Chapter 124: AFTERGLOW AND INTERRUPTIONS

CHAPTER 124. AFTERGLOW AND INTERRUPTIONS

Moments later, she lay in her room, sprawled across her bed with the covers yanked up almost to her chin, her breathing still uneven. Her legs trembled uncontrollably beneath the sheets, refusing to settle, and an intense pulsing throb lingered between her thighs—raw proof of everything that had happened only moments ago. Her heart drummed inside her chest, rattling her ribs, as though her body still demanded to relive what had just taken place.

Her eyes remained wide and fixed on the ceiling, the world around her blurring into a hazy white as her thoughts spiraled. Her teeth ground together as she shook her head slowly, disbelief settling over her like a second skin.

Oh my God…

She panted that sentence silently over and over, like a secret prayer or confession she didn’t know how to voice.

We did it…

The words echoed inside her skull, and she whispered them aloud, stunned.

“We… we did it,” she muttered, breathless. “We had sex… and I—” she pressed her palm over her mouth, choking on giggles she couldn’t hold back, “—I fucking loved it.”

A wicked laugh escaped her, unrestrained, followed by childish giggles she could not stop once they started. It was ridiculous. It was unbelievable. It was absolutely, devastatingly real. She had truly done it—she and Dominic. Not in a daydream. Not in a fantasy she scribbled into her diary. It actually happened, on her bed, under her hands, against her skin. And it had been—God—so overwhelming she felt as if her mind might burst into a thousand glittering pieces.

But then, gradually, the laughter faded, replaced by a deep frown that tugged at her lips while she continued staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“Oh my God…” she whispered again, but this time it came out as a trembling confession.

“That’s the most overwhelming thing I have ever felt.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regulate her breath, but the memory rushed in vivid fragments—his hands on her hips, his breath on her throat, his voice low and rough telling her to relax, telling her to trust him. She felt as if every nerve in her body had been rewired, as if something fundamental had shifted inside her. No matter how she tried to push it away, replay after replay surged through her mind.

The thrill of it—of him—was still flooding her veins, making her blood hum like electricity under her skin. It felt impossible, unreal. A delicious secret she wanted to drown in. If she had been asked to describe the sensation, she would have failed—there were no words powerful enough.

She truly felt as though she were losing her goddamn mind.

“What the hell…” she whispered to herself, shaking her head and letting a startled grin tug at her lips.

What the hell just happened to me?

She could still feel him—every motion, every press, every moment they shared. His voice still echoed faintly in her head. Her body still responded to the memory, heat swirling low and deep, refusing to settle. She squeezed her thighs together beneath the blanket, trying to still the sensation.

She exhaled slowly, running her fingers across her lips and then down her flushed neck.

I wonder what Dominic is going to think about this…

The thought came uninvited.

I mean… he can’t deny that he enjoyed it.

A faint blush crept across her cheeks. She sat there for a few seconds, staring blankly before turning her head toward the clock resting at the side of her bed. Her eyes widened.

It was exactly six in the evening.

Dad would be home soon—any minute now.

Panic shot through her nerves.

She sat up abruptly, pushing the blanket off her lower body before gripping it again from instinct, covering herself even though she was alone. Her room suddenly felt too small, too bright, too exposed.

She needed to calm down. She needed to breathe.

More importantly—she needed to make sure nothing in this house gave away what had happened.

She forced herself to lie back again for a moment and drew in a slow breath, trying to steady the wild pace of her heart. Her mind was chaos—half thrill, half panic. Every detail of the afternoon played on repeat behind her eyelids as though she were addicted to reliving it.

Focus, Aria. Focus.

But her body refused to forget. Her pulse beat in her throat. Her skin felt electric. The thrill refused to leave her system, still flooding through her limbs like sunlight she couldn’t run from.

That was when she heard it—sharp snapping fingers echoing faintly from somewhere beyond her door. A cold ripple of confusion spread through her as footsteps followed, swift and purposeful. Then she heard someone issuing commands—crisp, irritated, unfamiliar.

Her brows pulled together.

“What the hell is going on?” she whispered.

The only explanation that made sense came to mind.

Is Dad already back? Did he return earlier than usual?

Her stomach dropped.

She threw the covers aside, trembling slightly as she stood, adjusting her clothing in haste and smoothing her hair with frantic fingers. Adrenaline surged as she rushed toward her bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. Her body felt foreign—light, raw, vulnerable.

She moved down the stairs with cautious steps, keeping her breathing even. Her eyes scanned the living room, and then she froze mid-step.

There—standing in the foyer—was a familiar face.

Her friend who hadn’t visited in a long while.

Sophia.

Sophia stood with her hands planted aggressively on her hips, her expression sharp as she glanced around the living room like she owned the place. She muttered under her breath, clearly displeased with something, her tone cutting.

Aria’s confusion deepened.

Okay… that’s weird.

Sophia hadn’t texted or called to say she was coming over. She just… showed up? And from the attitude, she seemed to believe she had every right to do as she pleased.

Aria narrowed her eyes slightly.

Who the hell gave her the authority to just walk in and start acting like she lived here?

Yes, they were friends, but that never meant Sophia could stomp in unannounced and begin ordering staff around.

Sophia heard her approaching; she turned slowly, and her expression shifted immediately. That bright, polished smile spread across her face, revealing those white, perfectly aligned teeth. It was charming—beautiful—and yet there was something sly beneath it, an expression that suggested she had arrived with purpose.

“Well, hello, Aria,” Sophia said, drawing out the greeting. “It’s been such a long time.”

Her voice held a hint of accusation dashed with sugar.

“I’ve been so busy—family business and all that.” She flicked her hair back with casual elegance. “And you never once called to ask how I was doing.”

Aria parted her lips to respond, but Sophia continued before she could speak.

“Let me guess… I shouldn’t blame you, right? Maybe your mind was occupied… with your father’s bodyguard, hm?”

The instant those words left Sophia’s lips, Aria’s eyes widened before she quickly forced her features still. Her face burned, but she swallowed it down, maintaining a neutral expression as she scoffed.

Her voice came steadier than she felt.

“Oh my God,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “You are the most delusional human being I have ever encountered, Sophia. What the hell makes you think that?”

Sophia raised one brow mischievously, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Aria simply walked the remaining steps forward and opened her arms, as though inviting a normal, friendly embrace.

Sophia hesitated for just a second—eyes narrowing slightly—before stepping forward, complying, and hugging her. Aria wrapped her arms around her tightly, the contact grounding her just enough to breathe.

“We’re friends, after all,” Sophia said lightly as she pulled back.

Aria smiled at her—small, controlled.

“Yeah… we are.”

She tilted her head slightly and studied her. “Anyway—what’s wrong? I heard a shout. It startled me. Did someone offend you?”

Sophia huffed dramatically and turned toward the kitchen, chin lifted.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Her voice dripped irritation, and her gaze followed the maid who moved quietly into the kitchen.

“I asked for a cup of water,” Sophia explained, “and she brought it to me without a pitcher. Just the cup.” She widened her eyes in feigned disbelief. “I mean—who does that? She was supposed to bring it with a tray as a sign of respect for a guest.”

Aria rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.

Of course.

This—this right here—was exactly who Sophia was. The type of person who demanded unnecessary authority in every situation, even when it made little sense. She always expected people to adjust to her expectations the moment she appeared, simply because she existed.

Was it frustrating? Absolutely.

Surprising? Not at all.

Aria sighed softly and lifted her hands in surrender.

“Hey, bestie—calm down,” she murmured. “Relax, okay?” She offered a reassuring smile. “You don’t need to scare the poor maid. They’ve been working all day. It’s been hectic, and they might have been distracted. You’ve got to take it easy on them.”

Sophia opened her mouth to argue, her brows pulling together, but before she could utter a word, the front doors swung open.

The sound echoed sharply through the foyer.

Both girls turned at the same time.

Her father—Vincenzo—stepped inside, tall and composed in that effortless, powerful way only he could command. His expression was unreadable as he crossed the threshold, his coat folded neatly over one arm. And behind him, moving casually but carefully, was Dominic.

Time stopped.

Aria felt panic snap instantly through her body like a bolt of lightning. Every breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she forgot how to swallow.

Her heart thrashed violently beneath her ribs. She couldn’t understand the sudden whirlwind tearing through her—why her emotions felt so tangled, so heightened, so dangerously close to exploding.

One part of her still throbbed with a forbidden thrill, humming with memory—his hands, his voice, his body against hers. The other part—all sharp edges and fear—stared at her father walking in mere steps behind the man she had just given herself to.

The room felt suddenly too bright, too loud, too exposed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with trembling fingers and forced a nervous chuckle.

She scratched her palm against her neck, instinctively soothing the tension she couldn’t release.

“Hey, Dad,” she said, voice light, too casual. “You came back from work.”

Her father nodded once in acknowledgement, his expression calm as he handed his coat off to a passing maid.

Dominic, however, kept his eyes low—avoiding her gaze completely.

She noticed immediately.

He didn’t look at her. Not once. Not even when he stepped farther into the room. He kept his expression stone-still, his footsteps measured. And it unsettled her more than she expected.

Why is he avoiding me?

Confusion tangled tightly inside her chest.

Is it because of my father? Is he afraid someone might notice something?

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was simply being careful. Or maybe… maybe he regretted it?

The thought struck her sharply, and she swallowed hard.

Still, beneath all that panic and confusion, something hotter—needier—stirred inside her. A selfish, hungry desire that refused to die. She wanted more. Not later. Not someday. She wanted more tonight. She could still feel him everywhere—his hands, his mouth, his breath against her neck.

Perhaps… when everything settled, when her father and Sophia were out of the way, she could slip away into the night again. She would take advantage of what had happened, of the way he had taken her first time so deeply she still felt split open by it.

He would not resist her anymore.

He wouldn’t be able to.

Because—God help her—she wanted him again.

And again.

And again.

A craving she couldn’t name whispered through her blood.

For some strange reason… she could no longer deny it.

She wanted more.

And she would have it.