CHAPTER503
He’s right, I’m emotional and tired and feel crazily strung out after last night. I love that he can always read me, but at the same time, it only makes me worse knowing he can sense that somewhere inside of me I still doubt him, still can’t fully let myself go yet.
He leads me into his bedroom which is illuminated in a soft glow from lights coming from the open bathroom door. I make a little sobbing noise as I take in his bathroom, sparkling with candles and a full hot bubble bath, all ready for me to climb into. He has the jacuzzi function turned on in the tub to keep it hot and bubbling, and little flower petals are floating around on top giving a sweet aroma to the room. The bathroom smells like my favorite bath bomb and the boxes on the counter with the branded names tell me that’s what it is. He’s been a very busy boy for someone who only had an hour and half of my absence and all I can do is gawp like a dumbfounded freak, wondering when and how he planned all this.
“Arry.” I say breathily, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, so in awe of all this and completely blown away. I notice the glass sat by the side, already for whatever I want to pour into it and the book I have been reading sat on a shelf over the tub. He anticipated my needs and set it all up and I literally can’t stop the wave of heartfelt tears that hit me again.
“You’re my Princess. It’s about time I started showing you that.” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips so tenderly, gazing at me with unconcealed love and smiling softly before planting another kiss on my mouth and lingering for a second to savor it. Letting me go and making a move as though to leave.
“Where are you going?” I stop him with a hand on his arm and he smiles at me again.
“I didn’t set this up to pressure you into anything, I’m leaving you to relax for as long as you need.” He kisses me on the forehead and goes to move again, but I don’t let him. The intimacy of this scene, the romantic way he’s being, just fuels my need to have more of him. If his touch can eradicate heartache, then what would full possession of me do? If I let him take me in every way possible. His touch holds the key to saving me from myself in so many ways.
“Who’s going to give me a shoulder massage and wash the bits I can’t reach?” I flutter lashes at him shyly. Not really wanting him to go elsewhere and leave me with my thoughts, he is the one who makes the doubts go silent. I don’t need time to myself, I need more time with him around me, holding me tight and making all of this okay again.
“I guess I can hang around and do that.” He grins at me. Moving back to stand in front of me and slides a hand on my hip with a look of mischievous happiness. Every part of me is aching for him now, heart a little less fragile and a part of me that knows I need more from him than what I have been getting, is in the forefront of my mind.
“Probably make more sense, you know, if you maybe took this off and got in too?” I shrug quietly, tugging at his T-shirt while watching the way his eyes home in on my mouth. The air around us starting to charge even if this was innocent a moment ago, but I know what I’m asking for. My head may be messy and emotionally stupid, but my body is already aching for something he started and never finished, even though it ended badly.
I still have the memory of how the good bits felt and I want to explore more of that. I want to know if his joining to me in more ways than touch can maybe end the constant ache of something missing inside of me. Cure me of these insecurities which keep ripping us apart.
Arrick doesn’t say anything, just smiles at me and then pulls his top over his head in one easy movement, that flawless physique on show, rippling lines of toned muscle and dark art and my stomach flips over with the sight of it. His body never fails to get my heart racing, tracing the fine line of fair hair up his abs until it blends to smooth skin and then meets the scattering across his chest. He’s so much sexier than he was as a teen; losing that air of boyishness and growing into maturity really did increase his level of hotness. He was always cute, nicely toned, and sexy, yet he came into his own after twenty-one.
“Better?” He smirks cheekily, watching the progression of my fingertips and tensing his stomach with every tickle and caress. I watch it mesmerized, longing to see the rest of him even more so now.
“Umm … you know these really should stay dry, best if they come off too.” I tug at his sweatpants and smile when he leans down and slides them off without argument, so he is only in a pair of very sexy fitted boxers and nothing else. It’s not hard to see why women go gooey for him when there is not much hidden. He should never be shy of the package he is carrying anyway. It works like a switch, hitting me right in my pelvis and the instant sizzle of horniness hit me hard. Pressing my knees together as my throat suddenly gets dry. Arrick’s pupils are already large with the lack of light, but now his eyes look so dark and consumed with unveiled lust, it changes his whole face. Body giving off new vibes as though he can already sense what I am going to ask him for.
“Seems a little unfair that I get to keep my clothes dry while this dress definitely looks dry clean only.” He leans in breathily, rubs his nose against mine to deliver a kiss, sexily delicate and heating me up easily. I turn around so he’s behind me, moving my hair aside so I can peek back at him coyly and guide his hands to my back in a bid to urge him to take it off.
I let his hands go as he moves to unzip it, slowly, stopping to kiss me on the back of the neck as he goes. His warm hand slides the zipper down and then slowly and gently pushes the dress off my shoulders, caressing my exposed flesh as he goes so that my eyes flutter shut at the contact. It pools around my ankles on the floor and I step out and kick it aside without looking. Lost in the feel of his touch on me, tracing patterns across my shoulders and down my spine sensually. There is no doubt that he’s turned on, yet I know he won’t do anything about it. In that, I can always trust him.
“I’m awful at taking my underwear off.” I whisper huskily, looking over my shoulder at him and seeing the same lustful glaze to his eyes that I’m sure mine have too. For something that started out sweet and romantic, the air is sizzling with sexual tension and he doesn’t hesitate to unclip my bra and slowly slide it off from behind, kissing my shoulder and then easing my panties off. My body is churning with need, every ounce of me vibrating with impatience and desire.
He smooths them down my legs and then removes them one foot at a time, throwing them on top of our clothes on the floor casually. His eyes scanning my body and devouring me shamelessly. His hand skims the curve of my ass, yet he moves both to my waist, trying to tame his urges and stay in a safe zone.
He lets me go and bends behind me and realize he is taking the last of his clothes off too, so that we are completely naked with each other for the first time, sober. The memories of Leila’s party are hazy, and we had more darkness than this, so were unable to appreciate each other in our natural splendor. I don’t feel nervous at all. I feel desirable and safe, skin tingling with his soft touches as he comes back to stand up behind me. Trembling with how different it feels to have him against me, skin on skin and completely aware of every single touch. Heightened senses and crazily alert.
He runs his fingertips down my neck, erupting in a million sizzling goosebumps as he trails them down my spine and across one of my butt cheeks slowly. I can hear the change in his breathing, the charge between us in the air.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever known. I can’t believe that you’re mine, that I get to touch you like this, get to kiss you every day. I’m so in love with you, Sophs, every single tiny inch of you.” His voice is in my ear, low and sexy, tickling my neck and I close my eyes to the sensation of his skin on my skin again. Heart erupting at his words and I just want to turn and throw myself into his arms and kiss him to death. I want so badly to tell him how much I love him too. I pray that the mental block stopping me from that one tiny detail can be cured with one final step in bringing us together properly.
Every part of me longing with desire to feel the way he’s making my neck feel. I want to feel him inside me, to have that mouth back on places he brought to ecstasy before. I want it more than oxygen right now and every yearning ache has me tensing in anticipation, a need so strong I may scream if he denies me.
“Make love to me.” I whisper it so surely, yet so breathily that I don’t think he hears me at first. His hand pauses on my back as he registers what I have asked of him. I was so sure he knew this is where I wanted this to go, until this very second.
“I don’t want to put you back there.” His words come out painfully, so much emotion and I can hear how torn he is. Despite the way he’s touching me, the way his body is sending every signal that he wants this as much as I do, he is still trying to look after me.
I love you so much."
