THE BILLIONAIRE'S CRYBABY
Chapter 62: THE BEGINNING OF A STORM

Chapter 62: THE BEGINNING OF A STORM

Ace was going to carry Fay into her room, but subconsciously ended up in his room. As he laid her on his bed, he wiped the single tear that rolled down her face.

"Hey," he called.

She opened her eyes that were shut tight, and just stared at him. He was a beautiful man. She could never get tired of whispering that fact, albeit, deep in her heart.

His eyes were so blue, and so warm.When he was relaxed, they looked so clear. But when pissed, they darkened.

It fascinated her. Staring at him like this, intrigued her. A painting brought to life by the finest brush. Probably a golden one.

Yet, when she opened her mouth to speak, the first words that came out were not about his looks. "My Aunt isn’t really going to be arrested, is she?" She asked in a barely audible voice.

He sighed when her words drifted into his ears. He could never understand sentimental attachments to family members who proved disruptive.

Personally, if he had a bottle of water and Aunt Celine was on fire, he would rather bin the bottle than move an inch to save her.

But he had to remember not everyone was as vengeful as he was. Someone like Fay was too good.

"She might be fined a little, and then released."

His thumb reached for her forehead, and began to stroke it.

Her scent was fading, but it still blessed his nose with its wonderful fragrance. He wanted to lean in and sniff her, but didn’t want to scare her more than she already was.

"Do you believe everything she said about me?" She asked.

He scoffed. "Your aunt is a replica of mine. Two vultures that would believe their own delusions to further a vendetta. I would take anything they say with a grain of salt. Besides, I wasn’t really listening to her."

"Why?"

He couldn’t answer that question without getting into trouble. Already one movement away from pressing his thumb on her lips, and then replacing it with his lips, he knew he had to disengage.

"Do I need to call the doctor?" He switched the conversation as he pulled his thumb off her head.

A bitter douse of saliva gathered in her mouth, and she swallowed. His thumb had been really soothing. Even helped numb the headache she felt.

He didn’t have to let go. However, it was wise that he did. Her traitorous body was already responding to his touch.

His kiss had successfully messed up her head. Now all she wanted was more. More of him. More of his lips on hers. Moving, learning secrets, routes, curves, and memories.

She wanted him, and her heart recognized it was the first sign of a lifelong trouble.

"Hey? Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," she said weakly, turning her face to the side.

The scent of his sheets enveloped her nose. It fully registered in her head that she was in his room.

The darkness, despite how scorching the sun outside was, should have told her.

His blinds were always drawn. Little to no room for even the faintest ray of light to go through.

"Have you eaten?" He asked, breaking through her senses, and calling her attention.

"No," she said without turning to face him.

"Alright. I’ll go get something for you to eat."

He rose to his full height, and she felt like reaching out to him and pulling him back to the bed.

She suddenly felt empty, and it bothered her. She had always felt empty. It was the one feeling she had come to accept would never change, so why did it bother her?

Everything felt wrong. The clamminess of her palm attested to that fact. Why was she so self aware in his presence?

The door closed, jolting her out of her head. She turned, so the back of her head rested on the pillow, and her face raised to the ceiling.

It was supposed to be a good day. From the garden, preparing her perfume, back to her room to properly check out the clothes she shopped for.

Unfortunately, it was ruined by her aunt’s presence. The one thing she was good at doing. As long as her Aunt lived, as long as they both lived, she could never be happy.

She was still in her head when the door opened again. Fay’s eyes shot forward, expecting to see Marilyn, or Alice.

However, Ace came forward with a tray in his hands.

He was halfway to the bed when his eyes fell on her legs.

Her gown had rolled past her knees. It was just knees, but somehow, it made him hot.

His reaction irritated him. He wasn’t a highschool boy anymore. He had met more women than certain kings of the older days could ever boast of, yet he was getting hot over some freaking knees?

"Here," he said, pulling out a stool, and placing the tray on it. "Alice said to make sure you finish every drop. She made homemade juice too." He raised the bottle up.

He thought he was going to have to cajole her to eat, but to his surprise, she jerked, and pushed herself to the edge of the bed.

"Chicken!" Her eyes lit up and she clapped as she saw the chicken waffles on her plate.

With squinted eyes, he observed her. She was just looking miserable. Like someone who would never find joy in the world again.

He was amazed at the sudden switch. From that, to–

His eyes blinked multiple times. She had shoved the entire waffle into her mouth.

For someone with such a small frame, she sure could eat.

"Do you want some?" She asked with a mouthful, and sparkling eyes.

"Nope. Go ahead." He urged with a nudge of her head.

Despite the food puffing up both cheeks, she smiled happily.

He felt a stir in his heart as he watched her eat. For a brief moment, he was transported to a very long time ago.

A time he wasn’t aware of his aunt’s intention towards his father. They would gather on the same table and eat heartily.

His mum especially. Gabrielle Atticus ate like food was an art that should be devoured.

It helped that her husband, his father could cook a storm.

After he died, he never got that side of his mother again.

As he watched Fay now, he saw that woman who he missed.

"Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?"

There was food stuck at the corner of her lips. He was fixated on it, as much as he was fixated on fixing things that were not in its right place.

Reflexively, his legs moved forward until he was in front of her. He crouched a little so he was leveled.

Innocent eyes widened and raised, staring at him with curiosity etched in them.

His hands moved forward, and he wiped off the crumbs. He brought his fingers to his mouth, and sucked on it.

Fay’s already widened eyes bulged.

"Keep eating," he said in a hoarse voice.

Her trembling hands grabbed her fork, and picked another piece. She was totally under his control. Completely hung up on everything that made him, him.

Slowly, she brought the fork to her mouth, but her eyes were still stuck on him.

She opened her mouth, ready to shove it in, when she felt the rippling of his Adams apple. He swallowed, and the fork slipped out of her hand.

"Ac–" he kissed her before she could complete her words.

Completely helpless against the desire that swept through every inch of her body, her hands went around his neck, and she kissed him back.

He had never experienced anything of this magnitude in his entire life. Despite his well documented experiences, they all cheapened in comparison to the luxuriousness that was Fay’s lips.

They held secrets that could only be learnt by a good sucking. And that he did with great pleasure.

A gasp escaped her throat, making her lips part. His tongue slipped in, and found her own tongue.

He kissed her tongue until she hissed like a snake.

When he finally let go, their heavy breaths filled the room.

"You should eat now," he said, and rose to his feet.

It felt like a dream. A dream she never wanted to wake up from. As she touched her lips, the warmth of his mouth still evident on it, she knew it was real.

He didn’t stop, not even to look at her. Walking out of the room, the sound of the door shutting was the only thing that jolted her out of her reverie.

"Oh God," slipped out of her mouth, as she grabbed her thumping heart.

The consequences of his random kisses were beginning to register in her head.

Everything he was possibly going to accomplish would be to her detriment.

"Oh God," she whispered again, praying for strength to resist him.

But when the voices of her innate thoughts sprung up, she realized she was just as delusional as her Aunt. If not even more.