“I caused the ache, and only I will make you come.”
I’m a ball of need as I lean my head against his palm cupping the back of it. I writhe, grasping at my last shred of rationality. “It’s a bad idea.”
“Why?”
“You’re in love with your ex.”
“You’re in love with yours,” he retorts harshly, before the timbre of his voice becomes bitter and sad. Then he utters, “A relationship can be over, but it doesn’t mean you stop loving them.”
His proclamation hits me square in the chest.
But not enough to douse our climbing lust.
Or the strange connection growing between us.
Curling my fingers around his biceps, I helplessly ask, “What do you want, Nathan?”
“I want you.” The hand on my belly snakes up to my throat. “Once.”
“No strings.”
“No love.”
Time stretches as we stare at each other. Could I do this? Sleep with a man without developing feelings? It would be one thing if we were never going to see each other again. Except, fate keeps crossing our paths over and over. However, I need to have him once, just to kill this arousing infatuation I feel toward him.
“Arya,” he growls impatiently.
“Okay.” I lick my lips. “Have me, Nathan.”
Chapter Nine
Nathan
Leaning against a table in a shaded corner, I wait for Arya in the deserted hallway.
She needed to bid her parents goodbye before she met me.
Or perhaps she needed a moment alone to shake off her nerves.
It was written all over her beautiful face that she had never had a one-night stand. She’s got the body of a sinner but has hardly ever walked on the wild side.
I want to change that.
Corrupt her purity.
Whisper filthy words in her ear to see how far the blush on her supple skin runs.
Never knew the thought of defiling someone would make my cock so hard.
Fuck. If she won’t find me, I will drag her to a corner and ravage her. I can imagine her having the tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked. As soon as the thought comes, I hear the soft thud of heels clicking on the floor and strutting in my direction.
A second later, Arya walks past me.
The back of her is just as perfect as the front of her. I admire her tall and slim frame with curves in all the right places. The tight little number she’s wearing barely conceals them for my viewing pleasure. It was made for her, leaving little to the imagination.
Dead silence descends in the hall as she pauses in her tracks.
Her short hair sways temptingly as she turns her head left and right, searching for me. I don’t miss the subtle slump of her shoulders when she sees no sign of me.
