Chapter 10: Sweet Dreams
There was a shadow in the corner of my room.
It was the type of shadow that made you didn't know whether it was real or not. A figment of your imagination? Perhaps. But that didn't stop you from being scared shitless of it.
And that was me at the moment.
With narrowed eyes, I tried to see what was really there, desperate to clear the clouds of my mind.
My fear increased when it shifted again.
Crap, so it is real.
Staring from my spot on the bed where I became terribly immobilized, I bared witness as the unknown figure took the shape of a man.
Stepping out of the shadows, a face with a certain lightness that lifted and sunk the heart at the same time was revealed.
His silver eyes shifted to a darkened colorâgreyâand they gazed down at me with a look I've never seen before. I gasped when he was before me in a span of seconds and hovered over my bed. I was caged in by his muscular body, eyes roaming the delicious sight while my mind tried to make sense of this predicament I was stuck in.
"Angelo, what do you think you're doing-"
His lips were on mine in a flash and I grunted at the force of him. Something about it was rough and dominant but at the same time inexplicably sweet. It was like he knew my limits and just at which pace to go. A mild one with just enough excitement to get the blood rushing through my veins.
Hands reaching up to take a hold of mine and pin them against the bed head, my eyes fluttered as his tongue started to explore my mouth. He tasted like cherries and everything sweet. I couldn't wrap my mind around the hypnotizing aura he exuded while taking claim of me. It was totally out of this world. When he pulled away from my mouth, I thought he had done so to allow me some air but that clearly wasn't the case when he used the opportunity to bite down onto my lower lipâhard.
I let out something close to a screech and I tried to push him off of me but suddenly my arms had no strength.
My eyes widened in fear.
Involuntarily, my body shut down and gave him free access to do whatever he wanted with me, even though it was against my free will. As if he wasn't the least bit fazed by my submissive state, he trailed a playful hand across the span of my chest and my anxiety heightened at the realization that my upper half was suddenly bare.
By some miraculous means, the top I had worn to sleep had been removed and tossed to some far corner in the room.
And because of that, I was scared shitless by what this man could really do to me in this additionally vulnerable state.
He had a goal with the pace he was moving at and I couldn't compete against it even if I wanted to. His big hands traveled up the side of my body and found my breasts, cupping them like trophies and giving them a firm squeeze and guess what? I fucking moaned. Like a bitch in heat. Out of all the things my body could've been permitted to do it had to be reacting wantonly to his touches.
Silver stars danced among his pupils as he gazed back up at me, his amusement very clear.
I tried to kick my legs in his annoyingly handsome face to see if he'd still be laughing then but nothing came of it.
As if he knew my attempt, his hand intentionally went there with a smirk and the entire time he played with the strings of my shorts.
I wanted to stop him. Really I did.
But just because you wanted something to happen doesn't mean it actually does.
When his first finger poked my sensitive area I jumped and yelled to stop at him it, but it only came out as a muted complaint.
My last resort was to plead with him through my eyesâones that he was intentionally avoiding from the looks of it. Disheartened upon noticing that, I watched silently as he slipped his hands beneath my night shorts. Just as my body tensed by the feel of him beginning to explore me this intimately, my heart shot out my chest at what happened next.
RRRRIP!
I looked down at him, shocked beyond comprehension.
He didn't justâ
"Oops," he chuckled darkly, holding the remaining pieces of my boy shorts in his hand.
"I guess I got a little ahead of myself there, didn't I?" His eyes shone with what was nothing close to regret.
It was like he was enjoying himself, like one did when playing a game of beer pong or strip tease. Only this time the loser hadn't volunteered to play in the first place.
It's meâI'm the sore loser.
My self pity ended the moment he licked his lips and without any hesitation, he was placing his kisses down low. Definitely more to my free will, I was meekly obedient when my eyes shut and a pleasured moan slipped past my lips. He took that as his cue to work me with more vigor, licking and sucking as if it was the greatest joy of his. It was now a matter of self-preservation as I tried to fight my body's reaction to release. It was futile, however, when he pressed me further against him and fucking moaned.
The sound travelled against my skin in waves and I bit my lip.
It was to such a painful extent that I thought I drew a bit of blood.
It was almost as if he struck something inside of meâsomething that was raw and unrestrained.
I couldn't find the time to be shocked by the fact that my legs were given total control to me again when I bucked against him. It was too late by then. With an expert flick of his tongue, I started to tremble and my release slammed into me like a freight train.
My mind told my hands to push him off me but it appeared me ripping the hell out of his luscious hair was more desirable. He grunted at my roughness, his scalp probably burning but he didn't stop his assault at my core until I felt another wave of pleasure coming.
"Fuck, no." I cried.
"Fuck, yes." He coaxed in a deep voice, pushing me towards another climax.
My wits were completely obliterated when he slid a finger inside me. The swift action of his teeth scraping against my hard nipple bud that had been exposed earlier was all it took to take me there again.
"'Mhm..." I tried to swallow my desperate cry but his face came into view through the room like an angel combating darkness. It was like he was generating light with his body, a certain warmth spreading through the air. I whimpered at the sinful exposure I got to him and even more so when he claimed my lips once more, but this time he didn't close his eyes. He watched me; eyes hooded and orbs glowing a magnificent hue. I couldn't think of anything when he looked at me like that. It was with such unrestricted, borderline carnal desire that I was stunned.
When I finally stopped shaking, he pulled away from me slowly and gave a tentative peck to my cheek. It was a reward of some sorts as he assessed me with a look contrary to his earlier ones; it was warm and nearly ardent.
"My apologies once again, Belle." He said with a self-reflective tone.
And just as his lips were about to descend upon mine again, I was dragged out of my dream by the sound of my alarm clock.
My eyes snapped open as my subconscious was broken and I stared up at my plain ceiling in a daze.
"What the hell..."
I couldn't even formulate into words how I was feeling right now.
By some law of bad karma, I had just undergone the unspeakable.
I had a wet dream about Angelo.
The mentally unstable, hot as fuck Greek-god looking man with a pair of eyes too beautiful to be real.
My hands slapped themselves against my forehead as I released a groan. Of all the embarrassing moments in my life, this one surely topped the list. I couldn't believe that I was so sexually deprived that I had stooped as low as creating a scenario in which we were intimate with each other. After his magical finger had their moment at his apartment, I'd convinced myself to not count my initially high rating of his skills because that had been clouded by my desperation but oh godâeven in an unrealistic state he was incredible.
Maybe I should've dreamt of us going all the way, a part of me surprised me by thinking.
I slapped myself too hard to be considered a joke.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Oh, I know.
My coochie wasn't getting no smoochie.
And that, my friend, was a crime against the entire female population.
Well, at least the side that swung that way.
Kicking the suffocating sheets off me, I waddled to the bathroom in an uncomfortable state and cleaned myself. After showering and doing the necessary self-care, I was ready for another day at work. Dressed in a knee-length, black pleated skirt and a matching long-sleeved shirt, I quickly did my hair. Against my toned skin it was usually more beautiful than any salon-perfect "do." But today wasn't a day to be self conscious. I was influenced by my sour mood so I just tied it up behind my head. Its messiness had it's own attractiveness thankfully and with that, I slipped my heels on and headed for the front door.
For some reason, traffic was lousier than usual this morning so when I stopped to get my regular coffee it caused me to be running ten minutes late. Cursing the bad luck I had, I was rushing out my car and through the doors of the publishing company in a bustle. I clocked in without any of my coworkers or supervisors giving me bullshit for being tardy. Just when I thought I had gotten off scot-free, I whirled around into a hard chest.
Unfortunately upon doing so, my cup of coffee went and spilled all over it.
My eyes widened in surprised.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" Frantically my hands tried to wipe at the white of his shirt but it only made things worse. Cringing at the mess not being fixed, I looked up with the intention to offer to cover his dry cleaning service or something along those lines. However, I froze at who stood before me.
My hands fisted themselves instinctively at the sight of Stephen and even though I willed myself not to, I felt a shiver of fear run down my spine.
He blanched, probably noticing the change of my attitude.
"I..." I swallowed harshly. "I can cover the costs of dry cleaning for you. Or maybe run out at lunch to get you a new shirt."
Even though I really didn't want to talk to him after what he had done over the weekend, I didn't want to make a scene.
What had happened between us was during our personal time meeting, not within our professional lives.
I couldn't retract away from him in the way like I would like to. Even more so, I couldn't make him out to be a mortal enemy when we would have to work together every day. It was gonna be torture for me, I realized as I stared at his innocent face that had tricked me before.
Before he attempted to sexually assault me in his car.
"No, it's o-okay," he stuttered nervously and my eyes squinted in suspicion at it. "I always have a spare shirt in case of, you know, emergencies like this."
I couldn't even fake a smile like I desired in this awkward situation.
The air surrounding us was stifling and I didn't think I would be able to function without blowing up at him any moment, so I just nodded numbly and walked away.
"Isabelle, are you okay?" I glanced up just in time to see my colleague, Claire, gesturing towards the cup I had beneath the coffee machine. She notified me just in time before the hot liquid spilled all over my hand.
"Oh crap, thanks."
With a sense of caution, I held the cup in my hand and went to the bin to spill some of it off.
"That could've turned out really bad there," she blew out, going to get a cup for herself.
Her attire was with one of a polished individual, her brown hair in a slick ponytail. It was tight enough that I couldn't even imagine rocking it without getting a headache. The cardigan and baggy pants told a story of her stuck-up nature many workers often gossiped about behind her back. I wasn't involved, of course, just listened with one ear opened and the other closed. No reaction necessary.
Contrary to popular belief, I thought Claire was a sweetheart.
She never crossed the boundaries where our professional lives were involved, and even more so with her curiosity regarding my personal one.
Her face always held a smile that could lift your spirits unknowingly.
To be honest, I could bet half my fortune that people were just jealous she was born into a rich family and achieved her own route of success as an editor.
"Tell me about it." I agreed with a sigh of relief.
"Something on your mind? You've seemed preoccupied all morning."
Her eyes already held an apology in the case that what she had said was prying and I couldn't help but smile softly.
"Let's just say I've had a rough night." I ran a hand through my hair before bringing the cup of coffee to my lips.
She flushed at my words, "Oh."
I choked up on my drink.
"Not in that way!" I corrected myself quickly.
The girl seemed to blush even harder at her misunderstanding.
"Just a lack of sleep." I said with words that hopefully wouldn't be taken another way.
"Insomnia?" She inquired with her brows raising in concern.
I thought about a dark-haired seducer's lips between my legs and flinched at the image.
"Something of that sorts." I nodded easily.
She took a hold of her coffee that finished right in time before suggesting, "Maybe you should start cutting down on the amount of coffee you drink. They say the effects of caffeine can last for several hours so the chances of it affecting your sleep are high. So maybe cut down on it a bit, yeah?"
I looked down at the aforementioned in my hand with a grim smile.
"You're asking of me the impossible."
She laughed at that, throwing her head back looking as youthful as ever.
If her job description didn't require one to be twenty-two years and older I wouldn't believe she was a day past twenty.
"Then try exercising before going to bed. You'll be surprised by how quickly you'll go out like a light."
"You sound very experienced about this." I noted with a curious tone as my head titled in inspection of her.
She gave way to a flirty smile. "I'm experienced about many things."
I blinked.
"Excuse me?"
Her gaze unclouded before she gave me a polite smile before ending our conversation. "Just remember what I said about the caffeine and exercise."
And just like that, she walked out of the staff room, the scent of her fruity perfume leaving a trail.
I stared ahead of me, in a state of disbelief at the way she had coquetted with me.
Did Claire Townsend just freaking flirt with me?
***
No shit Sherlock.