Soaking Her Panties.

Chapter 2.

Noria Carter’s POV.

“Noria!” The voice came in loudly, only that it wasn’t a voice, it was the terrible sound of my ringtone, buzzing and pulling me away from something I didn’t want to believe.

I yanked out of bed immediately, grabbing the phone from the bedside table while actually trying to get rid of the sleep completely.

When my eyes met the screen, a soft exhale slipped past my lips.

It was my best friend. Ivy and I have been friends for the longest, sharing wo and together.

I stared at the call for long and as much as I wanted to know why she was calling at this early hour, I also wanted to know why the hell I was dreaming about my best friend’s dad.

Mr. Lucan Cyrus. The coldest and most dangerous man to ever walk the surface of this earth. He is a business tycoon, one with the largest literature firm in the whole of America.

I hate him. I have never liked him, and trust me, I still find it pretty hard to gush over a man like him.

He is handsome. Probably the most handsome man you would ever see in all your life, but he just happened to be a man with a cold exterior and a hard look that would actually never end.

And I am the opposite. I am the most cheerful person ever. But to him, I am just a loud girl with no sense of decorum, but trust me, I didn’t come to this already very chaotic life just to wear a hard look for the rest of my already miserable life.

A call came in on my phone again, and I blinked back, taking my attention back to it. T

Ivy was calling again, and I was still finding it hard to pick up.

I should. She might be in trouble and need my help, but my pulse was racing and I was trying so hard to regulate my thoughts, but the harder I tried, the more I saw Lucan’s hand moving up my thighs while my pussy churned with anticipation.

A feeling of sensation slipped into me, but I shut my eyes, clamping my legs together and reminding myself that the dream was wrong.

He was my best friend’s dad, but the most concerning fact was that we were both enemies.

So, no enemies should ever think or have such a dream about their enemy. But I concluded that dreaming about him was definitely because Ivy and I had a conversation about him last night before bed.

I don’t want him, I won’t want him, and I will never want him.

Another sigh escaped my lips, but I picked up my phone this time because it was ringing for the third time. When I finally moved it to my ear, Ivy was screaming already.

“Where the hell have you been…”

“In my sleep.” I yawned, lying down on the bed and pushing my ass up in the exact way that I often sleep.

“Yuck!” She replied, and I could actually see her rolling her eyes again. “Don’t tell me you are not coming again.”

“I mean… I will. But, no one leaves their house to set up a Christmas tree by six o’clock, do they…”

A soft silence settled on the line, then she finally said, “It’s my first Christmas though.” Her voice had softened now, and I knew not to be a tease.

Christmas has always been the deal breaker for Ivy, because her parents broke up some Christmas ago, and the trauma wouldn’t stop living rent-free in her head. And after a lot of convincing from her man, she is finally trying to find warmth in it, as everyone says.

“I know…” I whispered, leaning into my softer version for her.

“I need you to be here, Noria. You know I have no one and… I am really trying to be happy….”

“I know…” I whispered, blinking back gently.

I want to celebrate Christmas with my friend, because seeing her happy is the only thing I could offer to the lady who had stood up for me countless times, at least for now, but her father and I have this unspoken hate between us, and as though that isn’t bad enough, I suddenly woke up to soaking panties and a wet pussy. How do I survive days with torture like that?

“Can you hear me?” I heard Ivy’s voice from the line, and I hurriedly blinked back, biting my lip.

“I… I am here…”

“Are you okay?” she asked with a knitted brow, I guessed, but I nodded as though she could see me.

I am not. I do not have the extra energy to hate on someone, but celebrating Christmas with Ivy is just another way to escape my own reality.

Christmas has never been a culture here, I mean, not since my father vanished into the land of no return. My mum has been a shadow of herself, and I just wish she didn’t include me. But day after day, she goes out to drink her life out, gamble my money, and box on me whenever she desires. Everyone talked about daddy issues, but I can’t relate, because I only have a mother who would rather punch me than seek betterment.

I want to leave, to find peace outside this messed-up life, but I can’t leave, because I made a promise to my father to always keep her safe.

“I am here,” I exhaled a deep breath, and Ivy spoke.

“I am glad you are coming. Let’s make this Christmas a success and perhaps a start to something better.”

My head dropped into a nod that she definitely couldn’t see, and while I pictured in my mind what to wear, I also had to keep convincing myself mentally that I could never be into Lucan Cyrus Volkov.

The dream was just a confirmation of what I actually need, hot foreplay and sex afterward. One I haven't experienced since my ex and I brought up.

The call ended, and I dragged my lazy self out of bed, threw myself into the bathtub, ran myself a very lazy shower, then stood at the vanity all dressed in a big baggy top, multicolored sweatpants, and a bag that matched the vibe. I left my delicate hair down to frame my oval face, and my pointed nose was the highlight of it all.

A smile formed at the corner of my lips, because I wore it the exact way I was wearing the confidence that I was slowly trying to instill in myself, because my ex did a good job taking the last I had left.

I got to Ivy’s house, and I could never be more excited than I was to have successfully left my house.

The living room smelled of peace and warmth, but trust me, the owner was far from it.

The mansion was a craft of all glass, and it embodied luxury if you understood the peak of it.

When I got to the living room, Ivy was already in Christmas pajamas, arranging the tree like her life depended on it.

For a person who had no interest in this, she seemed rather concentrated. Her hair was packed in a loose bun, and she sat on the floor, but the moment she saw me, her lips stretched into an obvious smile.

“Hey!!!!” She called out, stretching her hand forward. My heart twirled in excitement, and I hurriedly moved forward.

“You are doing well with the tree,” I complimented gently while running a 360-degree stare on the tree.

“Thanks to Jordan. He sent me lots of videos on how to create one.”

My heart melted, but I hurriedly switched into sarcasm. “It’s already too bad that I am not in a relationship. Could you do me the favor and stop oppressing me?”

Ivy chuckled gently as she wrapped the lights around the tree while still blushing.

I glared at the tree, then made to sit, but in that moment my eyes caught sight of something, and trust me, I didn’t want to look, but I did, and now my eyes were glued there because descending the all-glass stairs was the man I didn’t want to see.

My best friend’s dad.

He walked down the stairs, shirtless and all-mighty. Because he was. His steps were gentle and powerful and I hated to notice it, but I did, and more.

Bare wide chest with ripped muscles, broad shoulders, and biceps that I could grab firmly, while screaming my lungs out from getting fucked the right way.

Focus! I cautioned myself, but that caution would have worked if my eyes hadn’t strayed down to his waist where his joggers sat low on his V line. Exactly the way I had dreamt of him. My eyes lingered in that spot and for a brief unexpected moment, I thought about the size of his cock. The length of it. How hard it would be and how veiny it would probably look.

Stop looking. A voice played in my head and I shifted my gaze back to his face.

Tousled yet messy hair, straight nose, almond eyes, and lips that could part my vertical lips open and ruin me till I was jerking up with no control.

Subconsciously, my thighs clamped together, as my gaze hovered around his body.

Fuck it! I hate this man! But he was six-foot-four of reckless power and an aura that could force replies out of your pussy.

“Good morning…” The familiar voice of Ivy greeted me, and I blinked back, but I wished I hadn’t. Because when I did, my eyes met his, and my body froze immediately.

His deep, haunting eyes held mine, piercing coldly into my face, till my pussy was dripping while I did a terrible job consoling it.