Chapter Fifty-Five
The image of her hands on his shoulders stuck in my mind. I told myself that I could bear it, that I would stay there until the end of the night, but I wasn't indifferent enough to watch that scene. Anger welled up in me, filled with thorns, jealousy consumed me, and a certain melancholy accompanied it. That woman was twice my age, she was more experienced, she would be normal next to Mads, they wouldn't seem wrong, while everything would be strange and misinterpreted if it were me in her place.
I want to be that woman, with all the financial freedom, with the freedom to touch that man in public without being judged, without repressing myself for being a girl with such a strange tendency. I walk away from there, heading for the luxurious, empty room I may not have left. I lean against the elevator wall, feeling the alcohol in my mouth, the only taste that reminds me that I'm free. The taste makes me more sensitive to Mads' advances, I take a deep breath and despite everything I know, I know that he wanted to provoke me, that he wanted me to regret it. I wasn't sorry, but that didn't make me any less interested, any less thirsty for him. Being there made my body burn, my legs restless for his challenge, for the need to make him pay.
The elevator opened and I dragged myself across the floor with a euphoria that gradually died in frustration. The corridor was empty, there were two possibilities: either people were asleep or they were probably in that bar, enjoying the night. I huffed and puffed my way to a stop in front of the door. I bite my lip as I swipe the card to enter the room, which lights up as soon as I walk in. I stretch my slightly sore back and push myself inside, my fingers slowly pushing the door open. Everything between us worked like pure magnetism, and even at that moment: when I felt the door half open, the loud sound of his big palm slamming down and interrupting my action, even at that moment, we were between a violent magnetic field, pulling us in opposite directions. My body trembled, I felt the anxiety and fear of having him behind me, his slow steps as he entered the room, and the loud slam of the door as it closed.
"You're running away from me." His voice sounds hoarse against the skin of my neck, and I close my eyes, knowing there is a certain disapproval in his tone.
"You're asking for it..." I say, turning to him. I almost melt under his gaze, almost sin as I focus my eyes on his arms, the muscles marked under the fabric of his folded shirt drawing me to those features that constantly remind me that everything in him is bigger than me. "I thought it only fair to leave you to your company, I didn't want to get in the way." He laughs, but it is forced.
"How modest you are..." He says as if he knew the effect his words would have on my body as if he knew that coming from him, whether it was a compliment or not, could make me wobbly. I shudder as his voice drops lower than usual, teasing me and egging me on at the same time in a way that's mean enough to make me want to tell him to say it again. I dare to look into his eyes and find myself lost in the two gray spheres as if caught in his trap. I hate him because I know he is judging me with a poisonous, satisfied smile on his lips. "But you weren't humble at all when you rejected me this morning."
"I never would have been, not when you suggested that I date your son and share some intimacy with him during working hours." I spit out the words violently, knowing that the alcohol and my indignation were fueling my courage. "But if it makes you happy to know the details, I've had a taste..." Mads lifts his chin, his eyes fixed on me, but his face is suddenly tight, stern. He raises his hand between us, and I'm faced with a large, calloused palm.
"Don't go any further, you'll regret it later." His words sound sincere, even though there is a mysterious, mischievous glint in his irises.
"I won't regret it unless you force me to..." I say wildly, the anger turning into something more fierce and urgent. "Unless I have the right motivation to regret it." I bite my lower lip in self-reproach for saying that. Mads stares at me, trapped between me and the door, but it was I who felt hunted.
"You don't know what you're asking for, Dakota... you never did." His nostrils exhale deeply and I feel we're both on the edge of this abyss. And I've never wanted to jump so badly. "You still ask, even though you know you can't take it, even though it makes you a dirty girl." He spits out those words, but they don't have the effect they normally would my vulva between my thighs reacts outrageously.
"You like that. You like that I make you rethink what kind of man you are." I say, my chin held high as I look at him, my body moaning hastily, begging for a touch. Mads takes a deep breath and moans hoarsely as he slowly blinks. His irises are mine, looking down at me. He takes a step closer and I step back, challenging him.
"What kind of man do you think I am?" I remember Tony's words, I remember the feeling of insecurity that still overwhelmed me about Mads. I wasn't sure if I could give him this answer. I swallow dryly and he comes closer, taking advantage of my uncertainty. "What kind of man do you think you know?"
"Mads..." He approaches again and I'm forced to move away incoherently, my steps confused on the still unfamiliar floor. I bump into a nearby piece of furniture and feel the hard structure stop my movements. I bite my lip hard, feeling the madness between my legs, my pussy twitching wetly as I watch him panting, slowly approaching. The light from the lamp illuminates one part of his face, the other remains hidden and dark as he analyzes my body, face, and soul. He was reading me, and the knowledge made me aware of my vulnerability. It felt too good.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asks, his voice so close that I'm suddenly forced to lower my eyes to the ground. Mads studies me passively, breathing against the top of my head, dominant. I shake my head in response, but my sign is neither positive nor negative, I see him raise his hand to run his fingers through my hair, smoothing it gently, tracing his touch across my forehead, my cheek, his fingers tracing my lips as I close my eyes numb. I sigh and lean my head into his touch as a permission and an urgent request, my legs entwined between his and I feel the burning need to be close. Those fingers find my chin and make me look up at him, my chest throbs and the air rushes out of my mouth with a latent desire for him. Mads... I whisper his name in supplication and he shakes his head in unison with my eagerness. His face came within inches of mine, my skin burning from the closeness, from his hands now caressing my shoulders and bare arms. "I'll remind you, baby, what kind of man I am when I fuck you." His whisper melts me, it's curse that makes me sigh against his skin before I throw myself against him. My arms go around his neck and I kiss him, my lips glued to his. Our kiss is angry and thirsty, angry because it was unbelievable to have to admit that we had to give in every time.