He couldn’t argue with Chase over that.
This shit needs to end.
One fucking hour. That’s how long it takes before he hears Stella rolling down the front driveway. He’d made sure to be waiting in the living room of the mansion just so he can hear their arrival.
Stella walks in with an extremely pale Ariana next to her. James and Tommy are right behind them and he waves the two men away.
“Adam,” Ariana whispers and beelines to him but stops short right in front of him.
He takes the steps to close the distance between them. It isn’t until he hears the sound of Stella leaving the room before he gathers her into his arms. He’d come too close to losing her not to be able to control not touching her.
She’s shaking and trembling from head to toe. He can’t be sure if it’s from fear or if this has somehow triggered her as Marcus warned him. Now, Marcus is dead and he can’t even ask for advice.
“You’re okay,” he whispers. It’s the first thing he can say and probably isn’t a comfort.
“They know I’m here,” she tells him.
“Are you sure?” he asks because he needs to be sure. The best way to keep her safe is knowledge.
She nods into his shoulder.
“I remember one of the men,” she answers. “He works for Isabella.”
“I’ll take care of it. We’ll take care of it,” he says, trying to reassure her. “Right now, they might still think McCullen was helping you, not us. It’ll be okay.” She has a whole family behind her now. She’s not alone.
Another promise. He didn’t make promises but here he is…doing just that. Without a second thought, he’s doing just that. And for winging things, it feels right.
“Marcus?” she asks.
“Shh…” he tells her because more bad news might not be the right thing to give her right now.
“I-I’m sorry. It’s all my fault,” she replies, her voice sounding far away.
Devastating news to her or not, it makes him smile like a psychopath. Not because someone is dead but because she understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to save her the guilt. He didn’t have to tell her and she knew what he’s thinking. Yet…she faces it.
“No. It’s not your fault. Marcus was a good man and he made sure to keep you safe. He did his job,” he says, cold-hearted as it may seem.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He’s never known how addicting it can be to nestle in the crook of a woman’s neck until Ariana. The act itself is a deep level of intimacy all on its own. It requires a certain level of trust to expose one’s pulsating jugular to another so unguarded. And the reward for that trust is a different kind of safety and rest. Rest your worries here, it speaks.
It’s fucking enchanting.
He’s feeding an endless craving. A craving that he didn’t know he had…until her. Her soft moans, her passionate responses, and her need for him only fuel the cravings.
“More,” she gasps when his tongue glides across her neck, and his hand trails down the flat of her stomach. She’s put on some weight since the first time his eyes settled on her body and his love of the peaks and valleys of her body only grows with each touch.
He can’t help but smirk at the hiss that escapes her when he dips two fingers into her slick pussy and curls. She’s already soaked and he beams at knowing that he brings this out of her.
“Beg, kitten,” he whispers into her ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. “From now on, you’ll only beg me. No one else touches you now. Just me.”
Many may have made Ariana submit. It kills him to think about the men in her past that have done so but they’ve never owned her. He can feel the truth of that in his heartless chest. No one has ever gotten every drop of her like he has. No one has ever demanded her complete submission before him. His uttered words are to tell her that too; to make her grasp who she was made for. To tell her she belongs to him now.
“Please,” her plea comes, letting go of her inhibitions and her self doubt.
Her plea makes him harder than he’s ever been in his entire fucking life. It’s more than he can handle and makes him extremely impatient now. The need to bury his cock deep inside her nearly makes him laugh as if her needs control his own.
His finger slips from the heat of her.
“Turn over,” he tells her, his voice huskier than he expects.
She immediately flips onto her stomach without hesitation, and then onto her elbows and knees without question.
It’s a fucking marvelous sight.
She stays in that position without looking back as he moves behind her. It’s pure torture to see her ass and pussy glistening, awaiting…inviting…him.
Before he touches her body with his still slick fingers, he reaches forward and presses those fingers to her lips, forcing them in between. He didn’t have to tell her what to do. Her lips part and vacuum in those fingers, tasting herself. When her tongue twirls around them, his dick is slamming into her pussy, making her lips cover more of his finger.
“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s not going to last much longer and he can’t even blame it on his age. He isn’t that old.
It’s her. She drives him fucking crazy and makes him lose control and wit.
He can’t help but look down at his slickened dick every time he pulls out of her. Her cream paints him to the hilt and has him pounding into her as fast as his heart’s rhythm.
He can feel her body jerking and matching his rhythm. Her tells are all there, screaming how close she is and it only drives him to hammer into her like a fucking lunatic.
He removes his fingers from her mouth. Both of his hands grab each of her wrists, pinning them behind her back as he continues his conquest of everything that’s her.
“A-Adam,” he hears his muffled name escape.
“That’s it, kitten. Let go,” he tells her. He’s fucking her hard yet his words and sentiments are gentle.
She struggles to free herself from his clutch when he feels her walls begin their pulsing. He tightens his hold around her wrists with one hand. His other palm on her back to hold her down, forcing her to accept the pleasure waiting for her.
And she crashes.
She crashes and he burns.
He spills into her and she washes away his sins with the innocence of her unbridled pleasure.
Eight days. That’s how long Ariana has been at the estate. Of those eight days, three of them have been a fucking nightmare for her even though she hides her feening of the drugs. He can always see when she’s hanging by a thin thread.
He can’t keep her in his bedroom forever. He’s not a fool and won’t take all the credit for her ability to keep herself intact. She’s grown stronger. When she needs a moment, she asks him for that moment. When she feels she needs more, she hasn’t been afraid to ask him for more either.
She’s fighting and she’ll keep fighting because he’ll make sure she knows…she’s worth the fight.
It’s Jazzy who seems to help her the most though. Ariana lights up whenever she’s around his daughter even when they are doing the most mundane of things…like homework. Jazzy didn’t even ask why Ariana is staying at the mansion. He’d never seen that coming but they always made sure that his daughter never saw Ariana coming or going from his bedroom.