CHAPTER 16
Samia
Being sexually frustrated is a form of torment.
In every way possible.
For days, Kian hasn’t so much as touched me other than hugs and kisses. He hasn’t crawled over me in bed or made me come until my hair curled.
What in the hell? Suddenly, my boyfriend discovered manners.
We go to bed together like a couple who’s been married for decades, but it’s only to sleep. And it’s consuming my thoughts, making me ache for his passionate touch most explicitly.
He gave me a taste of his passion several nights ago. How dare he withhold the goodies now?
I’m furious and ready to unleash on Kian after an encouraging shower conversation with myself. With the towel bound tightly around my chest and my hair a damp mess down my back, I stomp to where he’s sitting. Every morning since we’ve been at his place, I wake to find him enjoying a coffee and scrolling on a tablet, checking his business portfolio.
It’s pretty remarkable how he successfully portrays himself as an upstanding Wall Street type entrepreneur, concealing his true identity as an underground import criminal. When I broached the topic, he told me a little about his business and how he’s grown it into a massive operation today. I expected him to navigate his way out of the rumors circulating for years. Surprisingly, Kian left nothing unanswered.
Instead of being alarmed by the fact that my boyfriend is involved in illegal activities and taking risks that would scare anyone else, I felt a stronger emotional connection to him.
Seeing him so at ease as he brings the white cup to his perfectly kissable lips puts fireworks in my belly.
He’s pushed me to accept him as my man for weeks, and now I’m here. He’s instead content to play domestic bliss and not touch me. It’s outrageous, and I’m going to tell him so!
Kian’s gaze rises from the tablet, and he smiles as I approach. He takes another sip and places the coffee on the kitchen island. The early morning sun is still cresting across the skyscrapers and streaming in from the window to cast a heavenly glow around him. A fake wash of godliness because Kian is far from being a divine being.
“Why so cranky this morning, dreamgirl?” his mouth twitches at the edge even as his eyes rake over me from top to toe possessively.
If only his hands would follow.
Perhaps that tour bus shook something in my head when it collided with me. It loosened my inhibitions because I’ve never been prone to outbursts. I’ve forever been the good girl wallflower, the rule follower, the people pleaser, and the one who avoids conflicts at all costs.
Being around a rule-breaking MacNamara has rubbed off on me because I get in Kian’s personal space, poking a finger into his pec muscles. I see his light-colored eyebrows hitch onto his forehead as if he’s surprised by my actions. He better get ready for more.
“You are why I’m cranky.”
He should know he’s the source of my abstract torture. Him and his gorgeous face.
“Me? What did I do? It’s only seven in the morning, baby, I haven’t had time to piss you off yet.” He chuckles faintly like I’m being oh-so-silly. That fuels my temper even more, and I poke his rock-hard chest over the light blue t-shirt he’s wearing. He looks incredible in anything he wears, and he has a body to suit every outfit, from the sexy formal to something more casual, like his sinful workout clothes that cup his rock-hard ass. I discovered we have a private gym in the building, so I see him in those fuckable outfits a lot, driving me mad.
Over the past few days, I’ve wandered around our exclusive building, trying to jog my memory. The resident-only amenities include a state-of-the-art gymnasium, a lap pool, VIP boutiques, and a bar area. It also boasts a yoga and Pilates studio, a climbing wall, a pool on the rooftop, a place for kids, a spa, and a steam room. But my favorite part is the rooftop lounge. Small tables are situated to overlook the entire city. After Kian came home, we spent time up there last night. It was nice snuggling up with him and talking about everything. He had me laughing so hard that I thought I might pass out. We indulged in a few drugging kisses, but he had to leave for a work meeting, and I was fast asleep when he got back.
Only the imprint on the pillow next to me told me he’d been in bed at all.
“What did you do? I’m about to tell you what you did.” I snap, and he ruins my head of steam by smiling, indulging me.
“Go ahead, baby, tell me what I can do to make it right.”
“We’re living together. You’re my boyfriend, yet you don’t touch me!” I throw the words at him like they’ll physically leave bruises on his flawless face.
Who is this Shero, and what has she done with my shy self?
I expect a smirk or a laugh in response to my outburst.
But what whips the air in my lungs is the desire that darkens his eyes. It’s immediate, and suddenly, my fingers grip the towel like a lifeline, unsure what to do now I have his full, undiluted attention.
It’s intoxicating, like the biggest head rush I’ve ever experienced.
But Kian’s devilish sex stare is nothing in comparison when he says, “Drop the towel, Samia.”
Drop. The. Towel.
Does he mean this towel? My towel? The towel around my very naked body?
If anything, my fingers latch on even tighter. It’s like I’m stranded at sea on a crappy piece of wood.
But then I realize, as Kian stares at me with dirty intentions unmasked in his eyes, this is what I want. Why else would I banshee rant at him if it wasn’t to put my money where my mouth is?
So I inhale and don’t think about being so exposed in front of the hottest man alive. Reminding myself that he’s my man and has seen me naked countless times before. I have no recollection, but Kian does. And if he didn’t enjoy my body, he’d have found an excuse to end things.
I let go of the towel. It pools around my feet. Kian doesn’t even give me a once-over. While his eyes remain filled with passion, Kian’s demeanor is visibly agitated. His eyes grow duskier, and he inhales rapidly.
My nakedness stirs him, and I’ve never felt so empowered.
“You want my attention, baby?” he steps off the stool, giving me the staggering poise of his height as he comes closer. A hand cups the side of my face. His smile should be comforting, but the anxious shudder goes down my back as that hand slips lower, stroking around my throat and then down between my breasts. “Take a nice breath, because I’m about to remind you of a few things.”
I don’t know what he means, but I follow his instructions, and before the air can exhale from my mouth, Kian picks me up and places my very naked backside on the kitchen island.
He laughs as I squeal, grabbing his shoulders. And I have no idea what kind of Kraken I’ve unleashed.
But I can’t wait to discover what he has in store for me.