But it was just like they said: the innocent ones could be the most dangerous.
I reached her room and laid her in bed. I couldn’t begin to imagine the hangover she’d get in the morning from being this way.
I brushed some messy hair strands from her face, my fingers grazing her skin. She seemed to relax and mumble something under her breath.
She was still unconscious. I wonder what must be going through her head.
Her hand gripped the collar of my shirt when I didn’t expect. Her head tilted slightly, and this time, when she murmured, i could make out the words. “Please, stay.”
My brows scrunched up in surprise. Could this have something to do with Penelope? Who was that woman, and what hold does she have over Lyric?
“You always leave,” she slurred the words. “You always leave, Jaris.” She tugged at the fabric, bringing me closer to her face. My chest was just barely an inch from her face. What in the moon’s name was she doing?
More to my surprise, she buried her nose in my shirt, moaning softly.
Lyric Harper. She was talking about me. She called my name.
This did nothing to ease my confusion. What did she mean by that statement?
I pulled back so her face was free of my chest as I didn’t want her to suffocate herself or something. However, she only moaned from the loss.
She squirmed on the bed, tilting her head up. She murmured more incoherent words under her breath. It was tiring.
I tried to pull away but her hand found my shirt again, pulling me back to her.
“Damn it, I cursed.
And I knew she wasn’t the problem. She was drunk and defenseless. I could easily escape her grip if I wanted. Yet, here I was, allowing myself to be dragged by her.
‘This isn’t you, Jaris’, my subconscious told me, trying to warn me that I was doing something stupid.
I should push myself away from her. Leave this room and go away.
Instead, I wanted to touch her face. Wanted to bury my fingers in my hair and inhale that fucking apple shampoo fragrance. I wanted to claim her lips and feel her body against mine.
This body.
This very one that had been grating on my nerves.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, my heartbeat accelerated. This was not right. Nothing ever fazed me.
Yet, the prospect of being alone in a semi dark room with Lyric Harper was enough to take me out of ease.
Time moved sluggishly. Her lips were parted, begging for an invite.
‘She’s drunk, Jaris, the evil subconscious said. ‘She won’t remember any of these by morning.’
It was right. And even if it wasn’t, even if there was a chance that she could wake up and remember what I did to her, I didn’ t care anymore.
‘It’s just a taste.
I crashed my lips on hers.
JARIS
She gasped, a light exhale escaping her.
The strong smell and taste of alcohol coated my tongue-Ch?teau Margaux, specifically. But other than that, she tasted mighty fine.
‘It’s just a taste.’
My hand gripped the back of her head, pulling her up to meet my kiss.
For someone who was drunk, she took it quite well. And fuck, it was beyond good.
It felt like a brainquake, shaking up my thoughts in the most exhilarating way
‘It’s just a taste.’
My hand flexed around her throat. If she wasn’t so drunk, I’d have choked her. But that wouldn’t be too good now, would it?
I moved the hand downward until I reached the hem of her dress.
‘It’s just a taste.’
Yet, I couldn’t stop my fingers when they moved beneath her dress, caressing bare skin.
I pulled away from her lips to mutter a ‘fuck.’ Because that was exactly how I felt right now.
All I wanted was a fucking taste of her lips, yet I couldn’t get enough. Because Lyric’s lips were fucking addictive.
She tasted like the first sip of warm cocoa on a winter’s night, rich and comforting. It was a mental marvel.
She moaned deeply, throwing her arms around my neck.
“Jaris…” Her voice was like a soft caress of sugar spun cotton, wrapping around me in warmth. Damn it. This woman was going to sound good in bed.
To my surprise, she rocked her hips to meet mine. She was desperate for this. Desperate for me.
I let my fingers wander further beneath her dress. I reached her thigh-the thick soft flesh-and there was nothing I didn’t do to resist giving it a tight squeeze.
In the end, I failed.
She released a breathy moan, her hand tightening around my shoulders. Had she been as horny for me like I was this whole time? This was a fucking discovery.
I know I should stop this. Not because it was wrong-hell, I’d never entirely care for right and went in my life-but because ! shouldn’t want her this way. Not after what she’d done to me.
Yet, I let my fingers keep wondering, all the way to her underwear, until it was beneath it, too.
She exhaled slowly, throwing her head back. She may be drunk, but she was clearly enjoying this. And something about that fact just fueled my needs.
Scorching shivers raced across my flesh, sending heat radiating from head to toe when my fingers found her core. I froze for a moment, letting it sink in.
I was touching Lyric Harper. Intimately.
Lyric might not be the only one that’d wake up to a change tomorrow. By morning, I’ll ask myself what the fuck I just did.
But for now, however, I was lost.
I let out a low growl as I rubbed against her clit while nuzzling my lips against her cheek. She was soaking wet!
I was painfully hard. All I wanted was to pull out of my pants and claim Lyric right now, on this bed.
Before I could think better of it, I thrust a finger into her. She gasped, a small startled thing
I bet this wouldn’t be her reaction if she was fully conscious right now.
She whimpered, her chest rising and falling in a slow pace.
Fuck, how was she so tight? She squeezed around my finger, her wetness coating me.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.