Chapter 17
Natalia
There’s a knock on my door that ruins my perfect night with Binx and The Addam’s Family while wearing nothing but an oversized crewneck, oversized sweatpants, and fuzzy socks.
I left Lana and Christian’s almost an hour ago, feeling too drained to socialize in any capacity. Sometimes it’s too much, and recently, I’ve gone missing when it comes to my friends—leaving early or cancelling plans because I don’t have energy to do anything.
Which is why I groan loudly, telling whoever is on the other side of the door that I hate them for disturbing my wallowing. I drag my feet across the floor and unlock the door once I reach it.
The person on the other side…I can’t say I didn’t expect it. And I can’t say I’m upset about it either. I blink up at the handsome blond, still dressed in this evening’s Friendsgiving attire.
“You’re here,” Rowan breathes heavily, his face reddened by exertion. “You’re okay.”
“I am,” I say. “Rowan—”
“I just…” He pants, almost wheezing, his lungs evidently working hard to keep up with him. “I need…”
“Rowan, breathe.” I take a step and put my hand to his cheek, pressing my palm into his skin. I never thought I would be the one talking him through a panic attack. “Rowan. Breathe.”
Rowan nods, his blue eyes flitting to mine. “You’re okay,” he pants again and swallows, his breathing starting to slow. Then I’m swooped up in his arms, my feet off the ground, and his face buried in my neck. “You’re…”
“Rowan,” I breathe, and hold him close.
There’s grief pouring out of him, so dark and agonizing—looking at him is breaking me. If I pay close enough attention, I can feel the hammering of his heart against my chest.
“Rowan?” I whisper, my nails gently scratching his head. “I’m okay. Are you?”
My mistake was thinking that he’d loosen his suffocating arms just a smidge after hearing my reassurance, but instead, he steals all the oxygen from my body and I almost feel okay with it. This embrace he has me in is almost enough to feel…okay.
“Rowan?”
Slowly, hesitantly, his arms unfold from around my body and my toes touch the ground.
Just because he sets me down though, doesn’t mean he lets me go.
His hands remain on my hips and I slide my hands down from his hair, over his shoulders, and down his large, muscular arms until I’m holding onto his forearms. He didn’t even bother to put on his coat.
“Natalia,” he breathes.
“W-What are you doing here?” I blink rapidly, stammering. “How did you even get in?”
“Someone left as I came in and I ran up the stairs,” he says, his voice steadier yet still shaky. “You’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” I ask quietly and carefully.
“I just…” He shakes his head like he can’t fathom the thought he just had. “Why did you leave, Natalia?”
“I had a migraine,” I lie and drop my hands, taking a step further into the apartment. Quietly, I try to quip with a smile, “And now, you’re giving me another one.”
He doesn’t laugh; I don’t think he even heard me.
Rowan takes one large step inside, forcing me to take four small steps back, and he closes the apartment door behind him. “Natalia, why did you leave like that?”
“I already told you, I wasn’t feeling well,” I insist.
“Natalia…please.” His nostrils flare enough for me to know he won’t accept any more of my lies. They flare enough to tell me that he’s tired and hurt.
My breath comes out heavily as I stare up at him, tugging at the sleeves of my sweater. I shake my head for some reason and rock on my heels. “I…”
His eyes…
They’re red and shattered. He is shattered and he won’t say why, and I don’t know what else to do—what to say. My communication skills remain abysmal.
Something inside of me snaps, craving him in his entirety.
I climb the man, throwing my arms around his neck and crashing my lips to his, my toes barely touching the floor.
His arm comes around my waist firmly, lifting me off the floor and against his body.
My legs wrap around him as best as they can before he sets me down on the back of the sofa, standing between my legs.
“Natalia,” he mumbles on my lips, and I undo his belt and pants, pulling his shirt out of them with trembling fingers. In a shaky, quiet rasp, he mutters, “Please.”
“Rowan,” I breathe and slip my tongue back between his lips, hoping that I’m kissing him hard enough to distract him too. “I need you.”
“Fuck, sweetheart.” His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down my jaw and neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin over my pulse. “Where?”
“The bed,” I moan, arching when his hands slip beneath my long sleeve, drifting up my curves.
His long fingers mold against my ribs and the image of his hands breaking through the cage protecting my heart rattles me.
He’d protect it with his life. His thumbs sweep just beneath the swell of my breasts and I shudder. “Bed.”
He pulls me hard against his body, his hands beneath each cheek of my ass, holding me up higher so I’m level with his mouth. Like muscle memory, he finds his way to my bedroom and my fingers undo each button of his shirt carefully, even though I’m anxious to rip it open. I have some patience.
Rowan releases me and my body falls back on my mattress, bouncing as he kneels between my spread legs. He removes his shirt and tosses it elsewhere, and I sit up to remove my crewneck.
He bends to kiss between my breasts and down to below my belly button, his fingers curling at the waistband of my sweats.
He tugs them down, down, down, kissing each inch of skin that becomes exposed until I am utterly naked.
His lips brush ever so slightly across the scars at the top of my left thigh.
Thankfully, the dark of my room doesn’t permit a good view of them, but still, the gesture softens me instead of embarrassing me.
I don’t always have to hide them from him.
He kisses back up my body until his tongue reaches my nipple. “How do you want me to fuck you, Natalia?”
I moan when his teeth graze at the hard peak. “Good.”
Rowan chuckles and brings his focus to my other nipple, grazing his teeth and swirling his tongue, the precision sending volts of pleasure down to my core and making me clench around nothing, the emptiness utterly painful.
“Rowan,” I whimper and he kisses a slow path down my body, dragging his tongue across my skin.
“What do you need, sweetheart?”
“You,” I breathe. It’s the only thing that comes to mind. The only answer there is to his question—all the questions. “You.”
“Please,” he whispers. “Tell me.”
“I’m fine,” I whisper back. “I’m fine.”
He seems to believe me—more than I believe myself—and he lowers his face between my legs. The flat of his tongue does one slow, long sweep up my pussy, and my back bows off the bed.
“Yes,” I moan quietly. My hands find his hair, certainly causing him some sort of pain as I pull, and my legs tighten around his head.
His tongue flicks over my clit, sucking and granting it special attention.
Then I feel his fingers at my entrance, teasing and pulling sounds out of my mouth I make only for him.
Those two fingers slide inside of me and curl, making me cry out his name.
“God, Natalia,” he growls as his tongue licks over every crevice. “I could eat you out all day.”
I whimper loudly, my hips bucking and grinding against his face. But my undulating hips come to a halt when his hands grip the backs of my thighs and spread me open for him, bringing my knees to the sides of my chest.
“Rowan,” I moan. “Rowan, I can’t…”
“One more,” he says against my pussy, the reverberations of his voice on my flesh sparking pleasure on my clit.
My protests come out in gibberish, but it does nothing to stop him. My right hand delves into his hair, tugging hard, and I bite into the back of my left hand, keeping my screaming and squealing muffled.
“Oh god,” I mumble.
I can’t control the trembling in my legs, the way they press against his hold and threaten to clamp around his head, and the way my entire body breaks into a violent sweat, all of my limbs trembling.
“Rowan! Fuck!”
The sounds coming out of me are ones I have never heard before—none I never thought I was capable of making. But here I am, also feeling pleasure I never thought was possible.
My body sinks into my mattress as I come down from the high, his tongue now moving languidly, but with each pass over my clit my body twitches. Rowan groans, entirely satisfied with himself, and my eyelids grow too heavy to lift.
“Rowan,” I whisper. “Come here.”
“Natalia, I’m fine,” he says and kisses a line from inner thigh to my hipbone.
I peel my eyelids open and find his ocean blue irises. Even though Rowan might have sent me into a blissful death, I’m still aching with emptiness.
“I’m not. Come here,” I breathe and urge him above me with my hands in his hair, tangling my fingers in the strands. “Please.”
Rowan crawls over me, settling in the cradle of my legs, and my other arm winds around his warm muscular body. “Natalia.”
“Please.” I quiet him by pulling his lips down to mine. I lift my hips and smooth a hand down his body until I have it splayed against his lower back and press down, hard. “I need you.”
“Sweetheart,” he breathes, his voice low and soft against my lips. “I always need you.”
“I need you to need me right now,” I croak quietly.
“I do.” His hand, reverent as ever, smooths up and down my leg—starting wide at my hip, fingers spreading across my scarred thigh, and wrapping around my calf as he brings my leg around his waist. “You have no idea.”
“Yeah?” I nudge his lips with my own. “Show me.”
Rowan nips at my bottom lip. “Condom, sweetheart.”
I shake my head and keep moving my lips across his, my hands in his hair holding him close.
“Nata—”
“I’ve gotten tested,” I moan, rolling my hips against his cock, his tip nudging at my clit. “And I’m on the shot.”
“Sweetheart—” Rowan rasps.
“Rowan…Don’t,” I murmur. “Not right now. Just do this for me. Please.”