Chapter Three #2
The conversation shifts from awkward small talk into comfortable conversation, and even after the food arrives, we keep talking.
I listen intently, my eyes barely leaving her mouth.
I’m infatuated with how her lips curve when she smiles and how soft they look when she gets self-conscious.
She tells me about the books and music she likes, what she’s most excited about in her classes, and how life at home has been.
I realize we have a lot more in common than I thought, and soon the conversation feels natural.
We order dessert. For the paparazzi, of course, I hold out a forkful of cheesecake to her. “Ladies first.” I smile.
Her eyes light up and she bites her lip. My heart races as she leans in and wraps her mouth around the fork, letting it slide smoothly between her lips.
I’m frozen in place, arm still out, watching her mouth.
I want to kiss her.
Lana covers her mouth and giggles, her cheeks turning pink beneath her blush. Something rears up inside me, even though I know the paparazzi are waiting to photograph us together.
Coming back into my body, I smile at her and we finish the dessert. By the time we pay the bill and get up to leave, I can feel the electricity pulsing through the air between us, drawing us closer together.
Lana settles the strap for her purse over her shoulder and I reach out my hand.
She hesitates for a fraction of a second, then takes it.
Sparks dance up my arm at the feel of her soft skin.
I lace our fingers together, and she squeezes once.
I’m acutely aware of her hand gripping mine as we weave between tables, and my jaw tightens every time I catch another man watching her walk by.
We take one step out of the restaurant and are met with a blinding explosion of camera flashes. Paparazzi step out from behind cars and bushes, lenses clicking furiously.
I step partially in front of her, trying to shield her from the onslaught.
“Ryan! Smile for the camera!” One shouts.
“Is this her? She’s so beautiful. Kiss her for the camera!” Another shouts.
I glance down at Lana, fully expecting her to be reeling back into herself. But she seems relatively calm all things considered.
I lean in to speak against the shell of her ear. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with this. We can just walk to the car. I’ll deal with the fallout later.”
She shudders as my breath ghosts across her skin. Looking up at me, she wraps both arms around my neck.
I barely manage a breath before my lips are on hers, pulling her into a deep kiss. She sinks into it, and her grip around me tightens. I wrap my arms around her, my brain short circuiting, making the flash of cameras and shouts of excitement die away. My entire focus is honed on Lana.
She teases my lip with her tongue, careful and hesitant, and a low growl vibrates my chest. These reporters don’t get to see her like this.
I pull away, glancing at her kiss-swollen lips. She’s breathless and panting, trying to regain her composure. There are whoops and cheers from the paparazzi when I smile and grab her hand. I quickly lead her to the car waiting for us at the curb.
I shield her with my body as she climbs in, preventing the paparazzi from getting any inappropriate shots of her. She slides across the seat, watching me with a dazed look in her eyes.
I follow her in, shutting the door. I knock on the privacy screen between us and the driver and turn to pin Lana to the seat as the car begins moving.
“Ryan—” she starts, looking up at me as the passing streetlights cast shifting shadows across her face.
Before she can continue, I kiss her again, my lips pressing gently to hers despite my urge to claim her roughly. She seems so innocent; I don’t want to scare her off before I’ve gotten to have her.
She melts into the kiss, and my cock hardens against my zipper, pressing uncomfortably. I imagine her soft lips, currently pressed against mine, wrapped around me. I groan, and Lana lets out a sound that makes me weak.
“If you want me to stop, just say so,” I whisper against her lips, letting my hands slip down the sides of her torso to her waist. She nods, and I keep moving. One hand gripping her hip and the other tracing a path to the space between her thighs.
She gasps as I kiss my way across her jaw and down her throat. I kiss every inch of smooth skin until I reach the neckline of her dress before raising up again.
The car hits a bump and she lets out a squeak. I hold her in place on the leather seat and spread her thighs with my hand. She stares at me with glassy, wide eyes, her pupils blown.
“Has anyone ever touched you here, Lana?” Possessiveness surges through me at the thought.
She shakes her head.
“I need your words. I won’t touch you without explicit consent,” I insist.
“No. Just…” She blushes, and looks down at her lap, then back up at me through thick lashes. “Just me.”
“Good.” The gravel in my voice makes her shiver, and I feel pride swell in my chest. I’m her first.
I slowly push my fingers against her core, taking satisfaction in how damp her panties are. The lace barely covers her and I groan, leaning in to kiss her as I slip my fingers under the thin fabric separating us.
She gasps, and I capture the sound by deepening the kiss, taking my time as I run my fingers through her slickness. She pushes her hips against my hand, and I chuckle, feeling her shiver again.
“Is this what you want, baby girl?” I ask, swirling my thumb around her clit.
“Oh god.” She squirms at the light pressure. I press a little harder and carefully slide my middle finger into her.
“That’s it, Lana, I’ve got you,” I murmur into her ear, kissing across her cheek to her lips.
She grips my shoulders tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric of my button down shirt.
I carefully add a second finger as I pump into her, taking in how she moans and looks at me like I’m the only person in the world.
“Close your eyes,” I command. I know we're getting close to the apartment, and I want her to come on my fingers before we do.
She listens, and her chest heaves as I quicken my movements. Her inner walls clench around my fingers, holding me so tight my cock aches for her.
“Ryan!” she shouts. Fluid rushes down my hand as she tenses around me. I rub gentle circles around her clit, gritting my teeth to keep from coming in my pants as she slumps back into the seat, panting.
I slowly draw my hand away, grinning as she looks at my soaked hand in surprise. Without a word, I take my fingers into my mouth, sucking them clean. Her pupils shift and widen again, staring at me with desire and awe.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, smirking as her chest and neck flush.
The car slows and comes to stop, and the driver knocks on the privacy screen. I open it and he says, “We’re here, sir.”
“Thank you.” I shut the window again and hold out a hand to Lana. “Shall we?”
***
The second we’re back in the penthouse, Lana drops to her knees.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” I reach for her, caught completely off guard. It’s not that I don’t want this. The sight of her looking up at me has every bit of blood in my body rushing south, but I don’t want her doing anything because she thinks I expect it.
“I saw it in a movie once,” she says, those big doe eyes fixed on mine. “The guy seemed to really like it.” A nervous smile tugs at her lips. “Let me try?”
Fuck.
“Only if you want to.”
She nods and reaches for my zipper, her fingers trembling just enough that I notice. The nervousness should probably make this easier to resist. Instead, knowing she trusts me enough to explore this with me makes it nearly impossible.
“Lana, you don’t have to—Fuck.”
My head falls back against the door at her tentative touch.
“Tell me what you like,” she whispers.
I look down at her, fighting for control. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. Just take your time.”
Her eyes stay on mine as she experiments, watching my face for every reaction. I try to keep still, letting her set the pace instead of taking over. When a quiet sound escapes me, a tiny, pleased smile appears on her face.
Christ, she’s going to kill me.
My fingers slide into her hair, not guiding, just needing somewhere to put my hands. The moment becomes almost unbearable—the trust in her expression, the realization that she’s learning what I like simply by watching me.
“Stop,” I finally manage.
She freezes, uncertainty immediately replacing that little smile. “I’m so sor—”
I pull her to her feet and cut her off with a kiss.
Her dress rides up as I carry her down the hall, and the feel of her pressed against me makes it nearly impossible to think straight.
I kick open my bedroom door and lower her onto the bed. For a second, I just look at her—hair mussed, lips swollen from kissing me, cheeks flushed pink.