Chapter 17
Darius
“Darius.” She sounded breathless and panicked. “Darius, I… I need to come over.”
I sat up immediately, suddenly wide awake. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I think…” Her breath hitched. “I think someone’s following me. I was working late at the office, and when I left, there was this car…”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m on Dale Ave. I just… I need to see you. I need to feel safe. Can I come over? Please?”
My heart was racing. We’d been so distant lately and careful around each other since the engagement. This felt like something breaking open, like she was finally going to fully let me in. “Of course. Yes. Come over. I’m here.”
“Thank you.” Solei’s voice cracked. “I just… I really need you right now.” Then, the line went dead.
I threw off the covers and stood there for a moment in the darkness with my mind racing.
Someone following her from the office? It didn’t make sense, but the fear in her voice had been real.
I moved quickly, stripping the bed and putting on fresh sheets.
Then, I took a fast shower, scrubbing away the sleep and the staleness.
I changed into clean boxers and a t-shirt before straightening up the bedroom.
My hands were shaking slightly as I worked. This was it. This was the moment we’d been circling around for days. She was coming to me, choosing me, and needing me. Whatever distance had grown between us was about to close.
I heard Solei’s car pull up outside twenty minutes later. I was at the door before she could knock, pulling it open to find her eyes low and dark. Her blouse was slightly unbuttoned, and her normally perfect hair was wild.
“Hey,” I started. “Are you…?” She launched herself at me. Her mouth crashed against mine, hard and desperate, and her hands fisted in my shirt. I stumbled backward, caught off guard, my arms coming up to her waist automatically. “Solei…”
She kissed me again, deeper this time, her tongue sliding against mine. A moan escaped her throat that sent heat straight through me. Her hands pulled at my shirt, sliding under the fabric as nails scraped against my skin. This wasn’t like her. This wasn’t how we were together.
“Wait, what…?” I tried to pull back to look at her and understand what was happening.
“Don’t talk.” She kissed me again, biting my bottom lip. “Please don’t talk. I just need… I need this.”
Her hands found the waistband of my boxers, tugging them down with an urgency that made my breath catch.
I was already hard, and when her hand wrapped around me, I groaned.
Solei was already pulling me in the direction of my bedroom, her mouth never leaving mine, and her free hand working at the rest of the buttons of her blouse.
By the time we reached the bed, she’d stripped down to her bare skin, and I was completely naked, my shirt discarded somewhere in the hallway.
She pushed me down onto the mattress and climbed on top of me, straddling my hips.
I could feel the heat of her pussy. “Condom,” she breathed against my mouth.
I reached for the nightstand drawer, fumbling with the box, my hands clumsy with need and confusion.
She took it from me, tearing it open with her teeth, rolling it down my length with practiced efficiency.
And then she was sinking down onto me, taking me in one smooth motion with her head falling back.
I watched a moan tear from her throat that sounded almost like pain being released.
“Fuck,” I gasped. “Solei…”
She started moving immediately. No adjustment period or build.
Just hard, aggressive dick riding that had me gripping her hips, my fingers digging into her skin.
This wasn’t how we had sex. Our intimacy was always careful and planned.
Soft music, dim lights, and slow, measured movements.
This was raw, desperate, and almost violent in its intensity.
Her pussy was soaking wet, her body gripping me tight, her movements frantic. Her hands braced on my chest, her nails leaving marks, her hips rolling and grinding in a rhythm that felt practiced but not with me.
“Baby, what…?” I tried to sit up, but she pushed me back down and kissed me hard, swallowing my words. Her tongue slid against mine, her teeth catching my lip, and when I tried to speak again, she shushed me with another kiss. So I stopped trying to talk.
I let myself feel it instead. The wet heat of her, the tight grip of her body, the way she was riding me like she was trying to fuck something out of her system.
It felt better than anything we’d done before, but something was wrong.
I could feel it in the way she moved. The way she wouldn’t look at me, let me speak, or wouldn’t slow down enough for this to be about us.
This wasn’t about making up and connecting.
This was about escape. Solei was using me.
The thought should have bothered me more than it did.
I should’ve made myself stop and get some answers, but my body didn’t care about the why.
My body only cared about the sensation of her riding me hard, her moans filling the room, her wetness coating my thighs. I fucking missed her pussy.
“Solei,” I groaned, my hands sliding up to cup her breasts. “Goddamn, baby…”
She leaned down and kissed me again, her movements never slowing.
Her breath was coming in short gasps, her body trembling, and I realized she was close.
I thrust up to meet her, trying to give her what she needed, trying to be what she needed.
Her moans got louder, more desperate, and I felt her tighten around me.
But when she came, crying out and shuddering above me, she didn’t say my name. She didn’t say anything. Just a wordless cry that sounded like grief and release all mixed together. The realization hit me like ice water even as my own orgasm built.
This wasn’t about me. This had never been about me.
I was just a body, a distraction, and a way for her to forget something else.
I came anyway, my body betraying my mind, pleasure crashing through me even as my heart sank.
She collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat.
I wrapped my arms around her automatically, holding her close, feeling her heart racing against my chest.
We lay there in silence. I wanted to ask her what just happened.
I wanted to ask if she was okay and whether this was about us or something else entirely.
I wanted to ask whether the person she’d been running from was really a stranger in a car, or someone much more dangerous. But I didn’t ask any of those things.
Deep down, I already knew the answers, and I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing them out loud. Her breathing eventually evened out, her body going heavy against mine. I thought she might have fallen asleep, but then she spoke, her voice small and broken.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here. For being... my safe space.”
The word ‘safe’ settled in my chest. I was safe, stable, and predictable.
Everything she said she wanted when she agreed to date me.
But lying there in the darkness, holding a woman who’d just fucked me like she was trying to exorcise a demon, I finally understood the truth.
Safe wasn’t what she wanted or needed, and I was never going to be enough.
Not when she was still running from someone who made her feel anything but safe. Not when every desperate movement of her hips had been trying to forget someone else’s touch. Not when the woman in my arms was still completely, utterly, devastatingly in love with Money.