Touching Her.
1968 Words
Chapter 3.
Draven stood still.
He didn’t move. Not immediately.
His grip on the doorknob tightened like it was the only thing grounding him, jaws clamping.
His breath slowed, barely there, as his eyes clung to the trail of water that ran down her stomach and disappeared into the towel wrapped loosely around her waist.
Aria froze at the sight of him, standing face-to-face with his eyes running down her body like he could unravel her just by staring. Well, he did.
For the longest, neither of them spoke. Just thick silence and wild eyes that could lead her to freaking paradise.
Aria’s thighs clamped from the intensity of his gaze, which was now trailing down her legs.
A vein in Draven’s temple twitched, and his fist tightened beside him as he drank in the sight of her legs.
God! Her legs were average. Not short. Not long. But they were the sexiest he had ever seen. And oh! Only hell knew just how hard he was struggling to control the insane urge to wrap those legs around his head while he buried his face against whatever heaven she had in-between them.
His eyes dragged back to her chest. Even with the towel to her body, he could tell that she was freaking curvy. And oh! He wanted to yank her closer, pull that towel off her body until she was nothing but bare to his face.
Aria’s skin prickled, breath catching against her throat.
Her eyes moved awkwardly, stopping dangerously low at his forbidden region.
Her eyes widened slightly, throat bubbling at what she saw.
A bulge. A f*****g bulge, hard enough to ruin her in ways her shitty ex-boyfriend would never be able to. Even in her dreams.
Asshole. She cursed beneath her breath. How could he get hard from barging into her? How could his eyes move so dangerously against her body like he was devouring her already?
A rare sensation slipped into her in a flicker, sending a jolt across her p***y. A reminder to her hypocrite mind that she loved it. That she wanted him to do more of this to her.
Then suddenly, very briskly, she moved her arms, wrapping them around her bare chest like she had not enjoyed how his eyes had moved against her body.
“You should have knocked,” she said, shooting him a dagger glare like her cheeks were not flushed and red from how he had devoured her with every look.
“I did.” Draven replied flatly. His tone was blank and emotionless, but his eyes were loud as hell.
Aria bit gently on her lower lip, and a muscle tickled against his jaw.
His c**k twitched against his jeans, desiring the grip of her lips.
His eyes followed the drop of water that slid from her collarbone down to her chest, the very place that her towel struggled to conceal.
God! He was one step away from pulling her into his arms and licking those drops off her skin until she was moaning his name loudly.
“Why are you here?” Aria asked, trying to sound feisty, but her voice quivered underneath.
Draven said nothing. He just blinked back, finally tearing his gaze off her body for the first time since he walked in.
His eyes moved around her room like he had not carried every f*****g supervision when the room was under arrangement.
Aria’s eyes followed his, stealing glances at the bicep that struggled to sit underneath the compression top.
Her p***y watered, the sight stirring something unholy between her thighs.
She blinked back and turned to her dresser.
“Heard you broke up with your boyfriend.”
Aria’s breath hitched, and her fingers stilled against the dryer. She stood still, the word piercing into her heart like a dagger.
Just when she thought she was healing. Now he brought it up.
With a soft exhale, she grabbed her dryer.
“Is that the reason you are here?”
“I wouldn’t be if your emotions weren’t so much of a threat to your brother.”
Aria said nothing. She just continued drying her hair. She had been ignoring her brother and everyone around her. It was her own way to heal.
Draven’s head tilted to get a glimpse of her, but the sight that welcomed him had his throat locking.
Her towel dropped low against her back, revealing a clear view of her spine.
His gaze pierced into her skin—hot, dark, and needy.
How the f**k could one be this freaking perfect?
Sexiest legs that would do a damn good job against his shoulders, then a very f*****g good spine that could drive him crazy when he has her bent against the bed, taking her from behind while dipping her waist backward to match up with his thrust.
His legs moved before he could stop himself, and the next thing, he was standing behind her, just inches away from her.
Before Aria saw him, she felt his presence and the burning heat from him.
Her eyes darted up, and the moment she saw him through the mirror, a cold shiver rippled through her as she turned to confirm if he was really the one behind her.
“Goodness.” She gasped, startled by the sight of him behind her. Her hands lost control of her dryer and she slipped, almost crashing into the table behind her—but he caught her immediately.
His hand slipped below, grabbing her waist firmly like they belonged there. Because they did. Right there.
Their faces hovered an inch away from each other.
Aria’s breath was sharp and uneven, heart thumping loudly against her chest.
Her eyes moved against his face—cold and unmoving. But he was no longer staring at her face. He was glaring somewhere below.
Her towel had shifted, and Draven could not help but look down at her t**s that were barely concealed by the helpless towel.
His mouth watered, hands itching against her waist to cup those small pebbles into his hand and fondle them hard until she was moaning his name.
Draven helped her to her feet and she tried to pull away. “Thank—” her words trailed off as Draven grabbed her wrist, pulling her back and smashing her body into him until her chest was pressed against his chest.
“Drav—” her words cut as he placed a finger on her lip.
“Shhs…” He hushed, shutting her up seductively. He didn't know what came over him. Neither did he want to know.
His hand sneaked to the back of her waist, grabbing her into himself while he pushed her backward, his eyes locked against hers.
Aria’s heart thumped widly in her chest, she didn't know what was happening, but she didn't want it to stop.
His eyes were dark, and lucid with a need he could not quench again.
The tension in the room stretched, loud with need, want, and something far more dangerous as he led her to lean against the dressing table.
Her ass met with the table, hands gripping the edge of it.
Her lungs caved in as his eyes locked against hers.
Her heart pounded against her chest as she felt his fingers trailing gently against the side of her thighs, crawling up against her hips like it was a normal thing.
Aria’s pulse roared against her ear, p***y dripping like she didn’t hate this man.
Her skin prickled from the feel of his fingers, body twitching instinctively from the pleasure of his touch.
Her stomach flipped, sensation crawling up her spine, making her arch spontaneously into him.
She should push him away, she should ask him to leave. She should get angry that he was touching her—but she couldn’t. She didn’t.
Her throat dried, eyes struggling to hold on to his as his other hand moved, cupping her cheeks gently into his palm.
Draven’s eyes dropped to her lips. Soft and perfect enough for his ruin.
His thumb moved, dragging gently against her lower lips while watching her tremble from the graze of his finger.
His c**k strained in his pants, twitching hard for freedom.
His hand grabbed her hips up, pushing them against his thighs.
“You are dripping,” he said, his voice confident like he knew the state of her p***y.
Draven’s lips twitched into a smirk.
“Could your ex-boyfriend ever grab you like this?” he growled into her neck, hand tightening on her waist, forcing her hips to brush his length through his jeans.
Aria stilled, her breath catching from the fire behind his words.
“Could he hold you like you were made to be touched? Like your body was crafted to ruin a man?” he whispered, voice thick with hunger, eyes still locked on hers.
She blinked fast, the heat of his body and his words melting her insides like wax.
“That’s a motherfucking reason you don’t cry over bastards like him,” Draven rasped against her jaw. “Because they don’t know what to do with a body like yours.”
His lips brushed her temple, but his hand was trailing lower now—teasing the edge of her towel.
“Did he ever have you soaked like this just by looking at you?” he said. “No fingers. No tongue. Just a look.”
His voice was dangerous, dark and slow, like every word was meant to crawl inside her and ignite something filthy.
“You think you can stand there pretending you don’t want this?” he breathed into her ear. “When I can smell it. Feel it.”
His fingers glided further up her thighs. “You’re dripping. Like your p***y is begging for me to see what it looks like when I touch you.”
Aria’s lips parted. “I—I am not.” She whispered, struggling to keep her shoulders high. But not like this. Not with the way his hand settled against her cheeks. Not with the way his fingers dragged up her skin. Not with the way his c**k pressed hard against her stomach, leaving her to desire the sight that lay underneath his brief.
Draven’s lips twitched into a smirk.
“Let’s see then.”
Aria stilled at the sound of that. He was crazy—so she thought within herself—but those words barely made it past her lips. Instead, her heart raced with curiosity, p***y pulsing with anticipation as his hand dragged up the inner of her thighs.
Her breath trembled, her body jerking from the weight of his touch.
Draven’s grip on her jaw tightened, fingers moving up. He should stop. He should pull away. But no. His body ached. His c**k stretched, his muscles clenched, curiosity seeping into him.
He wanted to know what her p***y was like. Was she wet? Was she dripping? Had her p***y turned into an ocean for him?
Without further hesitation, he moved his hand further, flickering his fingers against her heat.
Aria’s breath hitched from the feel of his finger against her p***y. Her body stilled, and her back arched.
“f**k!” An unbidden moaned tore last her lips, her body shuddering from the pleasure of his finger.
Draven’s breath locked, his jaws clenched as he dragged his finger against her wetness, feeling the heat as it smeared against his fingers.
His lips twitched into a wicked grin, eyes locking against Aria whose lips were already parted from what exactly she couldn’t express.
Draven leaned into her, his mouth grazing her ear while he rubbed gently against her clit, voice dropping low and lethal.
“How do you explain this mess between your thighs, Little doll?”
- Writer
