Chapter 3 Stella

She tastes like expensive whiskey and desperation, like everything I've been missing and didn't know I needed. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, closer, like she's trying to crawl inside my skin.

I walk her backward until her back hits the window—floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the city, the lights of Cape Town spread out below us like offerings.

"Ryan."

she breathes against my mouth, and hearing my name in that voice does dangerous things to my self-control.

"Tell me what you want." I say, even though I'm dying.

" I told you."

"Tell me, Stella."

"Everything."

Her eyes are fever-bright.

"I want to forget who I am. Forget who I have to be tomorrow. Just for tonight, I want to feel something real."

"I can do that." I slide my hands into her hair, tilt her face up. "I can make you feel everything."

"Prove it."

Challenge accepted.

I kiss her like I'm drowning and she's air. Like she's the answer to every question I've been too afraid to ask. My hands find the zipper at the back of her dress some designer thing that probably costs more than most people's cars and I draw it down slowly, deliberately, watching her skin appear inch by torturous inch.

"You're going too slow, "

she complained, but her voice is breathless.

"Am I?" I press a kiss to her shoulder, then her collarbone.

"Maybe I want to savor this. Savor you."

The dress pools at her feet, and she's a vision. Black lace and curves and miles of dark caramel skin. I step back, just looking, and she lets me. No self-consciousness, just power.

"Now who's staring?"

she says, but there's heat in her voice.

"Can you blame me?" I

move back to her, run my hands down her sides, feeling her shiver.

"You're fucking perfect, Stella."

"I'm not..."

She starts to protest, but I silence her with a kiss.

"You are.Tonight, you're perfect. And you're mine."

Something flashes in her eyes relief...surrender. Like she's been waiting for someone to claim her, to see her, to want her beyond what she can offer.

I kiss my way down her throat, her chest, taking my time with each inch of skin. Her fingers thread through my hair, holding me to her, and the small sounds she makes are driving me insane.

"Ryan, please."

Her voice breaks on my name.

"Please what.Use your words, Stella. Tell me what you need."

"You. I need you. Now."

"Not yet." I undo her bra, let it fall away, and have to pause just to look at her. "God, you're beautiful."

I take her nipple into my mouth, and she gasps, arching into me. I work her slowly, thoroughly, until she's trembling, until her grip on my hair is almost painful.

"Bedroom," she manages. "Now."

I lift her she's lighter than I expected—and her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her through the suite. She kisses my neck, my jaw, anywhere she can reach, and I can barely think straight.

I lay her on the bed, and she reaches for me, but I catch her wrists.

"Not yet,"

I say again, pinning her hands above her head.

" stop teasing."

"I want to look at you. Want to memorize this."

She writhes beneath me, all that perfect control shattered.

"Ryan..."

"Shh." I kiss her, deep and slow

"hmm"

. "Trust me."

"I do."

she whispers, and the honesty in it undoes me.

I release her wrists and kiss my way down her body. She's responsive, vocal, arching into every touch. When I reach the waistband of her lace panties, I look up, asking permission.

She nods, breathless.

"Yes."

I peel them off slowly, and then she's completely bare before me. Vulnerable. Trusting. Mine.

I kiss the inside of her thigh, and she trembles.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"Don't you dare,"

she breathes.

I don't stop

I take my time, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her forget her own name. She tastes like heaven and sin, and I could do this for hours, watching her fall apart.

"Ryan," she gasps, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"I'm going to"

"Let go.I've got you."

She shatters, crying out, her whole body trembling. I work her through it, gentling my touch as she comes down, pressing soft kisses to her thighs.

When I move back up her body, she's looking at me with something like wonder.

"That was..." She can't seem to find words.

"Just the beginning,"

I promise.

She reaches for my shirt, starts unbuttoning it with shaking fingers. "Too many clothes. Not fair."

I help her, stripping off my shirt, then my pants, until I'm as bare as she is. Her eyes go dark as she looks at me, and her hand wraps around my cock, stroking slowly.

"Fuck, Stella,"

I groan.

"I want you inside me,"

she says, and the raw honesty in her voice nearly kills me.

"Now, Ryan. Please."

I grab a condom from the drawer, and roll it on. Then I settle between her thighs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance.

"I want to see you when I fill you. please look at me.

I push inside slowly, and we both groan. She's so tight, so wet, so perfect that I have to pause, have to get control before I embarrass myself like a teenager.

"Move" she demands, wrapping her legs around my waist.

"Are you sure?"

"Ryan, please move."

I do, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has her gasping. Every thrust feels like coming home, like finding something I didn't know I was missing.

"Harder," she pleads, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

"hmm"

"I won't break."

I give her what she wants, increasing my pace, going deeper. The sounds she makes are obscene and perfect, and I'm addicted to them, to her, to this.

"Touch yourself, I want you to be in control.I want to feel you come around me."

She slides her hand between us, her fingers finding her clit, and the sight of it nearly undoes me. I can feel her tightening around me, getting close.

I want more. Need more.

I pull out ignoring her sound of protest—and flip her onto her stomach. She goes willingly, eagerly, rising onto her hands and knees.

"Like this," I say, running my hands over the curve of her ass.

"I want you like this."

I push back inside in one smooth thrust, and she cries out, her back arching. This angle is deeper, more intense, and I can tell she feels it too.

I set a punishing pace, one hand gripping her hip while the other slides around to her front, my fingers finding her clit. I work her in time with my thrusts, feeling her tighten around me.

"Ryan," she gasps. "I'm going to...

"Come for me, Stella..."

I command, my fingers increasing their pressure.

"Let me feel it."

She does, screaming my name as she comes apart. The feeling of her clenching around me pushes me over the edge, and I follow her into oblivion, groaning her name like a prayer.

We collapse together, both breathing hard. I pull out carefully and deal with the condom, then pull her against my chest.

"That was" She laughs softly, breathlessly.

"I don't have words."

"Neither do I."

I press a kiss to her hair.

"Stay tonight."

She stiffens slightly.

"Ryan."

"I know. No future, no tomorrow, it's still tonight. Stay until morning. Let me hold you while we pretend the world doesn't exist."

She studies my face for a long moment, then nods.

"Until morning."

"Until morning,"

I agree, even though I know I'm lying.One night with Stella won't be enough. Already isn't enough.

We talk for hours carefully avoiding specifics but sharing truths. She tells me about feeling trapped in a life she never chose, about the weight of family expectations, about forgetting what it feels like to want something just for herself.

I tell her about drowning in responsibility, about being good at a job I'm not sure I believe in, about the loneliness of being surrounded by people who see your title but not your face.

"We're a mess, aren't we?"

she says, laughing softly.

"The most beautiful mess I've ever seen."

She kisses me again, and this time it's slower, deeper, tinged with something that tastes dangerously like emotion. We make love again,because that's what it is now, not just sex and it's somehow even more intense than before.

I take my time with her this round, exploring every inch of her body with my hands and mouth. I discover she's ticklish behind her knees, that she gasps when I bite her earlobe, that she loves when I whisper filthy things in her ear.

"You feel so good," I murmur as I slide inside her again, this time face to face, her legs wrapped around my waist.

" you feel hard and ready ."

"So fucking perfect."

"Ryan," she breathes, her fingers digging into my back. "Don't stop."

I don't plan to. I rock into her slowly, deeply, watching her face in the dim light. She's so beautiful like this—hair spread across the pillow, lips parted, eyes dark with pleasure.

"I could do this all night,"

I tell her, meaning it.

I know this is temporary. Know that morning will come and she'll leave and I'll never see her again. That's the deal we made.

'm not already planning how to find her again.

Stella whoever she really is,just became the most important person in my world.

I'm not letting her go without a fight.