by Lily White
Nodding my head, I realize I’m lost.
“I miss a lot of things,” I admit, the level of honesty surprising me.
Ari’s hand slips down to tease the swell of my bottom, before lifting again so that no one will notice how he touches me.
“I think you should let go for once. Do something reckless.”
I smile against his cheek.
“I think you’ve already helped me accomplish that twice.”
He spins with me across the dance floor, and I cling to him, mesmerized, seduced.
“More reckless than what we’ve already done,” he answers, undisguised lust in his words. “He doesn’t notice when you’re missing, and although I wish I had hours to play with you properly, I can make do with a few minutes as well. There’s something to be said for fast and hard.”
The comment hits me right between the thighs, heat blooming.
I feel damp all over. Sticky. Needy in a way I’ve never felt before.
“It’s a pity this music isn’t faster,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth brushing my cheek. “I’d like to watch you lose control. Watch you let go to something stronger than yourself. I bet I’d lose control, too. My hunger for you...”
Ari’s voice trails off, but he’s already achieved the damage he’s looking to cause, has left my will to deny him in a puddle at his feet.
“You make me vulnerable,” I admit, not sure why I’m telling him this. “I can’t hide from you.”
I feel the brush of his mouth against my ear, his heat surrounding me and drawing me in. Every place he touches me is a feather light stroke, but every one of them is a promise of sensual pain.
Ari isn’t the type to play fair. He isn’t the type to ask nicely either. I know that when this man wants something, he’s the type who will take it and refuse to apologize.
The song ends and grey eyes capture mine, his thumb rubbing against my hip. “Meet me by the restrooms.”
“I can’t,” I argue, the sound of it so ridiculously weak.
“I think you can,” is all he says as he slips away from me to wind through the crowd and out of sight.
I turn to find my husband isn’t concerned about me, his gaze focused on the potential money gathering around him in their designer tuxedos. He won’t know if I slip away.
Stuck in place, I look toward the back hall leading to the restrooms, indecision holding me in that one spot where Ari left me.
I hate him for this. Hate the temptation, but it’s still there. So undeniable that I’m swimming in it, battling myself about what I should do and what I want to do.
Why am I kidding myself? I’d already lost the battle before Ari took the first step away from me.
One last glance at my husband and I walk to the back hallway, my steps hurried, my head angled so my hair will hang down and hide my face.
I’m three quarters of the way to the restrooms when guilt consumes me, my feet stopping in place, my heart hammering hard beneath my ribs.
I can’t do this...
Not again.
This would be the last step to undoing all I’ve worked to accomplish, like this decision will be the disaster that decimates everything I’ve become.
Poor little Adeline wants Ari so bad she can taste it. But grown up Adeline can hear the ticking of a bomb, can sense the certainty that it’s only a matter of time before it explodes.
I turn around and head in the opposite direction, only to have fingers lock down on my arm, my body tugged down a darker, narrow hallway I hadn’t noticed.
My back slams against the wall before I can complain, a hand locking over my throat as Ari’s mouth closes over mine with such male possession that I open for his tongue to slide in, his taste like the sweetest of poisons sinking slowly into my veins.
Fingertips drag up the back of my thigh, and I tremble in place.
He takes without apology. Just like I knew he would.
When he breaks the kiss to drag his mouth down to my shoulder, my hands dive into his hair, the dark silk so soft between my fingers.
“We’ll get caught,” I whisper.
Ari speaks against my skin. “Don’t make a sound and we won’t.”
He bites the soft spot of my shoulder and my knees threaten to give out. “Someone will come down here.”
His hand flexes over my throat. “They won’t.”
“How do you-“
He tugs the knot at the back of my neck, and my dress falls down, the material held loosely at my waist where his hips press against me. All he has to do is step back and I’m in panties, the low murmur of the party only feet away, filtering down the hall.
We’re hidden in deep shadow. Nobody glancing down can see us, but I can see them, a person passing in one direction or the other as they move between the party and the restrooms.
“Ari...”
His hand moves from my throat to my mouth, silencing me as his head dips down to suck a nipple into his mouth, tugging hard until the nerves are too sensitive to bear.
My dress slides to my feet, and he uses his free hand to softly scrape fingernails up the back of one thigh, pull my legs apart and cup my soaked panties with his palm.
His head lifts as his mouth presses to my ear, his voice so fucking arrogant that I tremble against it.
“I knew you’d be dripping. This time will be fast and hard because we don’t have time for anything else. But next time, I plan to take hours exploring every inch of you, kissing every freckle, licking every hole.”
A breathless mumble against his palm. “Next time?”
I can feel him smile, and it kills me that I can’t see it. I know it’s beautiful. I know it’s blinding.
“There will be a next time, Adeline. I promise you that.”
His thumb slips beneath the side of my panties, tugging the soaked fabric down until it drops to my ankles. Quickly releasing me to slip them from my feet, he tucks them into his pocket as he pushes back up.
I hear his belt unbuckle as his breath pours down my neck, hot and fast, the lapels of his jacket brushing against my bare breasts.
Daring to reach between us, I run my fingers up the hard ridges of his abdomen, my hands exploring around his waist as he pulls his cock free and reaches into his pocket for a condom.
Ari tears the wrapper of the condom with his teeth, and then drops his hands between us to roll it down the hard length of him.
He grips my ass one handed and lifts me up, pinning me against the wall as he slides his hand down to notch the head of his cock between my legs.
With one hand locking over my mouth again and the other sliding under my ass to hold me in place, he thrusts inside me fully with one forceful stroke, a cry of both pain and pleasure volleying up my throat to be muffled by his palm.
He’s so big that I’m stretched apart, filled in such a way that all I can feel is him.
Ari stays still until my body has accepted the size of him, my frantic breath bursting against his hand.
Lips brush my ear, hot and teasing. “Remember to stay quiet. We wouldn’t want to get caught.”
Easier said than done when his hips move, his cock pulling out to the tip before slamming back into me.
Every thrust drives my back up the wall, my body sliding against the smooth plaster, the wet sounds of slapping skin forcing my eyes to clench shut just before he whispers his demand.
“Eyes open, Adeline. I want you to see who’s owning you right now.”
I force my eyes apart and I’m met with the chilling silver-grey of his possessive stare. I swear this man can blend perfectly into the darkness so that only his eyes shine through.
Like a ghost.
A phantom.
A shadow that hovers above me when I sleep...
Our bodies come together with pure desperation. An orgasm is already threatening to explode inside me as the back of my head rolls over the wall, my gaze falling on the hallway just feet from us where people are walking.
Gloria walks
into view, the silver sparkle of her gown glimmering beneath the hall light. Terror races through me, Ari’s cock still thrusting hard. The combination of the two sensations is a detonator inside me, my orgasm blowing up, the pleasure like shrapnel tearing through me until I feel as if I’m being ripped apart.
While Gloria pauses for a second to search for something in her purse, Ari muffles the moans crawling up my throat with his hand, finally letting go to grip my chin, drag my face back to his and cover my mouth to swallow the sound.
His body moves harder and faster, skin slapping, my back being shoved up the wall as he drives deeper inside me and breaks the kiss to press his forehead to mine
“Fuck...”
His cock throbs inside me as he finds his own release, our breath beating between us so hard that I can’t think straight.
How he was able to keep that quiet, I have no idea, but my face hurts from how tight he’d kept his hand over my mouth, my teeth scraping against the inside of my cheeks from his fingers digging into the flesh.
After one more lazy, lingering kiss, he sets me back on my feet, his eyes holding mine, triumph swirling behind them.
I glance back at the hall and Gloria is gone. We managed not to get caught.
Ari picks up my dress. As he pulls it up my body, he presses soft kisses to my skin.
I take the sashes to tie at the back of my neck while he pulls the condom off, ties the end and slips it into his pocket.
“You’ll ruin your pants that way,” I say.
He grins. “It’s worth it.”
Eventually we get ourselves partially presentable, our eyes meeting in the dark space.
“You’ll ruin me,” I mention, truly believing what I said.
Tapping his finger against my chin, he plants a chaste kiss on my lips, speaking against them on a whisper that drives another shiver through me.
“I already have.” Another kiss. “Take your time fixing yourself in the bathroom. I’ll go out and distract your husband until you return.”
Guilt floods me, the pressure of it threatening to snap my bones. If Ari notices, he doesn’t say. He simply winks before walking off, his tux in place, the only hint something happened being the way his hair is disheveled like he just rolled out of bed.
It only makes him sexier.
But then I remember.
“Ari,” I whisper hiss, relieved when he glances back instead of walking away as if he hadn’t heard me.
“My panties. Give them back.”
The corner of his lips curl, his eyes flashing with amusement. “You still owe me for helping you earlier. I’ll keep them as payment.”
I watch him walk off with a liquid strut, his muscular body moving with such casual sophistication that I have to drag in a shuddering breath to remember what we just did.
I take my time leaving the hall to go to the bathroom, and after cleaning up, I fix my dress, makeup and hair.
On as steady steps as I can manage, I try to ignore the ache between my legs as I return to the ballroom to find Ari talking to my husband, his eyes catching mine as a reminder of what we did, but his expression revealing he feels no guilt for it.
“Adeline,” Grant says as his gaze meets mine. “Come, I’d like to introduce you to some of my new investors.”
I accept his hand and step up beside him, doing my best to play the part of the good wife.
The entire time, I’m hyperaware of the devil who stands on the other side of me, the one who is slowly tearing me apart, piece by piece, every time we’re in the same room together.
Adeline
Ari left shortly after what we did. It wasn’t a mad rush for the exit, nothing as obvious as that. But after another hour of mingling with Grant and his friends, Ari made excuses that he had to leave and managed to avoid me while doing so.
I don’t think it was because he intended to actually avoid me. But I was acting jumpy after having sex with him, and he was doing his best not to make the situation worse.
Once he was gone, I calmed down, and after the men grouped off to have their drinks, smoke their cigars and talk business and money, I remembered my duties as the host’s wife.
For the most part, the rest of the night was easy. A few women asked me about the mysterious man talking to Grant, making it clear that they appreciated the view, even when they had husbands of their own. But Ari has that effect.
He’s a dark star among all the glittering ones, the type of person you watch in your peripheral vision because you can never be too sure what he’s thinking.
While other men like to boast and brag, preening like peacocks to show off their pretty feathers, Ari draws you in through his casual indifference, his confidence that doesn’t require the flash of money or mention of success to prove he’s a man worthy of attention.
The party winds down eventually, and after all the guests have left, I ride home with Grant in the limo we hired for the night. He’s oddly quiet during the drive, but I brush it off as exhaustion and the alcohol he drank all night.
We’re almost home when his hand grips my knee and runs down my leg, his green eyes glimmering with the need for something I can’t stomach giving him.
What have I done?
I’m not sure, but I know it’s a different feeling. Grant’s touch is expected, cordial in a way. A boon of marriage that means he doesn’t have to try anymore. Just roll over and I’m there.
What’s odd is that I hadn’t noticed the change until now. Not until I remembered what it can be like to lose yourself in another person.
When Ari touches me, I burn. Every nerve ending on fire, my lungs struggling to breathe. He makes my mind spin, and I can’t imagine he would ever settle for a lazy fuck, something used to get off before rolling over to go to sleep.
He’s too darkly passionate for that.
Too dirty.
And I know this from only brief moments we’ve had together. I can’t imagine what he could do if he had hours to practice his sensually cruel torture.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” Grant says, cutting into thoughts I should not be having. His voice is deep, his words slightly slurred.
“Thank you. I’m glad you approved.”
His hand squeezes my leg. Not enough to hurt, but a warning.
“I’m your husband,” he says, a sharp edge to his voice, “of course I approve. I wouldn’t have married you otherwise.”
My eyes close at the hint that I’m a pretty ornament and nothing more.
Was he like this before we got married? I’m not sure. I try to think back and look for signs of it, but if they were there, I’d missed them.
I want to blame myself for that. I should blame myself for that. Sadly, I was so desperate to change my life then that I wasn’t paying much attention to the finer details.
With Grant, I saw security. Stability. Someone who, at the time, could help teach me responsibility.
It’s likely I’d mistaken his actions as concern when they were much more insidious than that. It wasn’t an overnight change, more of a slow roll, so languid that I accepted each step without realizing it was a step at all.
After we married, I allowed myself to be isolated. I stopped talking to friends, people I’d known for years. But I’d happily done so because they were my past, my club buddies, the people who had been bad influences. Grant’s dislike of them appeared to have a justifiable reason.
As for family, I have none. My aunt, but we were never close. She only stepped in on paper when I needed a guardian, but she was never there.
I have Grant and his sister, Gloria, for companions now. That’s it. But the process to finding myself in this position seemed natural.
Other changes occurred after. But they crept in like a disease rather than slapping me in the face with the sudden shift. That’s how you miss them, though. It’s never enough to draw suspicion because it’s so subtle.
Not even a year into our marriage and the behavioral modifications are almost complete. I
realize that now. And although I’m not sure why Ari’s presence has helped rip away the curtain and show me what I’ve given up, the truth is that it has.
And it pisses me off.
I want my life back. Maybe not the wildest parts, the decisions that carried bad consequences. But the freedom...I miss that.
Dancing. My music. My art.
All the things that made me who I am have been packed up with the rest of the belongings I chose to keep when I moved into Grant’s mansion. They’ve been collecting dust while he molds me into what he wants.
And I let him.
Only because I doubted myself.
Only because I became skittish and stopped trusting myself.
I let him.
It’s a hard pill to swallow.
But I’m still not sure Grant is doing this intentionally. And that’s why I haven’t left yet. It’s also why the guilt is eating away at me even now.
I’ve cheated on my husband three times. And if Ari were here, I know I’d do it again.
Which means I have no choice but to avoid Ari.
The limo pulls up to the front of our house, and Grant’s hand slides higher up my thigh. It’s an invitation for what he wants. But I can’t welcome it.
Not while I’m still dirty from another man. And not when bile crawls up my throat at the thought of sex with my husband.
When the car comes to a full stop, I pull away from his touch.
“I think I’m going to go to our room and take a bath. My head hurts from the champagne, and my feet are killing me from wearing heels all night.”
Those emerald green eyes catch mine, his fingers curling into his palm, but he smiles and says nothing as the driver opens my door and offers me a hand to help me from the car.
We walk up the steps to the front door, and I wait as Grant unlocks it then holds it open for me.
“Go get your bath. I’ll bring you something to help with the headache.”
Another pang of guilt flashes inside me. It’s not often Grant offers to do anything for me, and to hear him do so now only rips open the wound I have on my soul for breaking my vows to him.
“Thanks,” I whisper before running down the hall to start the bath and step out of the gown I’ve worn all evening. As soon as I pull it off, I realize I’m completely naked, my panties in the pocket of a man I can’t get out of my head.