Chapter 93 Do You Feel It Here?
Chapter 93 Do You Feel It Here?
I clung to his chest, gasping, coughing, my fist pounding his shoulder.
"Arthur! Are you insane? You almost drowned me!"
His chest rumbled against mine, the vibration traveling through every inch of skin pressed between us. "I'd never let that happen."
He held me like I was something precious he'd lost and found again, steadying me until I could float on my own.
We drifted there, naked in the moonlit expanse of the ocean. No clothes. No titles. No schemes. None of the suffocating weight of our pasts or futures. Just us.
I stared at his face, close enough to count the water droplets sliding down the sharp bridge of his nose, pooling on those full, sensual lips.
His amber eyes burned brighter than the stars, filled with raw, unfiltered hunger.
"You're impossible," I murmured, lifting my hand to wipe the water from his mouth, my fingertip tracing the curve of his lower lip, my voice edged with challenge.
"Oh?" He arched a brow, letting my finger linger there. "News to me."
"You ruined the candles, knocked over the champagne," I listed his crimes, one by one. "And in the end, your guest had to save your ass."
He caught my hand, brought it to his mouth, and bit down gently on my fingertip.
"Is that right?" His gaze darkened, pulling me deeper. "Well, the mood's burning hot now."
His other hand slid down my spine, stopping at the curve of my ass, gripping hard and pulling me flush against him.
Through the thin barrier of water, I felt the unmistakable heat and hardness of his cock pressing against me.
Heat flooded my face.
"Sophia," he said, his voice a low rasp as his lips brushed my ear. "How do you feel about… right here?"
"About… what?" My voice shook.
"Fucking you. Right here."
My brain short-circuited.
Here? In the ocean?
The man was utterly out of his mind.
This was crazier than anything he'd done before. And more… thrilling.
My heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst through my throat.
I should push him away. Tell him he was out of line. Remind him I wasn't some toy he could bend to his will.
But I didn't.
I stared into those eyes—wild, certain, blazing with possession—and something inside me snapped. The part of me I'd kept locked down for too long, the part that belonged to Sophia, came roaring back to life.
I wrapped my arms around his neck.
Then I tilted my head up and kissed him—hard, defiant, claiming his mouth before he could claim mine.
The kiss was salt and sin.
He froze for half a second, then took over, devouring me with a force that left no room for air.
I wrapped my legs around his waist.
The buoyancy of the water made me weightless, hypersensitive.
He spun us around, pressing my back against the cold, unyielding hull of the yacht.
The icy steel against my spine and the scorching heat of his chest created a contrast so sharp it made me shudder.
"Sophia," he growled against my lips, biting down hard before pulling back just enough to press his forehead to mine, his eyes locking onto me like a predator. "Tell me this is what you want."
"Isn't it obvious?" I gasped, smiling like something wild and untamed.
"Is it?"
His grin was lethal, beautiful, and full of dark promise.
Without warning, he gripped my hips and lifted—then drove into me in one brutal thrust.
A strangled moan ripped from my throat. My body went rigid, every nerve ending lighting up at once.
The stretch was overwhelming, the fullness almost too much. The cold seawater became the perfect slickness, wrapping around where we were joined, every slight movement sending shockwaves through me.
He didn't move.
He just held me there, letting me adjust to the size of him, his eyes tracking every flicker of sensation across my face.
"Sophia," he said, his voice rough with restraint. "Say you're mine."
I bit my lip, unable to form words.
"No?" He chuckled darkly, then started to move—slow, deliberate, devastating.
A broken sound escaped me. My fingers dug into his shoulders.
He filled me completely, hitting depths I didn't know existed.
The waves lapped against the hull, against us, rocking us in rhythm.
Under the moonlight, I watched his face—sharp, feral, beautiful—his eyes half-lidded with lust, sweat beading at his temples despite the cold water.
There was nothing else. Just him. Just us. Just this.
I didn't know how long we stayed like that, lost in each other, until I felt the tension coiling tight in my core, ready to shatter—
A deafening roar of helicopter blades shattered the night.
I went rigid.
The heat flooding my body turned to ice in an instant.
Arthur's reaction was faster.
The second the sound hit, his arms locked around me, spinning us so his body shielded mine against the hull.
His chest pressed hard against my back, a wall of muscle and heat between me and whatever was coming.
"Don't move," he said, his voice stripped of desire, cold and controlled.
A blinding spotlight slammed down from above.
The beam cut through the darkness like a blade, turning the black ocean into a stage lit in harsh white.
I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face in his shoulder.
The helicopter hovered directly overhead, rotors churning the water into chaos, waves slamming us against the yacht again and again.
"Sophia!"
A voice—amplified, cold, and sickeningly familiar—boomed from above.
Allen.
How the hell did he find us?
Shame and rage twisted inside me like twin knives, choking the breath from my lungs.
"Fuck," Arthur snarled.
I felt his arms tighten around me, his entire body vibrating with lethal fury.
He was a lion whose territory had been invaded. And I was the prize being threatened.
"Get up," he said, voice clipped and sharp. "Now."