Chapter 13
Valencia
The soup sat on the kitchen stove, cold and forgotten as I began kissing this man. I had long ago left the lips and was traveling down through his neck and collarbone already.
He was still for a while before his hands gripped me too tight and then he pushed me further up on the kitchen counter, his hands digging into the inside of my thighs.
“Aah,” I let out a small whimper as I let my hands roam over that ripped body that he had only shown me once in a cruel way of torture.
He had sent me a pic of himself just in a towel and ever since then I had wondered how it would feel to roam my hands all over him.
I just didn’t know the day would arrive so soon.
Back in my childhood, I was taught to be prim and polite, the perfect girl who would not even dare to look at the boys joining me for the playdates.
But I had left that girl behind at my home. And another one had taken her place. A one who was focused too much on work and making a name for herself in this world of alphas who didn’t give a shit about a female.
However, I still yearned for company.
And I had not felt that gaping hole in my life until that day when I spotted Ian in Wolves and Whiskey.
My playdates and the pressure of being picked by some alpha’s son I didn’t even know the name of-those memories felt like ghostly shadows now. Faint. Powerless.
Ian was here, real and solid, and the way his hands were gripping me made it impossible to think about anything else.
His mouth met mine again, more demanding this time, coaxing mine open with an insistence that sent my pulse skittering. He tasted like heat and the faintest hint of spice from the soup we’d forgotten. But that wasn’t what I was hungry for. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and he growled low in his throat like it awakened something primal in him.
“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured, voice thick with restraint as his lips traced the edge of my jaw.
“Maybe I want to get burned,” I whispered, my breath shivering against his skin.
That did something to him.
He spun us slightly so my back was pressed to the fridge, the cold metal a sharp contrast to the fire trailing his hands. He made quick work of unbuttoning my blouse, but not in a rushed way. He wanted to savor this.
Each button he slipped open was a deliberate act, exposing me inch by inch until the cool air hit my heated skin.
His hands were big-rough, like he’d worked or fought, not pampered like the pretty alphas in suits at my office. They slid under the lace of my bra, callused thumbs brushing over sensitive skin. I arched into him involuntarily, breath catching, and he responded with a low, satisfied sound.
“You’ve been driving me insane,” he said, pressing kisses down my neck. “Walking around in those skirts, all business, pretending you don’t notice how I look at you.”
“I didn’t,” I gasped, but the words broke with a whimper as his mouth found the peak of my breast through the lace. “Not…
1/3
much.”
He chuckled against my skin. “Liar.”
He lifted me again, one arm under my thighs as the other swept everything off the nearby kitchen island with a crash that should’ve startled me, but all I could think about was the way his chest felt pressed to mine, hard and hot and bare.
He laid me down on the counter like I was something precious and untouchable-then touched me everywhere.
My skirt bunched around my waist, his fingers trailing along the edge of my thighs, teasing, circling closer and closer until I whimpered, legs tightening around his hips. He was taking his time, and it was driving me mad.
“Please,” I breathed, hating how desperate I sounded but too far gone to care.
His lips curved against my skin. “Please what?”
“Ian-“I tried to glare at him, but my voice cracked when his fingers dipped just slightly beneath my panties. The friction made me cry out softly.
“I like it when you say my name like that.” His voice was low, hungry. His fingers stroked slowly, just enough to make me tremble, never enough to satisfy.
I was already half gone, mindless and needy, when he finally slipped them aside and touched me properly. My hips jerked, mouth falling open in a soundless moan.
I could feel every slow, circling stroke, every slick glide of his fingers, and it was too much. Not enough.
I reached for his pants, fumbling, desperate to feel all of him, but he caught my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth. He kissed my palm softly, too softly for what he was doing to the rest of me.
“Not yet,” he said, voice fraying. “I want to watch you fall apart first. Let me serve you well, my lady.”
He curled his fingers just right, and I grabbed the edge of the counter so hard that my knuckles turned white.
I wanted to comment on how he had used my name and wanted to ask him to say that again, but I was too breathless all of a sudden.
He wasted no time and kept pumping in and out of me, slow rhythmic strokes as if he had done this a thousand times already.
As if he knew which parts of me could elicit a response and leave me begging for more.
He was my boy toy, but my mind wondered who else had he pleasured like this, which female had the pleasure of getting her fantasies fulfilled by this handsome man.
“Almost there,” I whispered, and he nodded, increasing the strokes as I threw my head back and a ripple of pleasure traveled up from down there to every nerve of my body.
He plucked me off the counter and away from the main kitchen island, and then placed me on the one opposite to it.
The one where I could serve the dishes. But tonight, he was serving me.
How ironic!
I spasmed and gasped, taking in huge breaths as he held me straight, supporting me with his tall frame while I rode his hand
hard.
2/3
I had never known what it was to be utterly wrecked by someone yet feel blissful. All these years, I had focussed solely on my career and climbing the corporate ladder.
It was a shame how fast my body came undone by him.
My back arched off the counter as my climax hit, sharp and blinding. I gasped his name again and again, gripping his shoulders like he was the only thing tethering me to the world.
I was still shaking when he leaned in and kissed me, slow and possessive, as if he was claiming me with every press of his mouth.
I forgot the number of times I took his name or moaned, but I recalled how he looked me in the eye and asked me to relax through his eyes.
“It would be a shame to not taste, my lady, so pardon me if I don’t seek your permission for this”
He said, and I felt utterly embarrassed when he held his fingers in front of me and then put them one by one in his mouth.
I couldn’t even look away as he sucked them one by one, making me stare at him unabashedly.
Chapter 14
Valencia
The thing with wanting something is once you get it, you crave for more. Just a taste of it is barely enough.
In fact, it’s never enough.
That was what was happening to me, I guess.
Because how the hell would I explain whatever was happening to me?
My legs and entire body felt sore, yet blissfully content. But as usual when I got up from sleep at morning, the other side of my bed was cold.
lan had once again slipped away at night when I was fast asleep.
Just how did he always appear soundlessly and leave without making a noise? I was a light sleeper, so even the slightest noise usually woke me up.
Maybe he would leave when I was in a deep sleep.
I recalled the events of last night, the way he had opened up about his job a little. He had still been a little elusive on the topic of work and the nature of his responsibilities, but damn, did he sound a little stressed about everything?
That added even more guilt to my heart, knowing that he had a demanding job, yet he had managed to find time to do
chores for me.
And not just chores, but he cooked for me twice and last night, also gave me my first heavenly orgasm.
For the first time in life, I didn’t feel like going to office. I just wanted to lie in the bed and do nothing.
That was funny. I was the girl who would even find extra work to do on weekends because I wouldn’t want to be alone with myself.
Sometimes, I got homesick when my mind was not filled with work and deadlines.
I recalled how mom used to get me nice dresses and matching play sets, or how my brother would stand by the door and keep a watch over me.
It had been five years of no contact with them.
I wondered if dad felt let down by my actions, by me putting myself above the rest of the pack. They had not even forced me to get married to someone against my wish, they were just hoping someone would click for me and then they would work their way through the political alliances.
My brain did a good job of recalling the last ever playdate I went to. The kid with acne on his face and the attitude of a millionaire.
I recalled how he had said I was some sort of legend and how rejecting me was akin to helping them to find their true mates.
He had not even used any abusive words nor resorted to violence.
But something about the way he casually said that thing, as if it was a fact and I was not a living, breathing person with emotions but some cheat code that he had to used to get what he truly wanted…. that had been the last straw.
1/3
Sometimes. I felt ashamed of never telling my parents of how it gnawed at me, of how the playdates traumatized me or how a new dress from mom would always make my heart beat faster, anxiety slowly building up with every rejection.
I ran away from that life, from those torturous days of finding some true mate who was going to judge me based on how I smiled or how docile I was.
My phone rang at that exact moment, dragging me out of my miserable thoughts.
“Hello, earth to Valencia, are you still on the same planet or have you left for the moon?” Sophia’s stern voice asked me.
Stifling a yawn, I greeted her.
“Good morning to you too, Soph.”
“You are yawning, that means you didn’t get enough sleep last night which in turn also means that you were buried in files all night. Again.”
Sophia said in a dismissive voice, as if she had caught me doing drugs.
“Why is working and being efficient a bad thing?” I said, rolling on the other side of the bed.
“If you start to forget, it’s not your day to parade to the office, but meet your only friend on weekends, then it sure is.”
“Oh,” I managed to say and I could already see her shaking her head and slapping her palm on her forehead.
“You didn’t realize it was Saturday, did you?” She asked, and I admitted.
“Guilty as charged”
“That was the reason I gave you a call so early, because I want you to myself the entire day.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could say anything, she asked,,
“And you have to tell me why is a guy from my class I barely remember being in the same college found me on social media and has been asking questions about you.”
Taht made me jump up on the bed and sit up straight.
Was it my brother who had somehow found me? Or was it a friend of my family?
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said, and she replied, “I will answer everything in detail, but not on the phone. Meet me at the usual cafe for breakfast. I am dying of hunger.”
I recalled the soup Ian had made for me yesterday that we both had conveniently forgotten about and gone ahead to do something I had never done in my life before.
I should have told Sophia right away. She was the one to suggest that place, and I owed it to her for meeting Ian.
But somehow I felt like I should treasure that special memory for a while. I would tell her eventually, I thought.
“Hello, are you even listening to me?” She asked, and I nodded, then realized she can’t see me through the phone so replied, “Yes, of course. See you at 10.”
Pushing the sheets away, I hopped into the shower and got ready to meet her. Unlike me, Sophia was a night owl, so even 10 am was too early for her.
2/3
We had met once when we were looking for a room to rent and somehow stayed in touch and then became friends.
And she was the only one who stuck with me because the rest of the connections I tried to make slowly faded away because I was too busy and ambitious for them all.
While everybody went to party on weekends, I would go to the Bureau. It was a surprise Sophia hadn’t given up on me already.
And as much as I loved my job, I didn’t want to lose the only friend I had in life. So I got into my car after putting on jeans and a light, breezy shirt instead of my usual skirt and blouse outfit of office, and drove towards the cafe.
While I was just two blocks away from the cafe, my phone buzzed again. But it was not a call, but rather a text message.
The intern flashed on my phone. I had still not changed it to lan
And I almost drove into a nearby tree upon seeing his name flash on my screen.
I parked my car to the side of the road and opened the text message so fast, as if it would disappear in the next two seconds.
My intern: Yesterday was the best night of my life.
