30. Chapter Thirty - Sexual Frustration
“Firstly, who said I wanna fuck you?” I puffed my cheeks, my thighs wiggling at the thought. My mind still spun from the orgasm last night and the way I wished Culver’s eyes had locked onto me the whole time. “And secondly, who even said anything about a date?”
The thought of actually going on a date with him sent a rush of excitement through me that I couldn’t shake, picturing something real and normal with him almost feeling too perfect to actually happen.
His eyes held mine, a flash of possession flickering through them.
“To answer your first question, I believe your actions have been speaking louder than your words.” His tongue slid across his teeth, and my imagination instantly pictured it flicking against my clit. “Secondly, I am asking you now. Would you enjoy a date with me, Ira?”
Every time he said my name, I wanted to whimper.
Instead, I darted my eyes away, my brattiness shining through. “Who’d even wanna date you? I mean… what would we even do?”
“Is that a yes?” He hummed in satisfaction, his hand gliding across my thigh and sending electricity through my body.
I inhaled sharply as he reversed the car and put us back on the road, my eyes locking onto his again. I wanted so badly to push back, to keep drawing this out and teasing him longer.
But in the end, I nodded. “Yes,” I said softly. “I wanna go somewhere good to eat.”
“Are you interested in more than that?” He squeezed my thigh, reassuring and maddening all at once.
“Maybe if you treat me to a fancy place.” I flushed, taking his hand from my thigh and holding it with both of mine near my face. “I’ll give you a treat too.”
His eyes fluttered toward mine.
I swear he growled, excitement flickering through his features.
“I was not suggesting anything sexual, but now you have me intrigued…” He paused before sliding his cool hand along my cheek.
I nuzzled into it, my cheeks warming without permission.
“No. I was asking if you are up for more than just food, my little lamb. A stroll through the park, a museum perhaps, or even a trip to the shopping center?”
My body went still as embarrassment washed over me.
I realized how quickly I’d thrown my pride out the window for the promise of a nice meal. Images of dropping to my knees for Culver kept flooding my head, making me feel like I was already halfway there.
“Oh.” I gulped and tried to lean away from his hand, but he insistently kept me there.
“No need to fret.” He slid a strand of hair through his fingers. “I promise not to bite off more than I can chew.”
Was that his way of letting me know he wasn’t pushing for sex?
A strange disappointment still settled over me.
“If…” I paused, gathering myself. Yeah, he deserved a little something after all the back and forth. Honestly, I figured giving him a real reason to stick around might be worth it in the long run. “If you want, I can give you a blowjob while driving.”
My mouth dried at the idea.
I hadn’t been into giving head since my first awkward experience, but the thought of wrapping my lips around Culver and feeling him lose it sent a thrill through me. My hips shifted restlessly against the seat on their own.
His eyes bore into mine.
“You are such a mischievous little lamb,” he ground out. “It takes all of my restraint to hold back in your presence. You ask me to show you that I am here with my actions, and yet you tempt me time and time again.”
I bit my lip, trying to follow his line of thought.
“Culv.” I leaned forward, uncertainty threading through my tone. But I needed to push through this. I knew guys lied, but I felt like I could at least drag the truth out of Culver if I asked directly.
I inhaled, held my breath, and gave in. “If I fuck you, will you leave me?”
By now we had parked somewhere. I had no idea where, but I knew we’d stopped because his eyes locked onto mine and never left.
There was a quiet intensity in them.
Then he grabbed my chin and brought me closer. It wasn’t rough, but he made it clear I was in his space.
“Ira,” he exhaled, his voice quieter and steadier than before, “your mind does exhaust me at times, though I believe I understand your hesitation. You have been disappointed before by boys who were never worth the space they occupied in your life, and now their failures linger where they ought not, convincing you I might become another wound to carry.”
His thumb brushed slowly along my jaw.
“But I am not them. If I did not want you near me, I would never have allowed this at all. You would never have come close enough to matter. Yet here you are, because from the moment you entered my life, there was nothing ordinary left in it.” His eyes darkened.
“You are not something I tolerate, Ira. You are everything that has meaning to me, everything that has made restraint feel impossible.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“And I can tell you with certainty,” he continued softly, “I have no intention of letting you go. If anything, it has always been your leaving that I feared.”
I inhaled shakily, feeling as though everything around me was spinning too fast.
One second I was drawing firm lines in my head about not doing anything reckless or impulsive, and the next I was laying my heart bare for him and getting his right back in return.
“Why would I run?” My brows knitted together as I tried to understand. “Because people say you’re a killer?”
He paused, giving me that familiar I’m not telling you look, and honestly, I should’ve expected it from him. Still, I had to try.
Instead of answering, he stepped out of the vehicle. When he opened my door, he held his hand out for me to take. I hesitated. Then I took it.
He lifted me up against him before I’d even properly looked around at our surroundings. Somehow it always went that way with him.
His fingers slid around my waist, electrifying me and making me ache for more.
“Because,” he responded breathily, “…I have a rather dull personality.”
I tilted my head at him.
“You can be quiet sometimes, but I don’t think you’re boring, Culv. You can hold a conversation even if it’s mostly teasing, and you’re good at keeping me entertained.” My hand drifted up his chest, feeling the solidness beneath my fingers. “So no, I don’t think you’re boring.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “And should I ask you the same question? How long will that last?”
His earlier words flickered back into my mind. The thought annoyed me enough that I puffed my cheeks out while letting my hand trail higher against him.
“If I was gonna get bored of you,” I muttered, “I would’ve already done that…”
“And I am the same.” He took my hand and raised it to his chilled cheek. “Are you ready to enjoy our date?”
My eyes finally drifted away from him long enough to take in our surroundings.
We stood outside a restaurant. A fancy restaurant.
Somewhere in the city, I assumed, though I still barely knew where I was half the time. Everything screamed polished perfection, from the glowing entrance to the expensive cars lined neatly along the curb.
“I guess it’s a good thing I’m wearing a dress.” I backed away from Culver, straightening it and quickly removing my sweater.
I’d picked the dress that morning because I was exhausted from squeezing into jeans and leggings every day and wanted something that felt more put together without all the effort. But the second the sweater came off, the cold hit me hard, and my hair had already turned into a tangled mess.
I frantically tried taming it with my fingers while feeling his gaze on me the entire time.
His arms folded across his chest as he leaned casually against the car. “Almost ready?”
I glared at him, smoothing my hair down again.
“You’re lucky I’m actually wearing something nice. What if I’d shown up in leggings to a restaurant like this?”
I hugged the sweater tighter around myself, clinging to it for warmth.
He moved away from the car, took my hand, and gently brushed some strands of hair back into place. “Whatever you wear… it is always enticing. You are beautiful, Ira.”
My cheeks flamed as I stared up at him, fully aware that showing up here in leggings and a ratty shirt would’ve made me stick out horribly.
“But you do know wearing anything else wouldn’t have been appropriate!”
“This ivory color looks beautiful on you,” he hummed, sliding his hand along my collarbone before gliding it up around my neck and pulling me closer. “Is this also something from Golden Valor?”
“My whole closet is practically your company’s clothes,” I muttered, instantly imagining Culver’s hand tightening around my throat.
The thought sent a thrill through me, the image of his fingers tightening just enough to make my pulse race beneath his touch.
“I shall send you more,” he said, backing away slightly, his fingers gliding across my arm in a tingling trail before catching my hand in his. “Monopolizing your wardrobe.”
I scoffed, allowing him to tug me along.
“That makes me wanna wear literally anything except your clothing brand, by the way.”
“Has anyone ever called you a brat?” he questioned as we approached the door.
“Maybe…” I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself. “Once or twice.”
“They may have been the only ones to have been honest with you.”
Culver opened the door for me, revealing a grand dining room beneath a massive chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.
The space was lavish in a way that almost didn’t feel real, with deep burgundy walls trimmed in gold and low amber lighting casting everything in a warm, honeyed glow.
Private rooms lined the edges behind arched doorways and velvet curtains, giving the restaurant an intimate hush despite its size.
Only a few people sat in the main dining area, scattered far enough apart that their conversations blended into soft murmurs beneath the faint clink of crystal glasses and polished silverware.