Page 64 of Addiction

“I need you, Armaan, now, please,” she breathed.

Finally, he released her to stand up.

She leaned on her elbows, watching him as he undressed himself. Her skin tightened and her mouth watered a little more with every article of clothing that he tossed aside. And then he stood in front of her, in all his naked glory. Her eyes ran over him, taking in his muscled shoulders, his broad chest, those deliciously sharp abs, and then that part of him that stood hard and erect for her. A new sense of possessiveness washed over her. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid her eyes on, and he was all hers. Only hers.

Armaan wore a condom and crawled on top of her. He crushed her lips under his and sparks exploded in her blood. He pressed his hard erection to her core, and she liquefied. God, this need, this craving within her was raging out of control. Armaan was devouring her, his lips moving sinuously across hers, like he was consuming her. And she wanted to be consumed by him.

Positioning himself at her core, he looked into her eyes. She gave him a small nod, and he thrust inside her, all the way to the hilt. She yelped, her eyes shutting as a sharp, stinging pain overwhelmed her. Armaan stilled.

He wiped the corner of her eye. “It’s fine. You will be fine, I promise.”

His gentle words soothed her.

“I need a moment,” she whispered.

His throat bobbed. “Take all the time you need,moya milaya.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips again, snaking his tongue inside her mouth and stroking it against hers. A second later, a rush of heat melted her core. She shifted, and he slid deeper into her.

Armaan groaned, touching his head to hers.

“You can move…” she said, understanding how hard he was controlling himself for her. “I’m fine.”

She kissed him then, wrapping her arms around him. And then he began to move inside her, slowly at first, his eyes never leaving hers. Only when he saw that she wasn’t in pain and that she was writhing under him, did he begin to thrust harder and move faster.

Need ravaged her. Her whole body began to shake and quiver. A wave of sensation started from the tips of her toes and began to spread down every inch of her. She was moving with him now, needing the friction of his body with hers. Armaan pressed a thumb to her sweet spot, and that pleasurable wave of sensation became a tsunami. It took her over. A rainbow of colors exploded behind her eyes as her body shook and shook under his.

Armaan’s strokes became wilder, like he’d completely lost control. His thrusts became harder, and a second later, he roared her name as he stilled inside her.

Moments later, he shifted to the side and stared at her, his breathing as ragged as hers. What had happened between them had been profound. It had been too powerful, it had been earth shattering, and it had been rather overwhelming to put into words. Her eyes wouldn’t stop drinking him in, her heart rate wouldn’t slow down, and her body demanded that she throw herself back in his arms, breathe him in, and simply hold him… to never let go.

He caressed her cheek. “I feel the same, baby.”

Her breath hitched. How did he read her so correctly all the time? She licked her dry lips. Armaan pressed a soft kiss toher forehead. Her heart melted at how gentle he was with her always.

She shut her eyes. Her emotions were too high, and she was too confused by everything that she was feeling for him in this moment. This man wasn’t supposed to be the one for her. He wasn’t supposed to make her feel so much. But he did; he had since the first day she’d met him. She realized with startling clarity that the only reason she had rejected him in the past, that she had fought with herself to keep him at bay, was because she was scared of what he might make her feel. And sure enough, she felt so much.

When she opened her eyes, Armaan was fast asleep. She ran her hand through his mussed hair. Her stomach pitched. She’d slept with Armaan Oshnov. He’d wanted her here like this with him since the first time he’d met her. And she’d finally done it—given him that one night—rather an afternoon—in his bed. She’d fulfilled her end of the deal with him.

When they had started this, he’d told her he wanted to date her, but he hadn’t put a timeline on it. Which meant she could leave right now. All she had to do was get up, dress up and leave.

Already, she felt so much for him. Perhaps, ending this now, before it became something she couldn’t escape, was the smartest thing to do. She climbed out of bed, her steps faltering. Why did she feel as if she’d be making a mistake in leaving him? That if she did this, she’d end up losing something vital. An ache bloomed in her chest. She pressed a hand to it. Leaving him ought to be easy. She’d told him that she’d never fall for him. She’d told herself she’d never fall in love with anyone ever, then why was it so Goddamn hard to leave him?

She turned and stared at him for a long moment before walking away.

17

Armaan woke up to an empty bed. He checked the time on his watch. It had been more than two hours since he’d brought Navya on the yacht, since he’d made love to her, since he’d had the most fulfilling experience of his life. He inhaled, breathing in her soft scent—it was on him, on his sheets, and in the air around him. Oh, how he loved it. But where was she? He needed her. He wanted to check on her, to see if she was fine, if she was as shaken up as he was after their encounter. To see in her eyes that it had been more for her too.

Hearing no sounds from anywhere, he climbed out of the bed and wore a pair of shorts. He opened the door of the ensuite. It was empty. He scanned the room. Even her clothes weren’t to be seen. He stepped out of his room. Where was she? Even the den was empty. He climbed the deck, and that was empty too. A chilly sensation washed over him followed by utter despair.

A muffled noise from the front of the deck took his feet forward. His heart released a happy sigh when he saw Navya sprawled on a lounger, dressed in his grey shirt, staring at the rolling waves, an open tub of chocolate ice cream on her lap.

Sensing him, she turned. Her gaze ran over him, down his bare torso to the cotton shorts he’d worn in a hurry and then reversed back up until she met his eyes again.

She gave him a soft smile. “Hey, you’re up.”

“Yes.”

---