Chapter 4
I’m not entirely sure what wakes me up. There’s no noise. The French doors leading to my balcony aren’t open. But something feels odd, so I open my eyes. I twist under the covers, switching to lay on my other side, and bring the covers higher.
I close my eyes again, but that feeling is still there. I sit up, fluffing my pillow, and turn around, finally facing my room.
The frightened gasp that leaves me is loud, my hand automatically coming to my heart as I freeze on the spot.
It only takes a split second for the surprise to settle, and for my conscious brain to take over, telling me this is a shadow I know perfectly.
He’s sitting on my desk chair, facing my bed, an ankle resting on his thigh, his hands linked on his stomach. I notice when he smiles because his white teeth flash in the dark.
“Chris!” I snap, sitting up in my bed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
His wide shoulders shake in the slightest when he laughs to himself. “I’m watching you sleep.” A simple statement, as if saying, you silly girl, isn’t it obvious?
“God, you’re so drunk.” I throw the covers off and stand up, rounding my bed to reach him. “Come on.” I wrap my hand around his, ignoring the electricity coursing through my body. “Let’s get you back home.”
It’s the worst mistake of my life to touch him. My heart is already begging me to never let him go. His warm skin against mine tells me he hasn’t just come in from the cold. He must have been watching me for a while.
But the biggest mistake was getting in his vicinity. The moment I try to pull him off the chair, he lets go of my hand, grabbing my waist instead.
He pulls me onto his lap without any struggle, and all sorts of resistance is useless. Chris must be over twice my weight. Our strengths don’t compare. I push at his shoulders, but he easily sits me on his lap. I’m facing him, straddling him.
“Chris, stop this right now.”
Ignoring my struggle, he slides a hand at the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling with the strands of my blonde hair. His hand at my waist turns into an arm encircling me.
And he pulls me against him. He forces my head to rest on his shoulder and buries his face in my hair.
“What—” His long inhale cuts me off.
“Fuck,” he exhales, like an addict who has been clean for months and finally gives into his most dangerous addiction. “I missed you, Sweets.”
I’m speechless for longer than I care to admit. Before I can stop myself, I’m relaxing in his strong hold, letting his muscles tighten around me. Before I can think straight, I inhale his cologne. Something so familiar. It’s discreet, soft, reassuring, nothing in your face. Just like him.
My legs tighten around his body, keeping him close to me.
You are so weak, Ella Baker.
I don’t know how long we hold each other before he speaks. “Say something.”
I keep my head in the crook of his neck when I answer, “I hate you.”
He chuckles against my hair. “Good. Better than nothing. I can work with hate.”
I shake my head. “No.” I look up, aware the only reason I can is because he lets me. “You don’t understand. I hate you.”
He licks his lips, looking at mine instead of my eyes. “I know. I deserve it.”
“I’ve moved on.”
He chuckles. “Now, Ella.” His voice lowers. “Good girls don’t lie.”
I know he can feel my thighs tensing. I wonder if he can feel my core beating against his crotch.
His grip on my hair tightens, stopping me from moving, forbidding me from even looking away from him.
I gulp. “Don’t…”
“Don’t what? Do this?” He kisses my jaw softly, his body tensing beneath mine and making me aware that he’s battling with himself to stay gentle.
“Don’t do this?”
My eyes flutter closed when his mouth moves to my throat, his lips pressing against my pulse.
“Chris,” I gasp. “No.”
I attempt to pull away, but his forceful grip forces me to stay still.
“What’s wrong? Do you hate me, or do you hate the way your body reacts to mine? Hate that you can’t move on because there’s nothing like what we had?”
“Your words. Not mine,” I say through clenched teeth as I push at his shoulders. “If you’re miserable, that’s not my problem.”
His honey eyes spark to life. I can see it even in the dark. A flame licking the pure whiskey, setting the liquor on fire.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Sweets. You know me. When there’s a problem, I fix it. If my issue is that I’m miserable, I know exactly what the solution is.”
“Don’t even go there.”
I’m tiring myself with my failed attempts at pulling away from him. My scalp is starting to sting from trying to turn my head one way or another in his relentless grip.
“You’re the solution, Ella,” he says with a tipped smile.
With that, he releases me to grab my waist. He stands up, lifting me up with him, and only needs to take two steps before he can drop me back on the bed.
I push up on my elbows, but he presses a hand on my chest, pushing me back down.
Fighting him is exhausting. I’m using all my strength for something that doesn’t affect him in the slightest. It’s not like I’m some weak little thing. I hit the gym every day, I run, I dance, I cheer, but six-foot-four of pure muscle isn’t exactly fair, is it?
He lays on top of me, my wrists in his large hands as he presses them on either side of my head. “I know how you’re feeling about the future right now.”
He parts my legs with his knee, sliding it up until it presses against me. He’s wearing jeans, and I’m wearing my sleep shorts, and yet I feel like we’re already on fire. “Let me make you forget. Just for tonight.”
Hesitation crawls up my chest. My body is thrumming, begging me to give in. His head drops, his mouth finding its way from my neck to my chest, until he wraps his lips around my hard nipple, wetting my shirt as he unleashes his tongue on me.
“Chris,” I moan, my hips bucking. The feeling of his harsh jeans against my core tightens the pressure inside me.
This is bad. I’m meant to be stronger than that. I should be fighting with all my might right now, not melting under his touch.
His head is above mine again, his eyes staring at my lips. Aware of his hard gaze, and desperate for him, I lick my lips. It makes him smile.
“Stop thinking, Little one. Let Daddy make it all better.”
That simple sentence melts any fight left in me.
I wish I was stronger, and I wish I was pushing him away right now. But I’m only human, and I’m fighting against someone who knows me by heart. Someone who knows what I crave and what makes me weak.
Chris built me. Every single erotic molecule in my body is a result of his own lust he imprinted on me when I was younger. I let him make me the way I am, and now I’m paying the consequences.
He owns my soul, feeds my lust, and the worst is…I want to let him.
“Shit.” I can barely hold back a moan as his mouth trails down my stomach. He stops at my mound, looking up from his tempting position. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of my shorts. “Now is your moment to stop me, Sweets. You know there’s no going back once I start.”
My mouth parts, ready to tell him to leave. My brain tries everything to force the words out of my mouth. Instead, I lick my lips, trembling with need.
And I say nothing.
“That’s my good girl.” His smile is nothing like the Chris everyone knows. It’s carnal, borderline perverse.
He is going to eat me alive.
He pulls down my shorts slowly, kissing my mound, then lower as his lips touch the small patch of hair I keep there, and then my slit.
He takes his time pulling my legs out of my shorts, and I do nothing, lying there with my hands still on either side of my head, not bothered to fight him back in the slightest.
I want this so badly my heart hurts. A need that pulls at my chest and sets my heart on fire.
I gasp when he palms my thighs. Spreading my legs until he can have a perfect view of my pussy. The shuddered breath he takes tells me it’s a chore to hold himself back.
“Oh, Sweets.” He smiles, but his eyes don’t leave my pussy. “You’re so wet. Look at this desperate little cunt. Are you aching for me?”
He lowers himself, not touching me on purpose, and my thighs shake when he spreads me wider. A hopeless whimper leaves me. I’m burning, ready to let the flames engulf me.
“Tell me,” he growls so close to my clit, his breath makes me tremble. “Tell me where you’re hurting. Daddy will make it better.”
I inhale, doing my best not to talk. I want to sin without engaging actively. Please, just let me pretend this pleasure is not coming straight from the devil.
“Ella.” I squeeze my eyes shut at his sharp voice. “Use your words and I’ll give you what you crave.”
I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I exhale a desperate, “Please.”
“That’s it.” He pinches my pussy lips together, tightening my slit so the chaste, closed-mouthed kiss he leaves on me doesn’t touch my clit. So my needy nub doesn’t get the pleasure it’s dying for. “What do you want? Give it to me and I’ll take care of you.”
“Chris…please…touch me.”
He chuckles, and I feel him shaking his head between my legs. “That’s not what I want to hear, and you know it.”
My trembling breath turns frantic. “P-please.” I gulp. “Please, Daddy.”
“Yes, Little one?” His wet tongue traces my slit, pressing between my lips in the slightest and making me gasp. He’s rewarding me, showing me I’m heading in the right direction.
And I do exactly what he wants. I lose myself.
“Daddy,” I whine. “Please, please, lick me. Fuck me with your tongue.”
“What a good fucking girl,” he growls. His fingers release the pressure on my lips, and instead he spreads me open.
His tongue unleashes on my clit, licking me from my entrance to the tight bundle of nerves, and I release a satisfied moan.
My hand slides to his soft hair, gripping the caramel waves.
“Yes,” I pant. Sparks inflame my desire, and I relish in the dangerous burn.
I push against his tongue, and he rewards me with hard strokes and relentless open-mouthed kisses.