THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance by Elena Monroe (ebook reader android .txt) 📕

“Don’t be so delectable then… besides, people need to know you’re a taken man now. I’m tired of it being a shock that you’re in love, shocked I enjoy your company, shocked I can’t stay mad at you...” My whole body pulsed, and I felt a heavy sensation of euphoria just being on display for him— never mind him toying with me.

I couldn’t stay mad.

I couldn’t blame him.

I couldn’t keep upholding this silence.

His hands smoothed up my legs even more, painfully slowly. “Was there a reason you came, or you just wanted to make me aware you’re wandering around LA without panties?”

His words were cruel, but his hands? The opposite.

Those hands were controlled, slow, and torturous but sweet enough to make me come on demand if he just kept going.

I wasn’t responding, the last thing I wanted was to think about why I ran here, to Bowen. “Khaos mentioned something happened. Maybe you want to elaborate,” his voice soothed me almost into telling him.

Khaos and Grace’s position for me to tell him the truth before he found out on his own lurked into the room with us, bullying me to say what I couldn’t. Noticing the brown familiar liquor on the desk next to me that I almost knocked over, I could spot his easiness powered by being intoxicated. He was almost never completely sober and yet still hard to read.

I decided to dip my two fingers in the liquid; drenching them with the only thing he filled himself with, Hennessy.

Opening my legs more, I could see his gaze drifting downward, taking in what is his now, before I pressed back into my palm. Carefully pulling my fingers from his glass, I ran them down my wet pussy only making matters much worse.

Carefully slow, the same way he toyed with me.

“Now I’m covered in Hennessy… No sense in wasting your favorite indulgence.” Biting my lip, I waited for him to react.

His grasp on my thighs only got tighter, fingers clenching into my poreless skin on the backs of my thighs, holding my legs open as his eyes unapologetically didn’t leave my pussy. It instantly made me blush.

The same kind of blush that flamed up my cheeks when we were younger and I would catch how turned on I would make him.

Back then it started as a happy accident, not understanding how I would affect him by just being myself. My body went from a curveless board to filling out while his hormones raged just as wild and we both stumbled through new urges.

We still slept in his bed, cuddled up the way we always did, in close proximity to a line that would force us into something more than friendship. Every night for months I pretended to be asleep while he relieved himself, and every day since I begged myself to be brave enough to risk our friendship. Until I was ripped from LA before I had the chance.

His tight grasp yanked my hand in his direction along with my attention when his mouth closed around my fingers to suck every drop of Henny off them that was mixed with my own wetness.

His tongue flattened against my fingers, and I felt the air trap in my chest. He was only making my ache worse by giving me an inch when I wanted a mile.

“I know what I do to you. Are you going to pretend you aren’t hard and find relief without me? We aren’t kids anymore, Bowey.”

I could feel my bundle of nerves pulse harder and the wetness trying to convince my thighs back together to ease the warming sensation between them.

Kissing the pads of my fingers, his eyes got a murky kind of gray that looked like a storm was headed my direction when he stood up, his closed fist pushing into the desk as his body leaned into mine. “And what do you think you do to me, Evey?”

My nickname rolled off his tongue and slipped right down my body like a hot caress.

Another inch but no miles.

He wanted to push me into a corner and force me to crawl my way out when he already broke all the parts of me that sat pretty while he tortured me. I was caged, and he set me free.

Now I was free to wreak havoc on his life, starting with showing him my bark to match my love bites.

Letting my hand squeeze into the small space between our bodies, I let the palm of my hand slip down to how hard he was. Palming every inch, I breathlessly whimpered, “For starters? This.”

A low groan echoed against me when his head dipped, and I felt his forehead rest on my shoulder. “You’re inexorable, Evey. You deserve better than me.”

His words were cruel but his heart? The opposite.

Trying to reach his pants, I unbuttoned them and let my hand dip inside, my hand exploring how turned on he is without the jeans in the way. I was out of breath just trying to fit my way into his pants when his fingers danced up my chest putting a firm grasp on my throat.

It was his kind of warning; scaring people is easier than letting them see how weak we all are when it comes to our demons and sins fornicating.

“Eve…” It sounded like a question with no more syllables coming when I pushed the band down on his underwear, letting his length fall out between us.

Taking the glass in my hand, I pushed it to my lips before sitting further up, tilting my head back, purposely letting it cascade down my chin, neck, down into my shirt. I was starved, famished for him, and it felt like dying but never making it to the grave.

The glass barely made it