99. HARD TO LET GO

99. HARD TO LET GO
Arianna

The anticipation buzzed beneath my skin, a nervous hum against the excitement of a girls’ night out.

It wasn’t often Nicole and I managed to carve out time solely for ourselves, away from the demands of work and the general chaos of life.

Tonight was sacred, marked in our calendars a week in advance, a promised escape to our favorite haunts, a ritual of sorts.

I stood in front of my mirror, the dim light casting shadows that danced around the edges of my reflection.

A shadow of a smile played on my lips as I traced the lines of the dark eyeliner that winged out, echoing the wildness I usually kept carefully leashed.

Tonight, however, it was almost as if that darkness was set to be unleashed. Vincent had a way of igniting flames I hadn’t dared to stoke since our lives intertwined.

He wanted me to be wild; he wanted to control that wildness as much as he craved it.

I chose a simple black dress, soft and stretchy, clinging to my curves in all the right places while giving me the assurance of comfort and discretion.

It was crucial tonight—comfort was my shield against the swirling chaos that often surrounded us. Or so I kept telling myself.

From the corner of the room, he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his presence both a comfort and a challenge.

Vincent exuded an intensity that could melt steel, and the way he regarded me was both possessive and fervent.

He wore his usual stalker attire: unforgiving black pants, a fitted black dress shirt accentuated with leather straps and holsters that hinted at his capacity for violence.

His v-neck left a tantalizing view of tattoos just above the collarbone, the ink hinting at stories best left unspoken.

A lollipop, bright red and innocently comical, hung from his lips. It seemed a ridiculous substitute for the cigarettes he had given up in my presence.

In stressful moments, he now leaned on these sugary distractions, and tonight, the image of him lost in thought with that cherry treat almost brought a giggle bubbling to the surface.

The contrast between his dark intentions and the playful sweetness created a tension that twisted my insides.

His jaw tightened, a cruel mask of jealousy hardening his features as those piercing eyes, akin to red sand in a desert storm, scanned over my body.

Every inch under examination, every contour relayed a message that said I was his, that I could be his prey or his obsession.

“How do I look?” I asked innocently, feigning tranquility as I took a step closer, my heels clicking softly against the wood floor.

Vincent shifted, the rigidity in his posture easing slightly as he extracted the lollipop from between his lips.

My heart quickened under his scrutiny as his eyes flickered with anger and possessiveness.

“You really love to make me jealous,” he growled, a blend of irritation and amusement in his tone.

I smirked, fully aware of the power I wielded. “But you’ll still be watching me. Isn’t that enough?”

“No,” he spat the word, a rough growl that resonated through the space between us.

The air thickened as I closed the distance between us, stealing the lollipop from his hand and letting the sugary taste mingle with the earthy notes of his essence.

I savored the moment, my lips glossy and demanding as I teased him with my boldness.

His gaze darkened further, hooded and smoldering, every muscle in his body coiled with a blend of desire and frustration.

“Mm, really? What do you need to make you not jealous?” I probed, leaning into the heat radiating from him.

In an instant, he yanked me by my hair, a primal action that ignited my senses, locking me in place against him.

My breath hitched as his lips hovered a mere heartbeat away from mine.

“For starters, stay home,” he hissed, the warmth of his breath mingling with danger as he wrapped a hand around my throat, fingers digging into the leather of my choker.

“And?” I melted against him, reveling in our dangerous play.

“Then I will tie you to the bed, so you can’t leave. I’ll fuck you all night in every inch of your holes to remind you that you’re mine, but alas, I have to share you with strangers tonight,” he clicked his tongue, frustration rippling through his voice.

I couldn’t help but giggle like a lovesick fool. “Then you better not allow them to touch me, and if that doesn’t satisfy you, don’t allow them to watch me either.”

“You love to torture me, don’t you, baby?” He laughed, a dark amusement resonating in his tone.

I shook my head playfully, leaning in to lick his lips, savoring the taste of sweetness that passed between us.

“You love me,” I said, a soft whisper of truth that hung heavily in the air.

The shift in his demeanor was instantaneous; his eyes dropped, and he pulled me into a deeper kiss—one so sensual and slow that it almost sent me spiraling into breathlessness.

I tasted the connection of our desires, the bittersweet ache of longing melding with possessiveness as he took over every sense.

As he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in shared contemplation.

That look in his eyes was primal and feral, sending tremors down my spine as he dragged a thumb across my cheek.

“You look like a doll. So stunning and beautiful that I will carve out every single eyeball if someone dares to look at my wife the wrong way,” he warned, the threat wrapped in a guttural growl.

I shook my head, familiar with his violent tendencies, knowing all too well that underneath the surface, he meant every word.

“You will not. You will follow us and watch from afar, ensuring I have a good time without any problems, got it?”

His teeth ground together as he sighed in resignation, leaning back to give my forehead a gentle kiss.

“Anything you want, darling,” he murmured, his voice dark and laced with pure intent.