Lake

As best as I could tell, it had been a day since I’d seen him last.

That was an estimate.

I didn’t have a clock, didn’t really have any idea what time he’d left, what time it was now. But the sun had risen and set at least once.

A reasonable person, a sane one, would have been happy he was gone.

I was neither.

I was worried for myself, but what was more, I missed him.

I could barely wrap my head around the fact that I was pining after him like a lovesick teenager, but the truth was what it was.

And though intellectually I knew I was in trouble, big trouble, knew that this situation was dangerous for me and that it was his fault I was in it, I still missed him.

Which told me pretty much everything I needed to know about myself, not that it came as a surprise.

I’d known that I was fucked up.

This was only proving it.

I stood when the doorknob started to turn, expecting Gaspar to drop off another tray of food.

But when Aras walked through the door, it took everything I had not to scream with joy.

When I looked at him, I felt like I could finally breathe, like the weight that had been heavy on my chest had finally been lifted.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“No. I’m fine,” I said.

He stared at me, then abruptly left.

I frowned toward the doorway, wondering what had happened, then saw when he came back in carrying a can of soda and a sandwich.

“Thank you,” I said as I took the items from his hands, wondering how he knew I hadn’t eaten since he left.

I took a sip of the soda, and nibbled on the sandwich, but my attention was focused on him.

He seemed…off.

He was intense, as intense as anyone I had ever met. But there was something else.

A man like Aras could never be frazzled, but there was something different about him, something primal, almost animalistic.

“I don’t know how long you were gone,” I said.

I probably shouldn’t have said anything, should have just stayed quiet, drunk my soda, eaten my sandwich, and ignored whatever was going on with him.

But I didn’t.

“It was about thirty-six hours,” he said.

“Oh,” I responded.

He had leaned against the door, was looking at me.

But for the first time, he didn’t seem entirely focused on me.

He was preoccupied, distracted.

“You saw Vlad, didn’t you?” I asked.

I didn’t know why I thought that, didn’t know why I had to express that suspicion to him, but once I spoke the words out loud, I knew they were true.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

He was looking at me, his posture tense, his expression challenging.

I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything more intimidating. But I pushed back the fear—and common sense—and continued on.

“I can’t say for sure. It’s just, you seemed different,” I said.

He kept his eyes on me, his gaze daring.

I discarded the soda and remnants of the sandwich and then stood.

I had felt so vulnerable sitting there, his eyes boring into me. Standing didn’t do much to alleviate that, but it was something.

“What do you know about me?” he asked.

The warning and that question couldn’t have been clearer. It was practically flashing, his unspoken order that I shut up unmissable.

I ignored it.

“I know that you’re a person who is in control of his emotions. At least usually. But not now,” I said.

“You can see all that, huh?” he asked.

His arms hung loosely at his sides, but his intensity hadn’t lessened a bit.

“Yes.”

He didn’t respond, but I could see him thinking, considering, saw that he came to a decision.

Without speaking he stalked toward me, each step purposeful.

I didn’t know whether to be afraid or turned on, decided that I was both.

I let out a hard breath when my back crashed into the wall. I’d been so intent on Aras, I hadn’t even realized I’d moved.

But I had, and when I looked up and met his eyes, that vulnerability I’d felt moments ago became even more intense.

I was trapped between the wall and his solid body, but even worse, I was trapped in the maelstrom that was whirling in his eyes. Emotions, unreadable but intense, swirled in them, and I had the almost unshakeable urge to look away.

I didn’t, deciding yet again that I wouldn’t back down from him, no matter how smart it might be.

Aras waited, surprise momentarily flickering in his gaze. But then he lifted one corner of his mouth in an expression I wouldn’t dare call a smile.

“I—”

His thick finger against my lip cut off my words. He held it there, the slightly calloused pad setting off a shiver when he rubbed it against my mouth.

I opened on instinct, sucked the tip into my mouth. I had no idea where the urge had come from, but at Aras’s huffed-out breath, I was glad I had followed it.

He pushed his finger deeper into my mouth, and I sucked it deeper still, the feel of his finger against my tongue making my nipples tighten and my pussy clench.

He hardly touched me, but I felt like I could barely breathe, the weight on my chest different now than the one that had been there when I was missing him.

No, this was altogether different, the weight of desire so primal that I needed him like I needed air.

He pushed another finger into my mouth, and I took it eagerly, sucking both deep, as a moan escaped my mouth.

I didn’t recognize the sound that came out of my throat when he pulled his fingers out, but the disappointment died when he yanked my nightgown up and slammed his fingers into my pussy.

“You were already wet for me,” he whispered, his voice thick, raspy.

Always, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t let the words come out, couldn’t do anything except take the pleasure he was giving.

He fucked me hard with his fingers, slamming them in and out so fast I could hardly catch a breath. And when he used his thumb to scrape my clit, I came so hard my knees buckled.

Aras held me up.

He locked an arm around my waist and held me through the climax, his magic fingers still testing and teasing me.

When something like sense came back, I met his eyes, saw an almost feral desire that had me creaming again.

He took his arm away long enough to open his fly and release his cock, and as he had with his fingers, he entered me in one thrust.

I inhaled sharply, the length and thickness of his cock again taking me by surprise. I should have been used to both by now, but like every time he entered me, there was a moment of pain, a delicious little sting that made his claiming me that much more intense.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his face pressed against my neck.

I said nothing but tightened my muscles around his shaft and was rewarded with another muttered curse and a thrust so hard it sent me to my tiptoes.

My arms wrapped tight around his neck, I clamped my pussy down as hard as I could, trying to keep him deep inside me.

He held me even tighter, so tight I was sure his hand would leave a bruise on my hip.

I didn’t care.

In this moment, I didn’t care about anything but the man who was fucking me into bliss.

I dug my nails into his back, his shirt creating a barrier when all I wanted was his bare skin. I felt crazed, mindless, a myriad of other emotions that were all lost to the sensation of his body claiming mine.

“Please,” I pleaded, not sure what I was asking for, yet knowing only he could give it to me.

“I like that. When you beg,” he growled in my ear, his voice and his throbbing cock confirming his pleasure.

I did too.

“Please,” I whispered again, the flush of embarrassment at the word scattering with Aras’s next hard thrust.

“Again,” he said, thrusting so hard that my head hit the wall.

“Please,” I whispered as a climax ripped through my body.

I said the word again and again, whispered it, screamed it until I was hoarse, crashing into climax each time.

I didn’t know how many times I came, but it was only when I was silent, my body limp against his, that Aras froze, his hips flush against mine, his cock impaling me.

I lifted lids that had drifted closed, and once my eyes met his, Aras breathed out a sigh and came hard, his cock jerking inside me as he filled me with his cum.

He held me until he was empty, and then, finally, put an inch of space between us.

My pussy clenched in protest when he pulled out of me, the trail of cum sliding down one of my thighs, making me feel both embarrassed and sexy.

I ignored both feelings and instead looked at him.

Kept looking until he finally looked back.

I should have let it go, should have just keep my mouth closed, but I couldn’t.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said.