Chapter 4: Wildest Fantasy

Aria's POV

Brandon stormed out, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the glass walls. The echo hadn’t even faded before the silence rushed back in.

I chuckled lightly, feeling better that my plan had just began.

Ethan’s arm was still locked around my waist, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles just above the curve of my hip. His storm-gray eyes searched mine, dark with heat and something dangerously close to amusement.

“Girlfriend,” he murmured, tasting the word like it was new on his tongue. “You play a bold game, Aria Sinclair.”

I didn’t answer with words. I rose on my toes and crushed my mouth to his.

The kiss was soft. It was tender, it felt like something Brandon could ever do.

But It was also every ounce of rage and hurt and hunger I’d swallowed for years, poured straight into him. I kissed him the way I’d watched Brandon kiss Amelia that day on the sofa—hungry, possessive, like I was claiming something that should have always been mine.

Ethan didn’t hesitate.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he took control, lips parting mine, tongue sliding in deep and demanding.

His hands gripped my hips, lifting me effortlessly until my legs wrapped around his waist on pure instinct. The hard line of him pressed against me through his trousers, and a sharp bolt of need shot straight to my core.

He carried me backward three steps and set me on the edge of his desk, papers scattering to the floor. My skirt rode up as he stepped between my thighs, pushing them wider.

“Tell me to stop,” he said against my mouth, voice rough, “and I will.”

I answered by dragging his tie loose and yanking his shirt open, buttons pinging softly against the wood.

He smiled..dark, wicked..and dipped his head to my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. His hands slid up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts through the thin silk of my blouse. When he unbuttoned it slowly, deliberately, cool air hit my skin and my breath hitched.

I arched into him, fingers threading through his dark hair, holding him there. Pleasure sparked everywhere he touched, drowning out every memory of cold beds and empty promises.

His hand slipped under my skirt, tracing the edge of my panties before pushing them aside. One thick finger slid through my wetness, then inside me ,curling just right.

“Fuck,” I gasped, head falling back.

He added a second finger, stretching me, .

“Look at me,” he ordered, voice low and commanding.

I forced my eyes open. His gaze was locked on my face, watching every flicker of pleasure he pulled from me.

Heat coiled tighter and tighter in my belly. My hips rocked against his hand, shameless, desperate.

“That’s it,” he murmured, lips brushing my ear. “Let go for me, good girl.”

The words shattered me.

I came hard, pulsing around his fingers, a broken moan tearing from my throat as waves of white-hot pleasure crashed over me. He kept moving, drawing it out until I was shaking, boneless, clinging to his shoulders.

Only when the last tremor faded did he ease his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean while his eyes never left mine.

I was still catching my breath, skirt bunched around my waist, lips swollen, heart racing—when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

A bright, high-pitched voice sang through the wood.

“Hi, Ethan! It’s Sophia… I’m back!”

The air in the room went ice-cold.

Ethan stilled, his expression shifting from raw hunger to something carefully blank in the space of a heartbeat.

Sophia.

Whoever she was, she had perfect timing.

I slid off the desk on unsteady legs, tugging my clothes back into place while Ethan buttoned his shirt with calm, infuriating precision.

I straightened my spine, wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, and smiled— sweet, and dangerous.

"Just a second." He said.

As the door opener, I felt panic rushing through me. I quickly went under the desk, at this point. I was between his legs.

I inhaled his scent shamelessly. As the annoying lady began to speak, so did I begin to move.

I wanted to feel wild, spontaneous and young.

He shifted closer, grabbed my hair and pulled me to his zipper. But he stayed so calm, he nodded at whatever the lady said without breaking contact.

She flirted with him nonstop. I knew it was supposed to be fake dating...But why was I feeling jealous?

"Will you go out with me this Friday? As friends of course..." She said, saying the word "friends" like it burnt her tongue.