A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 86 - 18+ - 85

Chapter 86: 18+Chapter 85

His thumb pressed into my clit, deliberate and unrelenting, as another finger eased its way inside. The extra combination of pressure sparked a sudden wave of heat so intense it felt like I’d been set alight. The tension that had coiled in me like a spring snapped, sending me plunging over the edge.

A ripple of flashing heat exploded through my body, white-hot and consuming, making my vision blur and the world narrow to nothing but him—his touch, his presence, the merciless way he pulled every ounce of pleasure from me. My heart pounded in my chest, as if trying to catch up with the molten blood rushing through my veins.

His fingers continued to move, slow and teasing, prolonging every pulse and tremor as I came down from the high. My body trembled under his hand, the slick sound of his movements making me flush with equal parts embarrassment and satisfaction. I panted, my chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, as a languid, warm calm spread through my limbs.

It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before—a sated, all-encompassing warmth that left me utterly spent, yet still tethered to him. My thighs felt weak, my skin too sensitive, but I still didn’t want him to stop touching me.

His mouth traced a path up my neck, lips brushing against my jaw as he exhaled softly. That intoxicating, masculine scent of his—something woodsy, dark, and altogether too addicting—hit me like a shot of dopamine straight to the brain.

"You did good." His voice was low, soft, but still laced with that ever-present restraint. He kissed the corner of my mouth, his lips lingering just long enough to make my breath hitch. "But sadly, I can’t do much more of this or I might end up fucking you hard, darling. And I can’t do that. Not when you’re still recovering."

His words pulled me back down to earth like a stone dropped into water. Oh.

I blinked up at him, my face burning. My body screamed for more, every nerve begging him to break his own damn rules, but I didn’t say it. I didn’t have to. His sharp, knowing gaze locked onto mine, and I knew—he saw it all. The frustration, the want lingering behind my eyes.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. A breath of amusement escaped him, mixed with a low sound of frustration. He shook his head faintly, as if chastising himself for even letting things get this far. "You are quite a troublemaker," he muttered under his breath.

Before I could say a word, he leaned in and kissed me—softly, lingering, his lips stealing whatever fight I might’ve worked up. When he pulled away, I chased his mouth instinctively, already craving more.

"Not now," he said, his voice more firm this time. He smoothed a hand down my bare thigh as if to calm me, then shifted me carefully off his lap.

I let out a small, involuntary noise of protest as I settled on the bed. Without his warmth, the air felt cool against my sweat-dampened skin. I watched him rise to his feet, his movements fluid and deliberate as he adjusted his garment. He looked as put-together as ever—sharp lines, dark fabric, not a hair out of place—while I felt like a mess, sprawled half naked on the bed with my body still buzzing from him.

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath that sounded heavier than he intended. "I’ll call for the maid to come wash you up."

I flinched at that, my brow furrowing. "I don’t need—"

"It’s not up for debate," he said simply, his tone final. He turned toward the door without looking back, and something in me bristled at the abruptness of it all.

Was that it?

I stared at his broad back as he walked to the door, my fingers curling into the soft fabric beneath me. He was leaving—just like that—after unraveling me so thoroughly I felt like I didn’t know up from down anymore.

"Wait." The word slipped out before I could stop it, barely more than a whisper.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze cutting back to me. There it was again—that smirk, cool and composed, as if none of this had affected him in the slightest. But I knew better. I’d felt it in the way he touched me, the way he pulled me apart with his hands and mouth like he’d been starving.

"You can’t—" My voice caught, and I swallowed hard. "You can’t just leave."

He tilted his head slightly, like he wasn’t sure he heard me right.

I sat up straighter, ignoring the way my body protested. "I can take... I can take it"

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he considered my words. For a long beat, he said nothing, and I thought maybe he’d just leave anyway. But then he let go of the door and turned fully back to me.

He stepped closer, and despite the fact I wasn’t completely naked, I felt exposed again under his gaze. "I know you can. That’s not the point. You are still recovering."

"I’m not that weak!" I challenged, lifting my chin slightly.

What the fuck is wrong with you Layla.

Why are you ask him to have sex with you!

I felt my cheek burn and quickly looked away.

He chuckled softly and he crouched down so he was level with me. The shift in his posture made my breath falter, because up close like this, the intensity of him was overwhelming.

His thumb brushed my cheek, the touch featherlight. "I’ll give you everything, darling. But not yet."

And just like that, he stood again, the moment shattered.

"I’ll leave you to it," he said, turning once more for the door.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left alone in the heavy silence, my thoughts swirling like a storm.

~

The knock at the door jolted me out of my thoughts. My body, still aching with a languid heaviness, tensed at the sound. It can’t be him. No. He wouldn’t—surely he wouldn’t come back so soon after leaving me like that. My throat tightened as the knock came again, this time a little louder.

"Come in," I said, voice cracking as I tried to sound composed.

The door creaked open, and the maid entered with a familiar quiet grace, but the moment her gaze landed on me, I wished the earth would swallow me whole. My body stiffened, my back pressing further into the headboard as I tried—and failed—not to look ashamed.

She gave a polite bow, but as she straightened, I could see the slightest hesitation in her eyes. Her nose twitched, as if she’d already caught it—me. The lingering scent of what had happened here only moments ago. Heat rose up my neck like a fire threatening to consume me.

"I’ve come to prepare your bath, my lady," she said softly, her tone practiced, neutral—yet there was something about the way her face flushed that made my shame ten times worse.

She knows.

I turned my face away, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek as if the pain would keep me grounded. This is his fault. My mind scrambled to blame him, but even as I thought it, I knew better. No one had forced me into that moment, into those touches that left me undone in ways I never imagined.

I chanced a glance at the maid, and that was my second mistake. Her cheeks were now tinged pink, her lips pressed tightly together to keep her expression neutral.

"I’ll have the bath ready as soon as possible," she said hurriedly, practically stumbling as she turned for the adjoining chamber where the bath was drawn.

If I thought I had been embarrassed before, I had been a fool. My mortification now felt alive—growing, clawing at my chest with each passing second.

My mind screamed at me. She can smell it. She knows. And she’ll think—

We didn’t even go all the way!

I buried my face in my hands, the heat of my palms offering no escape. This wasn’t the first time shame had wrapped its claws around me, but this? This was different.

I heard the soft splash of water from the other room as the maid filled the bath, and I risked another look toward the door. My shame flared tenfold when I thought of his majesty. His hands. His voice.

I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would somehow erase him from my mind.

The maid re-emerged after what felt like an eternity. "The bath is ready, my lady," she said, her voice even but her eyes still carefully averted.

I nodded stiffly, barely trusting myself to move. My legs swung off the side of the bed, and for a moment, I was grateful to find they still worked. The maid waited a moment longer before stepping aside, giving me room to pass into the adjoining chamber.

The bath was steaming, the faint scent of lavender mingling in the air. As I stepped toward the water, the maid cleared her throat softly. "Shall I assist you, my lady?"

I shook my head quickly, my voice sharper than I intended when I said, "No. Leave me."

The maid bowed again, this time retreating fully. The sound of the door closing behind her echoed louder than it should have. I released a shaky breath, my shoulders slumping.

Alone.

The word felt heavier than it should have.

After pulling down every layers of my clothes, I sank into the tub until it enveloped me completely. My muscles loosened, but my mind refused to let go of the tension coiling in my chest.

I tilted my head back against the rim of the tub, staring at the ceiling with a hollow sort of detachment. The water should have been soothing, but the memory of his hands, his voice, his intoxicating presence, lingered.

"Ugh." I groaned out loud, covering my face with wet hands.

Why did I let him affect me like this? Why did I let any of this happen?

And now, I wasn’t even sure I could face him again without dying of shame?