Protected part 3

I left the terrace doors unlocked on purpose.

Then I lay in the dark and waited.

An hour passed. Then another. My body was still humming from the kitchen, from the way he’d kissed me like he hated how much he wanted it. Every time the building settled I thought it was him. Every distant sound made my pulse jump.

At 3:06 a.m. the soft click of the terrace door opening finally came.

I didn’t move.

Soft footsteps crossed the bedroom. I kept my eyes closed, breathing steady, even though my heart was slamming so hard I was sure he could hear it. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed.

A moment later his voice came, low and rough in the dark.

“You left it open on purpose.”

I opened my eyes.

Kai sat there in the dim city light, still fully dressed, jaw tight. His eyes moved over me—T-shirt rucked up around my hips, bare legs, the obvious fact that I hadn’t bothered with underwear this time.

“I wanted to see if you’d come,” I said.

“I’m paid to come.”

“That’s not why you’re here right now.”

Silence stretched. I watched the muscle in his cheek flex. Then he reached out and gripped my ankle, his hand warm and rough. He dragged me slowly down the bed until my hips were closer to him. The T-shirt rode up higher. He looked at the bare skin he’d uncovered like it was a problem he couldn’t solve.

“This is reckless,” he said.

“I know.”

“I’m supposed to protect you. Not—” He cut himself off, shaking his head once. His thumb stroked the inside of my ankle, almost without permission. “Not this.”

I sat up slowly, close enough that our faces were inches apart. “Then leave.”

He didn’t.

Instead he kissed me.

Harder than before. Hungrier. One hand slid into my hair and tilted my head back while the other pushed the T-shirt all the way up to my waist. When his palm found bare skin—no underwear, just wet heat—he made a low, almost angry sound against my mouth.

“Fuck, Maya.”

His fingers slid through the slickness between my legs, slow and deliberate. He didn’t push inside yet. He just stroked, spreading me open, feeling how ready I already was. Every pass of his fingers made my breath hitch.

“You’ve been like this since the kitchen,” he muttered. “I could tell.”

“Then do something about it.”

Kai’s eyes were dark when they met mine. For a second I thought he might still pull away. Then he pushed two thick fingers inside me in one smooth motion.

I moaned into his shoulder.

He fucked me with them slowly at first, curling, searching, until he found the angle that made my thighs shake. His mouth moved to my neck, teeth scraping lightly while his fingers worked me open. The wet sound of it filled the quiet room.

“Quiet,” he said against my skin. “Unless you want the whole floor to know what your bodyguard is doing to you.”

The words sent a fresh pulse of heat straight through me. I bit my lip and tried to stay silent while he added a third finger and stretched me wider. His thumb found my clit and circled with ruthless precision. My hips started moving against his hand without permission.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Take it.”

I came hard, sudden, muffling the sound against his neck while my cunt clenched around his fingers. He worked me through it until I was trembling and oversensitive, then slowly pulled his hand free.

He brought his shiny fingers to my mouth.

“Clean them.”

I did. I sucked my own taste off his skin while he watched, eyes locked on mine, breathing heavier than before. When he pulled his hand away he stood up abruptly, like sitting so close was becoming dangerous.

I reached for the front of his pants.

He caught my wrist.

“No.”

The rejection stung for half a second—until I saw the look on his face. He was hard. Obviously. The outline of him strained against the black fabric. He wasn’t saying no because he didn’t want it.

He was saying no because he was still trying to hold the line.

“Kai—”

“If I let you touch me right now,” he said, voice rough, “I’m going to fuck you. And once I start I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

The honesty in it made my stomach flip.

He released my wrist and stepped back. His hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t trust them. I could still feel the stretch of his fingers inside me. I was wetter than before, aching, and completely unwilling to pretend this was over.

Kai looked at me for a long moment—flushed, T-shirt pushed up, legs still parted from where he’d had his hand.

“Lock the doors this time,” he said quietly. “For real.”

Then he turned and walked out the way he came, terrace doors clicking shut behind him.

I lay there in the dark, pulse still racing, the ghost of his fingers still inside me.

I didn’t lock the doors.

I got up, walked to the terrace, and left them open again.

Then I went back to bed, slid my own hand between my legs, and finished what he’d started while I thought about the exact way his voice had sounded when he said he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Tomorrow, I decided, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him to walk away.