughter shakes his chest, making me wish I could always be a source of joy and calmness in his clouded, stormy life.
“Come on, you tease, let me take you to bed.”
“Your bed?” I ask, hope ringing loud.
“Mm-hmm. I’m not taking you back tonight.”
In this very moment, my heart has turned into a keyboard, the high notes soaring before the low notes crash down—the perfect refrain for a tune that brims with impending heartache.
Clearing my throat, I ask, faking coyness that honestly has been stabbed to death with each rock of his hips, “And what will you do with me in your bed?”
His hand comes down on my ass, connecting with my sensitive flesh. The slap instantly makes me hot and wanton. He’s conditioning me to be his obedient plaything. How can I resist when I crave the pleasure as if I am suffocating, desperate for a mouthful of air.
“Such a brat. What am I going to do with you?”
Keep me. But that is wishful thinking.
Sliding my finger from his nose down to his neck, I cup his cock, feeling bold. I want this man on his knees for me. It’s not a competition, but I want everything that was before me erased from his memory. “Whatever you want.”
The vein in his neck throbs just like the one on his shaft.
An appreciative groan rumbles in his throat. “That’s a very dangerous idea. I would be careful about what I consent to if I were you.”
I wet my lips. They’re suddenly dry because this man makes me thirsty, delirious for more. I am not thinking clearly. My mind has taken a break as my body tries to escape the shackles.
Nothing could be bad because I want to try it all with him. He can smash my limits. I will break for him. That rush of endorphins is worth it because for a few blissful moments, I forget we’re forbidden. For those heavenly moments that we’re together, no one can take him from me.
“Oh, Mika, I’m not the one afraid here…”
Do I tease a beast in human form on purpose? Definitely.
His fingers curl around my neck, pushing my head back as he lowers his face to mine, his body shadowing mine. My heart thumps a wild rhythm, and goose bumps break out on my skin. I am dizzy on my feet, but that’s nothing new in his presence.
He cocks his head, eyes sparkling with awe. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
A cheeky grin tugs at the corners of my mouth. “For you?”
“For who fucking else if not for me?” he asks, his voice turning gravelly.
He has slipped more and more. Nothing compares to the feeling that our connection hasn’t been in my head but reciprocated from the very beginning.
“Mold me into whatever you want,” I say in complete surrender.
This is my gift to him—my body as his plaything. God knows I am a brat any other time, doing anything to get his attention.
His pupils darken, expanding over the silver. “Such a desperate little girl wanting to play in the big leagues.”
“It’s big all right, and I’m taking it just fine,” I say, my nails scratching along the vein on his cock. I own more than his attention. Right now, it feels as if I own his pleasure and so much more—his heart.
My world turns upside down, literally, when he throws me over his shoulder and brings me to his bed, tossing me onto it.
Yanking the drawer, he pushes a button inside, and the ceiling parts to reveal a mirror.
His tastes have always been different, more particular. I remember his father taunting him with that. How he likes his women in bed—sweaty, red, bound.
“Mika…”
“Yes, baby girl?”
“I want you to treat me like…” I can’t even say that. I yearn to please him, but at the same time I want to differ from everyone who came before me.
He understands where my thoughts go, his next gesture confirming it.
Gripping my chin, he says, “I fucked for the sake of chasing another thrill, discovering another high. I didn’t even notice those women.
They were good for only one thing. They weren’t mine.
I didn’t care what would happen to them once they left my bed.
But you, baby girl, are the exception—the heart that makes me still feel like a human. ”
A tear slides down my cheek, and he dabs it away with his thumb. “I’ll give you everything I have. Don’t worry. I won’t treat you as though you’re breakable. I lose my mind when I’m inside of you. Just say stop. Promise me if it gets too much, you’ll stop me.”
Each of the four chambers in my heart overflows with a love so great that it floods my chest.
Lifting on my toes, I hold his face between my hands and brush my nose against him. “I trust you with my life, Mika. That is yours too—just like my heart and body. I am a silly girl who is jealous of irrelevant women who came and left your life before me.”
My face falls, my shoulders drooping with the weight of my shame. I have absolutely no reason to behave this self-consciously.
“Look at me.”
Without thinking, I lift my chin, which quivers as I witness all the love and passion staring back at me. It only makes me feel worse.
“It has only been you for me. No one else but you. I ripped through your virginity and claimed you as mine. After tonight, you will never think of who came before you. I can’t even remember anyone before you.
There has been no one since then; all I remembered was being inside of you.
I knew it was wrong, but fuck, it felt good. It has haunted me.”
His confessions have a way of simultaneously making me an emotional mess and fortifying my confidence like nothing else.
“What are you waiting for?” I whisper, plunging right into all that is Mika, knowing I am always safe, forever loved.
He lowers his forehead onto mine, his hot breath fanning my lips. “To drive you crazy like you’ve made me. I am banging on insanity’s door and don’t care because I know you’re waiting for me on the other side.”
He kisses me with those soft yet unyieldingly firm lips. Every kiss is a testament of how he feels for me—softness and craving. Desperation and conflict. I kiss him back with ardor, our tongues creating a dance—fierce and sensual.
I want him to fill me, take care of the ache and leave behind soreness. A dichotomy I don’t care about understanding.
“I’ll tie you up. You will be on display for me. Spread. Bare. I will take you however I please, but tonight, I want you to watch us. Look at how my good girl becomes such a shameless slut for my cock.”
“I’m whatever you want, just stop teasing me.” I don’t recognize the whiny, needy sounds I make. How is it possible for my body to crave more?
Another slap comes, this one straight to my clit, and I arch my back as if wanting to greet the sweet torment instead.
“It’s torture either way. Having you, not having you,” I confess.
He drags me back by the ankles and erases the distance between our bodies. I look up and smile, loving the size difference, knowing I am so delicate he could break me if he wanted.
I must love danger. Nothing makes me feel more alive. But I am afraid I will overdose on adrenaline after years of abstinence.
His big hand splays on my stomach. It almost envelops it fully. An image passes before my eyes of him doing that to my round belly, carrying his child. The pregnancy I will never have. A child that will never happen.
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, it feels as if we share the invisible loss.
“Don’t know what to do with me?” I taunt him, not wanting the impossible dream to keep us from living our reality.
“Keep pushing me, baby girl.”
The threat reverberates through my core. My pussy walls constrict around air. I want his cock inside of me to fill the emptiness.
“So fucking hot for me,” he says almost reverently before he crawls into bed.
Dragging me onto his lap, he guides his shaft to my entrance. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”
I am about to push myself down when he grips my waist. “Slow. Don’t be greedy.”
I huff, letting him know I am not a fan of delayed gratification.
He chuckles and tips my head back. I get why he wants that. To watch my expression that contorts into pleasure, switches to pain, frustration and ecstasy in a decadent painting of lust as I take him.
By the time my pussy kisses his groin, I am all sweaty and moaning.
“That’s my good girl. So perfect for me,” he groans, his fingers digging into my waist, holding me in place.
I would do anything for his praise.
Fisting his hand in my hair, he nibbles along my neck but stays buried inside. It’s getting harder to breathe. The stretch and fullness drive me mad.
Tears gather in my eyes. “Please…please.”
“Look at my woman, such a mess. You look so beautiful crying for me.”
A tremor rocks me, and I bite into his shoulder, needing him to do something—relieve me of the pressure building inside of me.
He does it with such proficiency, completely shattering my world. He brings my hands to my back and holds them there while he moves inside me with a force that causes the bed to rock.
I am at his mercy. His. Nothing shows it clearer than the absolute grip he has on my body.
Pushing me back, he lifts my knees to my chest and says, “Hold them right there.”
Still a bit cognizant, I hold on to my knees while he fucks my pussy, filling it to the brim.
Looking up at the mirror ceiling, I’ve never seen the act like this—like a story our bodies spin, creating a tale of pure passion.
My pussy lips stretch, engulfing his cock.
He’s so big, and it’s one thing feeling it, but seeing it adds to the eroticism, leaving me breathless.
“You’re going to ruin my pussy.”
Thrust. “It’s mine to fucking ruin.” Thrust. “Now be a good girl—stuffed full and crying for more.”
It’s the deep thrusts combined with dirty talk that makes me a wanton mess. I am almost there when he pulls out, leaving me utterly bewildered.
I sit up, blinking, not knowing what happened. Only to see that smug look on his face.
“Were you trying to steal an orgasm? You come when I tell you to and not a second sooner.”
“Cruel,” I whine, falling back and accepting my fate.
I guess I found an area where my charm doesn’t work on him.
And that makes me burn even hotter.