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I want him, and I’ve learned that I can always get what I want.
Even if it hurts me in the end.26Arabella“You came,” Elian says as if he wasn’t expecting me. I’m not sure what I walked into, but tension hangs heavily in the air. I’m wearing the underwear he purchased for me, and the heightened anticipation that shimmies through me as I move makes me squirm.
I decided on a sleek black dress, which hangs to my feet and covers the beautiful lingerie set Elian wanted me to wear. The exquisite lace hugs my body. Panties that should be made illegal cup my pussy and cut along the cheeks of my ass. The bra is perfectly fitted against my breasts, and along the nipples are smooth pearls sewn delicately into the fabric that rub against my hardened buds with every move I make.
I smile. “You invited me,” I remind him. My nerves have gotten the better of me, and as I tangle my fingers in front of me, I notice how those blue orbs spark as they take me in from head to toe. I haven’t really looked at the living room, but under the scrutiny of Elian Donati, I cast my gaze over the room.
The furniture is all black suede, and a large fireplace sits against one wall opposite the couches. Silver illuminates the room as moonlight shimmers through the window, lighting the gray carpet, which is thick and looks so soft.
He doesn’t say anything about my dress. Instead, he asks, “Would you like a drink?”
“I don’t like the hard stuff. Anything light?” I reply with a grin on my face. I don’t want to remind him that I’m barely nineteen, and I most definitely don’t want him thinking about it when he takes this dress off. Because all that’s racing through my mind is what his reaction will be when he sees the gift he bought for me.
“I have white wine, or you can have a vodka with juice?” he offers, a smirk forming on his lips, and I squirm at how he makes me feel. How his movements affect the butterflies in my stomach.
I can’t help but smile. “Aren’t you meant to be advising me not to drink?” I arch a brow as he turns to face me fully.
“Can I reform a little deviant like you?” Elian challenges with a quirk of his dark eyebrow. He regards me with amusement, and I take him in slowly, noting just how handsome he is.
Tipping my head to the side, I counter, “Do you want to?” There’s something powerful about having a man look at me like he’s doing right now. As if he wants to devour me, but he’s holding onto a shred of restraint that makes my body tremble.
I’m almost sure seeing him lose control will be a site. Strong, brutal, and nearly violent. The idea makes my thighs clench. I’m challenging him, but it’s impossible to stop myself. There’s a seductiveness about Elian I like seeing when he looks at me.
“Make no mistake. You being here, my little deviant, doesn’t mean you’re in control. I’m the one who will hold your pleasure in my hands, and I’ll enjoy watching you squirm under my touch.” His gaze trails from my eyes, over my lips, down my chest, all the way to my feet before snapping back to my face.
He takes a few seemingly controlled steps toward me, meticulously calculated, so by the time he reaches me, I’m breathless, waiting for the monster to attack. Elian reaches up, his hand tangling in my hair, and with a gentle tug, a gasp falls from my lips when he leans in. His face is inches from mine, his warm breath fanning over my mouth, and for a moment, all I want is for him to kiss me. If I move, my lips will most certainly be against his, but just like the night in the car, he doesn’t come closer.
“Now, would you like a drink?” he whispers, the words feathering themselves over me, causing goosebumps to rise on every inch of my skin.
“Yes, please.” My murmur is nothing more than a tormented plea. The smirk that graces Elian’s lips makes my stomach flip-flop wildly. He releases me, steps back, and leaves me in the living room without another word.
I turn to the room, making my way to the fireplace where I find three framed photos. One picture of a beach has Elian standing on the cream-colored sand grinning at whoever took the photo. He’s in a pair of shorts and a tank top, so I can’t see his body, but from the broadness of his shoulders and the heavyset muscles, I’m almost certain his torso will be chiseled to perfection.
The other is one of him and Ahren grinning at whoever is taking the photo, but the last one is of an older man. I can only guess it is Elian’s dad because there’s a slight resemblance with the dark hair and similar color eyes. His mouth, though, it’s pursed in a severe line, as if he’s angry at the world. Much like Elian is at times.
