Chapter 4

Eliana

I went upstairs the minute we got into the house for a change of clothes. I still couldn't believe that he had volunteered to stay with me. As I ascended the stairs to go back to the living room, where Nicholas was, I felt like I shouldn't have accepted his offer. I was scared, though, of being alone at night in the same house where my father had been murdered.

"I didn't know what you liked watching, so..." Nicholas referred to the TV with a slight shift of his hand. He was going through a list of movies on N*****x, his muscular back right in front of my hungry eyes. He was still standing, but he had removed his jacket and his boots. His biceps had my hands itching to touch them. To trace every tattoo on them while he grunted in pleasure.

"I figured since we'll be here for a while, why not enjoy a movie and get to know each other?" His calmness made me question my racing heartbeat. His presence alone made my legs jelly.

"I'm not really a fan of watching. I prefer reading novels." I plopped down on my favourite couch, conscious of the nightdress that I wore. He hadn't looked at me; his attention was still on the TV, and somehow I wanted him to look at me. I craved for his eyes to roam over my body and make me the centre of his attention.

'Get your shit together, girl. He is way too mature for you,' I chastised myself quietly, rubbing my temples furiously.

"Why don't we try this one?" I sighed, looking at the poster, which had a woman lying beneath a man in an intimate position. The movie's name was 365 Days; there was nothing interesting about it, but the poster had my curiosity piquing. When he finally turned, he blatantly looked at me from my chest down to my exposed legs.

Then he cleared his throat, blinked rapidly as if to clear his thoughts, and looked elsewhere. I let a brief smile show before he turned because his reaction confirmed that I was affecting him. It felt so different to have a man of his age, a decade plus, look at me like that. It was the thrill his eyes brought that affected me to no end. Not even boys in my school had managed to make me want them in such a careless manner.

I expected him to sit on the opposite couch, but instead he sat down beside me, leaving a tiny space between us. The proximity had my senses awakening, and I went wild at his seductive cologne as it filled my nose.

"You better hope it's not a bore," I teased to calm my nerves. I sat upright, rigid like a rock, afraid of leaning and having my dress ride up my thighs. I hadn't really thought about it when I changed into the satin material, but I was most certainly regretting wearing it.

"Well, we'll find out. Won't we?" He leaned down towards my left ear as he whispered the last part. His breath fanned my exposed neck, making tingles spread. I didn't trust my voice; I just nodded as the movie started playing.

"Hey, relax, I don't bite...unless you want me to," he said when he noticed how rigid my posture was, then leaned on the couch. His statement had a double meaning, and I stopped myself from telling him that I wanted him to bite. I shifted slightly and finally leaned on the leather sofa, letting out a low moan when my back relaxed.

I kept my eyes on the movie, but I could feel his eyes on me. He was making me nervous without even trying to. There I was, barely hours after meeting him, seated and watching a movie together. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't harm me; I felt oddly safe around him.

I hadn't even caught on to the characters names; my mind was preoccupied with trying to stop thinking about how close the man was to me. Minutes into the movie, the lead characters began kissing while the woman was in her wedding gown. I debated closing my eyes until the scene was over but decided against it. I was 20 years old, and there wasn't any need to feel uncomfortable.

A minute into the scene, things got heated up, and I couldn't stop my nipples from reacting as well. My pussy tingled as I imagined Nicholas doing the same to me. I had gone months without having sex after my ex broke up with me when I needed him the most. All that pent-up frustration, coupled with an erotic movie scene and a hot, sexy man beside me, had heat rushing straight to my core.

I suppressed a whimper when the woman's dress was hiked up and her husband unbuckled his belt. Beside me, Nicholas shifted, putting additional distance between us. I felt a pang in my chest at his blatant rejection. But wasn't that what I should have wanted? For him to respect my boundaries, then why did it hurt when he scooted away from me?

I shifted my eyes to my lap, just hoping the sensual scene would be over. I waited a few minutes after it was over and excused myself to go get a glass of cold water. In the kitchen, I leaned on the granite counter, trying to calm down my desires. I was ashamed of myself for wanting a man I barely knew to touch me. I poured myself some water, but I just stared at the glass on the counter.

"Were you really thirsty for water?" I tensed when he spoke. I didn't fail to notice the slight huskiness of his voice as he stood behind me. All my efforts to calm down my nerves proved futile when he put his veinous hands on the counter, on either side of my body.

I was trapped.

I took a deep breath, trying to reign in my feelings. "Y-es, I was thirsty," I answered breathlessly.

"I think you are thirsty, but not for water." His innuendo had me pressing my legs together when a throbbing ache engulfed my sex. The throb was almost as fast as my pulse, and it threatened to mess with my senses. I could feel my core begin to moisten as the seconds went by.

"You're wrong." The words came off as a seductive whisper as I responded.

"Am I?" he hummed, letting go of the counter. He trailed his hands along my upper arms, making my heart leap inside. His touch—god,  his touch—almost made me melt into a puddle on the tiled kitchen floor. It was an innocent touch, but my body didn't seem to care.

"What are you doing?" It was a miracle I could still talk given how much I was struggling to breathe. I was sure he could hear my breath becoming louder and louder as he rubbed my arms.

"Proving my point. That you are thirsty for something else." He bent, whispering behind my ear, before he gave the lobe a gentle bite.

"Aah," I moaned, covering my mouth instantly with the palm of my hand.

"Sweet goddess," he rasped, massaging my shoulders. He played with the straps of my nightdress, making me tremble in front of him. Was he daring enough to push the straps down past my shoulders, or was I bold enough to let him do that? I thought.

"You're a fucking temptress, Ellie," he added, lowering his hands to the front neck, then right above my boobs. I held my breath, waiting for him to cup my boobs and feel him fondle them. Someone chose to give him a phone call in that moment, making me swear inwardly.

I listened to him talk, changing his tone to a flat one. I stood there, refusing to turn and look at him. I didn't want to see the look on his face or for him to see the blatant arousal written on my face.

"It's late; you need to rest. I will be here when you wake up." Something in his voice changed after the call he received. He dismissed me without even sparing a glance. Deciding not to argue, I nodded quietly and left the kitchen, taking my glass of water with me. To some extent, I was happy the person called because I wasn't sure I would have stopped him from touching me. I wanted him so much that it burned.

"There's a spare room upstairs if you want to lie down." I called from the sitting room after putting distance between us. I told myself that what I was feeling for him was dangerous and that it would be for the best if he stayed downstairs.

"I'm fine. Go now," he dismissed quickly again, making me head upstairs with my mind crowded by a cycle of thoughts. That night, I slept with an ache between my legs, wondering about what would have happened if his phone hadn't rung.