Make It Better
ARIANA'S POV
Silence stretched between us, thick and potent. It wrapped around the room like a silk ribbon, almost tender but with a tension that stole the breath from my lungs.
Hardin held me like he was afraid to let go—as if the second he did, I might vanish, and this fragile, beautiful thing between us would collapse all over again.
I could feel the rapid thud of his heart against my cheek. Every beat was a confession. A prayer. A promise.
I tilted my head to look at him—and the moment our eyes met, something shifted.
His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something. But he hesitated. Struggled. Then, in a voice low and cracked, he finally spoke.
"God…" he exhaled. "When you looked at me like I was a stranger… Ariana, it hurt so fucking much."
My breath caught.
His eyes darkened—not with anger, but with the kind of sorrow that only came from love.
"You don’t know what that did to me," he went on, his voice just above a whisper. "The thought of you leaving me… of never feeling you like this again—it tore me apart. And when I saw you smiling at that guy in the hospital—"
"Hardin," I murmured, my fingers brushing over his jaw. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just mad. So mad I could barely think straight. I was drowning in it."
His mouth curved into a small, heartbreaking pout. "Well, I’m hurt. And you should do something about it."
I blinked, then chuckled through the ache in my chest. "Oh really? What should I do, baby?"
His lips lifted, but he still looked wounded. "Make it better."
I leaned in and kissed him—soft and slow and full of everything I couldn’t say. Every apology. Every promise. Every broken piece I wanted to stitch back together with my lips.
But he didn’t let me pull away.
His hand curved around the back of my neck and pulled me deeper into the kiss. It was hot and hungry, the kind of kiss that tasted like desperation and love and something wild.
He held me like a man starved, like I was the air he’d been denied for far too long. Our tongues tangled. Our bodies pressed together, heat rising like a fever that couldn’t be cured.
When we finally pulled apart, our breathing was ragged. My forehead rested against his.
"We should celebrate," I whispered, my lips brushing his. "The launch. Us. Everything."
He nodded, slightly dazed. "Anywhere you want to go, I’ll take you there. Just say the word."
I grinned, fingers reaching for the silk tie around his neck. I curled it around my hand and tugged him toward me.
"I want to stay right here," I whispered against his ear. "With you."
His hands gripped my hips tightly. "Then stay. Do whatever you want with me."
I smirked and gave him a little push.
He landed on his back on the couch with a quiet grunt, his eyes burning into me. I straddled him slowly, letting my thighs settle on either side of his hips, my skirt bunching up around me.
"Fuck, Ariana," he groaned, his hands immediately going to my waist. "You’re gonna kill me."
"That’s the plan," I whispered sweetly.
My fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. One by one, I undid them, my eyes never leaving his. His chest rose and fell beneath me, every breath shallow, every muscle tight.
Once his shirt was open, I leaned down, pressing my lips to his chest. I kissed my way down, letting my tongue swirl over his nipple.
His breath caught, and a low moan escaped his throat.
"Fuck."
I kissed him again, higher this time, then back to the center of his chest. The taste of him was addictive—like home and heat and sin wrapped into one.
"You feel so good," I murmured against his skin.
He bucked slightly beneath me, his body reacting instinctively.
I kissed my way back up, capturing his lips in another searing kiss while I rolled my hips slowly against him.
He groaned into my mouth. "Ariana… baby… shit. You’re driving me crazy."
"Good," I teased, nipping at his bottom lip. "You deserve it."
I leaned back just enough to yank my blouse over my head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as they zeroed in on the lace bra barely covering my breasts.
"Jesus," he breathed.
I reached behind and unclasped it, letting the straps fall.
His eyes devoured me.
I leaned forward, brushing my nipples against his bare chest as I kissed him again.
"You’re killing me, baby," he whispered, voice thick with need.
I smiled against his lips, then slowly moved my hands to his belt.
"I’m so wet for you," I breathed against his ear. "Do you want to see just how wet?"
His body tensed beneath mine, and I could feel the restraint breaking inside him.
His hands moved to my thighs, gripping tight as he stared up at me like I was the only thing that had ever mattered. The only thing that ever would.
The heat between us was electric. Wild. Dangerous. And I wanted nothing more than to burn in it.
But I wasn’t done teasing him yet.
Not even close.
I popped the button of his pants, my fingers brushing against the thick outline of him straining beneath.
He groaned, hips arching upward, seeking more.
I leaned down, my lips grazing the shell of his ear.
"Tell me how much you want me," I whispered.
He growled.
"So fucking bad. I need you, Ariana. Need you like I need my next goddamn breath."
I smiled.
And then I kissed him again, slower this time. Like I had all the time in the world to worship every inch of him.
And maybe I did.
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