Arya
I walk into the humongous walk-in closet and all I can see is a blend of grey, white and black. There are just a few browns and blues. Everything is organized in sections; shirts, slacks, and coats. Then I find belts, shoes, and ties. Whoa! It’s like a mini clothes shop! Maybe it took him a whole lot of decades to collect all these? When does he ever wear them? Doesn’t he ever find it hard to choose, because they are almost the same color and style?
I go deeper inside, forgetting what brought me here. It is like I am trapped in here with his scent all around me. Then I land on a laundry basket where he put the sweats he was working out in. Unconsciously, I lean down and pick up the t-shirt, and bring it to my nose. I draw in a breath, filling my nostrils with his scent, mixed with his sweat, it is a heady mixture. It makes me high. It is my cocaine!
I stay like this for a long time, doing nothing but getting drunk with this scent and horny at the same time.
I hear breathing behind me that shakes me out of my reverie. I turn to find Logan looking down at me. My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. I try to hide my face in my hands, then realize I have his shirt in my hands. I just stare at him horror-stricken with frightened eyes. He raises an eyebrow at me with a coy smirk on his devilishly handsome face. My throat and my lips feel dry. God, I want him!
“You took long up here so I came to check on you in case you couldn’t find your purse,” he says as a way of explanation. Oh, my purse. I had forgotten all about it. He picks it up from a shelf in front of him and shows it to me.
“Oh, uh. I think I got carried away,” I mumble as the heat of embarrassment spreads all over my body. I wish I could hide. I wish I could fit in this laundry basket.
“I can see that,” he responds. “My dirty clothes seem to create quite the distraction.” I get up and grab the purse from him. He chuckles at my momentum and grabs my hand before dashing out of the closet, pulling me so that I bump into his rock-hard chest. His hands are on my waist, and before I know it, they are down to my ass pulling me into him. I struggle not to moan when I feel his chest. This is how he has been making me feel since morning and he knows it. He is getting the fun out of frustrating me. I try to break free but my efforts are futile.
“Why do you fight me, Arya, when we both know it is not what you want? Why are you so stubborn?” his voice is commanding, it makes me shudder.
“Let go of me!” I shout at him, trying hard to get his big hands off me. He gives me an evil side smirk.
“You can scream as much as you want and no one will come to save you,” he assures me. Leaning down to my face, I know what he is up to. I turn my face immediately to dodge him. He pushes me so that my back is on the wall. His chest is hard on my bosom. His hand’s cup
my face to keep me still as his lips descend harshly on mine, possessing my mouth. I struggle to free myself, but I finally submit to his lips, to his touch, just like a good mate.
He pulls away from the kiss and looks down at me. His eyes widen slightly, filled with wonder and lust. It’s a heady mix. I swallow instinctively. His hand moves down to my behind. He pulls me sharply against him, and I can feel his erection. His mouth drops open slightly in surprise, and beyond brave, I tentatively reach up and run my fingers down his cheek, along the edge of his sideburn, to the stubble on his chin.
It’s a curious mixture of soft and prickly. Slowly closing his eyes, he leans his face into my touch, and his breath hitches in his throat. Reaching up with my other hand, I run my fingers into his hair. I love his hair. His soft moan is barely audible, and when he opens his eyes, his look is – wary, like he doesn’t understand what I’m doing.
Stepping forward so I am flush against him, I pull gently on his hair, bringing his mouth down to mine, and I kiss him again, forcing my tongue between his lips and into his mouth. He groans, and his arms embrace me, pulling me to him. His hands find their way into my hair, and he kisses me back, hard and possessive. His tongue and my tongue twist and turn together, consuming each other. He tastes divine.
He pulls back suddenly, our collective breathing ragged and mingling. My hands drop to his arms and he glares down at me.
I can’t feel myself. I am so god-damned turned on and all I can think of is him. I know this will continue to get worse as long as I don’t get marked by him. The need will keep getting stronger and stronger pulling us to the inevitable, which I don’t want to happen. I want to be free. I don’t want to be tied to him forever. I don’t want to be hi-
“What are you thinking about?” he inquires. I push him by the chest and he lets go of me. I feel… bereft. Why?
“I was thinking about how I want to get out of here as soon as now,” I respond, raising my chin confidently and avoiding his eyes because I know they can bewitch.
“Okay,” he shrugs and then folds his hands in front of his chest. Okay? That was easy.
“But that’s not what your body is telling me,” he adds and his eyes dart to the floor. My purse lies down. When did that happen? I just had it in my hands… Ohh… The kiss! I must have dropped it in the heat of the moment. My cheeks flush with embarrassment. He gives me a victorious grin.
“You don’t have to keep lying to me, Arya. You might be able to keep your thoughts to yourself, but this body will always give you away,” he says, running his hand up my side. “You know why that’s so? Because it knows it very well it’s master. It knows who it belongs to. Because this body is mine, no matter how much you try to deny it.” His reserved smirk disappears replaced by a serious face.
“I thought you needed to make an urgent call. Isn’t it getting late?” He raises an eyebrow at me.
I pick up my purse from the floor and walk angrily out of the closet. Ugh! What’s happening to me? I have lost myself. I don’t know who I am anymore. He is fucking with my senses. I am here in the house of my parents’ murderers feeling so comfortable and confidently horny. I am such a selfish bitch.
I switch on my phone and the battery is screaming for salvation. Shit! Anyway, it would be enough for this call.
I dial Penny’s number and stroll to the window.
“Hi, bitch!” she answers. My eyes dart to the closet watching out for Logan.
“Good morning, Penny,” I try to be the civilized one.
“Did you get laid? How was it?” she shrieks with excitement.
“No, you bitch! Is that what you wanted when you called him to come and get me?” I am whispering.
“Maybe yes and maybe no. Entirely, it was a yes. Don’t be so selfish. Give the guy a chance,” she replies. I feel like strangling her through the phone.
“Don’t fucking meddle. It’s my business!” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“Don’t be mad at me. I was as drunk as you were. Probably even more. All I could think of was the hot prince and he was the last person you had contacted,” she responds. I take in a deep relaxing breath.
“When I see you, I promise, I will murder you!” She giggles.
“Okay, I will gladly await my verdict, ma’am,” she says. “Did he mark you?”
“No,” I respond immediately.
“Jeez, sounds like you have slept the entire time you were there,” the disappointment is clear in her voice.
“I can assure you that nothing happened.” Though the strange part of me wishes something had happened. I am a conflicting mess. I look back at the closet and find Logan watching me while leaning against the closet door. How long has he been there? He makes me want to change my last statement.
“What a waste! You are the biggest disappointment of my life!” she declares.
“And you are mine,” I respond. There is a male voice on the other side of the line. I trace something like … baby and then some shuffling.
“Look, Arya. I have got to go,” she says quickly.
“What? Who is that?”
“I will tell you when I see you. At least I made better use of my night than you probably did. Don’t leave that beast’s castle before he puts a mark on you,” she says and then the line goes dead. Fuck! She hung up on me! Where the hell is she, and with who?
I know I shouldn’t worry about Penny. She is a big girl and she knows how to take care of herself, more than I do.
“That call didn’t sound promising,” Logan says. I roll my eyes at him.
“I am leaving,” I say, placing my phone in my purse.