Chapter 35 Caught Staring
LEITANA
“Ravial… where we go?” I asked, peeking out the window, then back at him.
But my eyes betrayed me. They slid straight to his hands on the steering wheel.
I had never seen him drive before. Not once since they dragged me to America and put that ring on my finger. And now… Lord have mercy. Those forearms, thick, veiny, corded with muscle, flexing every time he turned the wheel. The sleeves of his black shirt rolled high, showing every ridge and valley of power. I couldn’t look away. It was wrong, shameless, but my eyes refused to behave.
Those same big hands… the ones that had circled my waist from behind, wiped tears from my cheeks, brushed my lips, and, sweet Jesus, touched my other lips, down there, between my thighs. That place was doing it again, jumping, fluttering, like it had its own little heart beating only for him.
“…Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he said, voice low and amused, snapping me out of my staring. I blinked and looked up at his blindfolded face.
How was he even driving like that?
I didn’t know. But it only confirmed what I’d been suspecting, he could see perfectly fine. So why the blindfold? The curiosity bit at me like a mosquito, but I held it back. No questions. Not yet.
But the other thing he said made me pause.
Take a picture?
Did he want me to actually take a picture of him?
I glanced at the shiny new phone on my lap, the one he’d pushed across the breakfast table only hours ago. My chest warmed. He had given me a whole phone. My very own. But then my heart thumped hard in worry, what if I dropped it? What if it broke? He would be upset. It was a gift.
“Take, now it’s yours. Use it to call me, or anyone else.”
“But especially me,” he’d grumbled. “I’m the most important person in your life now, so really only me.”
I hadn’t heard half of it. I was too busy crying happy tears over my very first smartphone. My heart had been beating so fast, I thought everyone in the room could hear it. I had always dreamed of having a button phone like Calypso, the girl whose parents lived near the orphanage. Her uncle bought her a phone and she would show it off everywhere. Me , Marita and the other girls used to fawn over it, and she charged us 5 vuv each just to touch it for two minutes.
I wanted one so badly. And when I came here and saw everyone with fancy phones I’d only seen in books… I never imagined I’d have one myself.
So when he handed me this one, tears filled my eyes instantly.
“Why are you crying? You don’t like it?” he asked, eyebrows rising. His whole posture went stiff. But I only looked at the phone through blurry eyes, stood up, and hugged him. He immediately pulled back and stared at my face, just as the dam inside me burst open.
I smiled at the memory, then looked up and caught him watching me with one brow raised, almost puzzled.
“Yu wan me tek picture of yu?” I asked, hopeful.
He snorted, soft. “Of course you wouldn’t get it.”
“Plis, tell mi what it mean?”
He laughed, warm and deep, the sound filling the whole car.
“It means, little lamb,” he said, voice
Soft and teasing, “that when someone stares as shamelessly as you just did, we tell them to take a picture. That way they can keep staring without getting caught.”
My mouth made a small “o”. Heat rushed to my face so fast I felt dizzy.
“So… mi staring too much?” I whispered, wishing the seat would open and swallow me.
He reached over, flicked the tip of my nose gently, then let his thumb rest against the corner of my mouth, tracing slow, lazy circles.
“Stare all you want,” he murmured. “I like being the thing you can’t stop looking at.”
My heart flipped. His thumb pressed a little harder, almost slipping between my lips. I tasted him, salt and heat, and that place between my legs jumped again, stronger this time.
He pulled his hand back to steer, but the ghost of his touch stayed. I bit my lip. The ache got worse. My thighs pressed together on their own. My eyes fluttered shut.
Then warm fingers grazed my ear. I shivered hard, eyes snapping open.
He wasn’t looking at the road anymore. Just at me.
“What’s wrong, little lamb?” he asked, voice husky, thumb still stroking my ear like it was something precious.
I couldn’t hold it in.
“Mi… mi private place aching,” I blurted, voice tiny. “It… it jumping, Ravial. Like it got him own heart beating. Ever since yu touch mi lip, it won’t stop.”
The car slowed.
His hand on my ear froze. His other hand tightened on the wheel until his knuckles went white.
He swallowed, once, hard, the sound loud in the sudden silence.
The air turned thick, sweet, and heavy.
Very slowly, he pulled the car to a stop at the side of the road . Engine off.
He turned to me fully, both hands rising to cup my burning cheeks.
“Say it one more time,” he ordered, voice rough as gravel.
A growl rumbled deep in his chest. The kind that used to scare me. Now it only made the ache worse.
I was shaking. “Mi private place… it jumping so hot and jumping… for yu.”
A low groan left his throat.
Then his mouth crashed into mine, hungry, reverent, claiming. One big hand slid down my throat, over my racing heart, and settled high on my bare thigh, pushing my dress up inch by inch.
I whimpered into the kiss.
His hand kept moving, down my throat, over my collarbone, stopping just above the neckline of my dress. Not pushing further. Just resting there, heavy, claiming, letting me feel the heat of his palm through the thin cotton.
“How bad does it ache, little lamb?” he asked, fingers flexing against my skin.
I squirmed in the seat, thighs pressing together. The movement only made it throb harder. “Bad,” I breathed. “Like… like it need something. Like it need yu.”
The car swerved gently, pulled onto the side of the road. He killed the engine
He turned fully toward me. Both hands came up this time, cupping my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks like I was made of glass and fire at the same time.
“Then let me fix it,” he said against my lips, not a question.
Before I could breathe, his mouth was on mine, slow, filthy, perfect. Tongue sliding in, tasting me, owning me. One hand dropped to my thigh, pushing the hem of my dress higher, higher, until cool air kissed my skin and his palm burned against the inside of my knee.
I whimpered into his mouth.
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips brushing mine with every word.
“Open for me, Leitana.”
My legs fell apart on their own.
His hand slid up, slowly, until his fingers brushed the damp cotton between my thighs. I jerked like I’d been shocked. He groaned, low and husky, forehead dropping to mine.
“Christ, you’re soaked,” he rasped. “All this just from looking at my hands?”
I nodded, unable to form words.
He pressed one thick finger against me, right over the ache, rubbing in a slow circle that made my hips roll shamelessly.
“This what you need?” he whispered, voice shaking with restraint.
“More,” I begged, voice cracking. “Please, Ravial… more.”
He cursed under his breath, something filthy, and pushed the fabric aside. One finger slid inside me, easy, perfect, stretching. My back arched. A cry spilled out before I could stop it.
He added a second finger, curling them, stroking that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. His thumb found the little bundle of nerves and circled, steady, merciless.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
I forced my eyes open. Even through the blindfold I felt his stare, wild, starving, tender.
“You’re mine,” he said, voice raw. “This pretty little ache? Mine to fix. Mine to worship. Every day of the five months, every day after, I’m going to take care of you like this. Understand?”
I was already falling apart, thighs shaking, breath hitching.
“Yes, yes, Ravial…”
He kissed me through it, swallowing every cry as I came undone on his fingers, pulsing around him, tears slipping down my cheeks from how good it felt.
When the tremors finally stopped, he didn’t pull away. He kept his fingers inside me, gentle now, like he couldn’t bear to leave.
He pressed his lips to my temple, breathing hard.
“Better?” he asked, soft.
I nodded, boneless, clinging to his shoulders.
He smiled against my skin, small and wicked and u
nbearably tender.
“Good. Because we still have an hour before we get there, little lamb… and I’m nowhere near done taking care of that ache tonight.”