8. Between Secrets and Kisses

Loriah’s POV

When he came inside me, Draco’s lips claimed mine as though he had been waiting a lifetime. His body pressed into mine, hot and unrelenting, and yet his movements were careful, reverent. Every touch, every kiss, every breath felt like worship. My nerves trembled, but his whispers steadied me.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he breathed, his body taut with restraint. "Because I'm dying for round two. But if you feel too sore..."

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, tears slipping free but not of fear—of surrender.

His kiss swallowed my trembling confession, and then he entered me again, slow and patient, until the pain melted into something hotter, more profound, that made me arch into him, begging for more. My moans tangled with his groans, and soon the world disappeared, leaving only us and the storm we had unleashed together.

The night stretched endlessly. We tangled in the sheets, sweat-slick and breathless, only to find each other repeatedly. When exhaustion finally claimed me, I woke to his hands on me, his mouth worshipping me back to life. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, as if his hunger for me was unlimited.

And I didn’t want him to.

"I did not use protection, but don't worry. You won't get pregnant." He said as he pressed a kiss on my neck, the exact spot that he likes to suck and drag his teeth on.

"I'm on birth control," I replied. "Sister Nora took me and Brea to the clinic before we left the orphanage." He caressed my cheek and kissed me.

By Sunday night, I had lost count of how many times we had made love. My body was tender, my lips swollen, my voice nearly gone from moaning his name. But I had never felt more alive, desired, or utterly his.

"Draco, are you even human?" I said one evening, giggling as he dragged me back to the room.

"No, Little Nymph. I'm the big bad wolf." He said huskily as he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling glass window and thrust inside me hard. I bit my bottom lip as he pounded inside me incessantly until we both came, and I collapsed in his arms, my legs still around his waist.

Draco had turned off his phone, ignoring the outside world completely. “This weekend belongs to us,” he told me, pulling me back into his arms when I teased that he was acting like a caveman.

---

But after that weekend, something changed in Draco.

He became more possessive and protective, as though claiming I had awakened something dangerous inside him. He always wanted me with him, urging me to move in and insisting I stop working and focus on my studies.

“Let me take care of you,” he said one evening as he wrapped his arms around me, his lips brushing my hair. “You don’t need to exhaust yourself with odd jobs. I’ll provide everything.”

I pushed gently at his chest, lifting my chin stubbornly. “Draco, I’m not a kept woman. I need to stand on my own two feet. My independence matters to me.”

His jaw flexed, frustration flashing in his eyes. I thought he would argue for a moment, but then he kissed me hard, possessively, trying to remind me of who I belong to. And though my body melted against him, my resolve didn’t falter.

Still, I couldn’t deny that something about him was… suspicious.

For all his intensity with me, there were things I didn’t know. I never met his family or been told much about his past or where he worked. Whenever I asked, he gave me vague answers—just enough to satisfy in the moment, but never enough to silence the doubts gnawing at me.

Sometimes, he disappeared for long stretches, claiming he was buried in work.

“Wait for me at home,” he would text. “I’ll be there tonight.”

When he returned, he made up for his absence with overwhelming sweetness and passion, leaving me no room to breathe, let alone to question him. He loved me with a ferocity that drowned my anger, pulling me under until all that existed was us—his hands, mouth, and voice saying my name like a vow.

But the questions crept back when the morning came and I was alone again.

Where did he go? What is he hiding?

One weekend, when Draco was away again, Claire came over. She studied me with her sharp, no-nonsense eyes as I sulked on the couch, staring at my phone like it might conjure him back.

“You can’t just sit here waiting for him all the time, Loriah,” she said firmly. “It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not just waiting…” I muttered, though we both knew I was.

Claire grabbed my hand and tugged me up. “Come with me. Alessandro’s is hiring. Weekend shifts. You’ll make good tips. At least you’ll have something to do when he’s gone.”

I hesitated, torn between guilt and longing for independence. But the thought of not feeling useless while Draco disappeared again made me nod.

That weekend, I walked into Alessandro’s with Claire at my side, filled out an application, and got hired as a waitress. The manager, Mr. Peters, smiled at me, saying my energy was perfect for the job. Although he had this creepy look about him, I needed the job.

And as I left with the schedule in hand, I felt a flicker of pride I hadn’t felt in a long time. Even as Draco consumed me, I needed to prove I was still my own person.

That week, Draco had spoiled me endlessly. Dinners out, little gifts I never asked for, kisses that left me dizzy and clutching at him like I couldn’t get close enough.

But in the quiet moments, when his arms weren’t around me and his phone was out of reach, doubts whispered. He gave me so much of himself in passion and affection, yet there were walls he never let me through.

The first time I introduced him—by phone at least—to my best friend Brea, he laughed off her sharp tongue.

“So, Draco,” Brea’s voice had carried through the speaker, crisp and unrelenting. “What do you do for a living? Where’s your family from? Why do you disappear so much?

“Work keeps me busy,” Draco said smoothly, his tone calm but amused, like he was untouchable. “And as for family, I’d rather talk about your friend. She’s the one who matters to me.”

Brea had scoffed. “Dodging questions already."

I’d laughed nervously, half embarrassed, half reassured. He hadn’t been rude but hadn’t given her an inch.

Later, Brea texted me: Be careful. He’s hiding something.

I brushed it off. No matter how secretive Draco was, I could feel his love in every touch, every kiss. Surely, he’d tell me when he was ready.

And maybe that’s why I hadn’t felt too guilty about keeping my own little secret—my new job. If he was allowed his walls, then so was I.

---

By the time I’d been at Alessandro’s for a month, I was starting to feel like I belonged.

That night, the restaurant was bursting at the seams. Every table was packed, the hum of conversations blending with clinking glasses and the steady stream of orders shouted from the kitchen.

I was sweeping the floor, balancing a tray of empty glasses, when my gaze snagged on a profile that caught my breath in my throat.

Strong jaw. Dark hair that curled slightly at the ends. Shoulders I’d traced with my own hands, lips I’d kissed until my mouth was sore.

Draco.

Sitting at one of the most prominent tables, his posture commanding, the dim golden light caught in his eyes when he glanced at the woman beside him.

And my heart stopped.