She probably thinks it’s an empty promise, but now I know what she tastes like, what her pussy feels like when she comes, and how pretty her cries are when she comes, I won’t ever be able to let her go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHLOE
NOW
What have I done?
For years I’ve kept my distance from men, knowing the second I allow them close, I’ll have to run. So why did I allow Ryker to touch me?
Especially knowing in just a few hours I’ll be long gone, a distant memory in his story.
Every breath is labored, my body desperate for oxygen as I come down from the best orgasm I’ve had in years.
I’ve tried to convince myself that the toys I have stashed in my nightstand are just as good as the real thing, but boy was I wrong.
There’s something about being at the mercy of another person, your pleasure in their hands, that adds to the bliss in a way your own hand can’t.
Just another thing to miss when I leave here.
Once I regain use of my limbs, I scramble across the couch, putting as much distance between us as the seat will allow.
My pants are still bundled around my ankles, my panties ruined, and Ryker just stares at me with amusement on his lips.
I’m glad he thinks this situation is funny because it’s the complete fucking opposite for me.
As if to prove his point, he grasps his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants, outlining the wet patch seeping through the thick fabric.
Did he really come just watching me fall apart?
And if he did, why do I love the idea of that so much?
“I’m going to bed,” I squeak, stumbling off the couch and tugging my sweatpants up and over my hips as quickly as I can manage. Unfortunately, that also means it’s done with exactly zero grace, only adding to Ryker’s smirk.
Asshole.
“Goodnight, Siren.” He drags his bottom lip between his teeth as his gaze rakes over me.
I huff out a sigh and head for the door, desperate to put this encounter behind me.
“Oh, and Chloe?” He waits for me to look over my shoulder. “If you’re planning to sneak out in the middle of the night, I’d rethink that plan if I were you.”
My mouth drops open in surprise, but I don’t manage a response before I round the corner and pull in my first full breath of air since Ryker first touched me.
“Good work, Chloe. You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” I mutter under my breath as I head to my bedroom and close the door behind me, flicking the lock out of habit more than anything. A flimsy lock will do little to protect me from an intruder, but the illusion of safety is enough to allow my eyes to close at night.
I lean against the door, dragging in a few steady breaths until my heart rate finally returns to normal. Or as normal as it can be after allowing your bodyguard to get you off in the middle ofa common area just a few hours before you’re planning to run away.
My eyes move over the bedroom I’ve had since I moved in here ten years ago, the small collection of personal items I’ve collected over the years scattered across the space.
Art that Camilla drew me when she was young, a photo of the two of us at her graduation, and the overly expensive necklace John bought me for Christmas a few years ago that I’ve never been brave enough to wear out of the house.
Not that I really go anywhere. Twenty thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds doesn't exactly scream a trip to the supermarket with a ball cap and oversized glasses.
A zap of pain radiates through my chest as I take in the soft bedding I’ve become accustomed to and the familiarity of the space, the refuge that it’s offered me all these years.
It’s going to hurt like hell to say goodbye, but now that they know where I am, I have no choice but to find a new home, a new refuge.
