FOUR: Did You Imagine Me Bending You Over?

LYRA

The color completely drained from Aaron's face. His palms tightened into fists, and his Adam's apple bubbled up and down. His lips thinned into furious lines, and I expected him to wake up and put an end to this. 

I expected him to call the deal off, drag me protectively to his side, and announce that he'd rather die than allow another man to put their hands on me. I'd go with him. I’d forget how traitorous my body was towards this man. I’d forget that a man named Raguel ever existed, but my husband backed away slowly instead. 

“Goodnight,” he whispered, and my heart shattered. I guessed I wasn't worthy compared to this business deal. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Volkov. I'll get my driver to drop Lyra off as soon as she can walk again.”

An enraged look clouded Aaron's eyes at the insinuation of the fact that I wouldn't be able to walk immediately because of how well he'd fuck me, but he didn't say anything. He only nodded and walked away. 

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach as the door clicked shut behind him, and it was just me and this irresistible Greek god, whose presence was making my heart beat faster, not out of betrayal that my husband traded me to him, but at the fact that we're going to spend the night together. 

I was definitely going insane. An alien sex starved ghost must have possessed me from the minute I walked in through that door. 

“Your husband is a fool, isn't he? If you were mine, I'd rather bleed out to death than allow another man to put his hand on you.”

I scoffed as I looked down on him, still sitting in his chair, and it was a bit disorienting to watch him up close. He was unnaturally good-looking. 

“Are you any different from him? You capitalized on his weakness, and you made an unreasonable demand of sleeping with his wife because you know that he's desperate for an investment to save his company.”

“If he were a good man, if he knew the value of what he holds, he'd allow his company to burn into ashes rather than allow another man to know what his wife tastes like.”

My cheeks heated up, and the spot between my thighs ached. Something was terribly wrong with my body. I've never felt this way before. My body was in overdrive, and all my senses seemed heightened. All because I was standing in the presence of this man. 

“So?” I put on a fake bravado, “What next?” 

“We go to bed,” he replied easily as if it was completely normal to take married women to his bed every night. And just like that, my false bravado dissipated, and my nerves hit an all-time high. 

Was I really going to go to bed with him? Would we really sleep together? Was he going to…

“The guest room has been prepared for you. I'll get the maid to lead you there.”

Wait, what? 

“What?” I stared at him, dumbfounded. 

“You heard me, Lyra. The guest room has been prepared for you, and a maid will lead you there in a minute.”

What the… 

“What? I'm… Guest room? Are we not… You told my husband that… isn't… Are you not… Did you not ask Aaron to bring me here because you wanted to sleep with his wife as part of a business deal?”

He clocked his head to one side and observed me carefully, “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

“Yes…What? No oo. Of course, not.” I stuttered, beyond mortified, as heat crept up my neck and I had to fan myself with my hand despite the full blast of the air conditioner. 

“That's settled then.”

“I don't understand. All through dinner, you made references to what would happen after Aaron leaves, but now, you just want me to sleep?”

“I wanted to check if your husband would be man enough to put an end to this madness, but apparently, he's just as weak as I thought.”

His statement, and the dismissive way he said it, only made me more confused, “so? Why did you make the request then? Does this… This won't affect the planned investment, right?”

My tone dropped at the last part, and my stomach churned at the thoughts of what Aaron might do to me if this investment fell through because of me. We'd go back to being strangers again, and worse, my husband could possibly go to jail. 

“It won't, right?” I asked again, my tone desperate, and Raguel’s eyes darkened with an intensity that might have scared me if I weren't so worried about the investment. 

“No, it won't.”

“Oh God,” I visibly relaxed, all but collapsing onto the chair. Raguel’s eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. 

“So why did you ask Raguel to bring me over when you never had the intention of sleeping with me?”

“Don't get me wrong, Lyra, I'm going to sleep with you, but it just won't be tonight.” He replied, and disappointment and confusion settled on me like a second skin. 

“You look disappointed,” he mused, with an amused grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He stood from his chair, and he took a step towards me while I leaned backward, “Were you hoping I'd bend you over tonight, Lyra? Did you sit through dinner with your husband in attendance, fantasizing about another man splitting you open with his cock?”

“No,” I attempted a protest, but my voice came out in a breathy whisper instead. He was right. I was so fucking soaked. My whole body was in overdrive, and I've never been more desperate for anything in my entire life. 

I was mortified at myself. At my body. At my thoughts. What the hell was going on with me?

“You are,” he insisted as his hand staked out to brush a strand of hair away from my face. Our skin didn't make contact, but they might as well have, with the way heat flared up within me. 

His eyes dropped to my thighs with a deliberate slowness, and he stared as if he could tell what was going on there. As if he could tell how my pussy was clenching and aching and soaking my panties. 

He raised his head, and the visceral hunger in his eyes made me take a step back. His eyes dropped to my lips and lingered. Time stopped as I held my breath. His palms fisted as if he was trying to control himself, and a strange sound that sounded like a loud howl bubbled up from within him while his eyes flashed red for less than a nanosecond. 

“Go to bed, Lyra. You have a long night ahead of you.” 

He had barely finished talking when a maid walked out of a door, curtseyed, and told me she would lead me to my room. Raguel instantly walked away, so I had no option but to follow the maid up the stairs and down a dark hallway before we finally stopped in front of a door. 

My thoughts were all over the place. Why does he mean by ‘I had a long night ahead of me’ when all I had to do was to sleep? Why did he ask Aaron to bring me here when he had no intention of sleeping with me in the first place? What was that bizarre connection between us: one that felt like we've known each other for decades and made my body come alive when he's near? Who and what was Raguel Whitebrock? 

My thoughts evaporated when I stepped into the room, which looked nothing like a guest room but like one ready to welcome someone to inhabit it forever. The room was in white with touches of blue and pink. It looked like a room I'd have dreamt of living in as a child. The maid told me that everything I needed was in the room and that if I needed anything else, I should just use the telephone by the bedside before she left. 

She was right. The room and the bathroom had everything I needed: a nightgown, a shower cap, sweet-smelling creams and oils. I stripped till I had nothing on, and the sight of my lacy panties, soaked with the evidence of my forbidden attraction towards that man, reminded me of how bizarre this whole night had been. 

It also reminded me of the fact that my body was still in an overdrive and that my core was still sensitive and desperate for his touch. I stepped into the shower and willed the shower to wash it all away. Instead, it worsened it. The feel of the water against my skin reminded me of his lips against the back of my palm, of his fingers brushing away a strand of my hair, and of the way he seemed to be fucking me with his eyes. 

I slipped my fingers between my thighs. I just wanted to soothe the ache, to make it better, but when a breathy moan left my lips at the contact, I couldn't stop myself. I threw my head against the wall as I slipped a finger in and started thrusting in and out. I imagined it was his finger. I imagined that it was him making me feel this good. I imagined that the kind of dirty words he'd whisper into my ears as he finger fucked me while my eyes rolled to the back of my head and my moans communicated my ecstasy. 

Such a good little slut, aren't you? 

Look at your cunt soaking up my fingers. 

You take my finger so well, Mama. Makes me wonder how well you'll take my cock. 

I came with a scream and with his name on my lips as my body trembled and shook from the wave of my orgasm. I was still reeling from the waves of my orgasm when I heard a sound that sounded so much like a howl, a loud, depraved, animalistic howl that drowned the sound of the shower running. 

I stood at alert, shocked by the sound, expecting to hear it again, but nothing came. Just the sound of the shower running and the realization of the sinful thing I just did. It filled me with a burning sense of shame, made me block my thoughts out, and finished showering before tucking myself into bed. My body had hardly touched the bed when I drifted off into the deepest sleep I've ever had. 

“Have you heard of werewolves?” 

“Werewolves?” I asked the blurry figure in my dream, “Yeah, in stories like Teen Wolf and The Originals.”

The blurry figure chuckled in a way that sounded eerily similar to Raguel’s, “Yeah, right? But you know stories mirror our reality, though.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about how wolves exist all around you. You see and encounter them every day. The attendant at your favorite store is probably a werewolf. Same thing for your favorite actors. Maybe even your neighbor, but you've hardly paid attention to them.”

It was my turn to chuckle at the ridiculousness of his statement and my dream, “don't be delusional, Raguel. There are no such things as werewolves in the real world.”

“There are. You probably noticed a bizarre thing before you entered this house, and when you leave here tomorrow morning, you'll find yourself paying attention to things and people you've always ignored. You'll confirm that there are really werewolves all around you.”

“Stop,” I protested weakly, my mind casting back to the glowing pair of red eyes I saw in the garden just before we entered the house and the howl that came from somewhere in the house just after I finished touching myself. 

It was confusing, and it was even more confusing that I was conscious of this dream while also remembering real things. 

The landscape of the dream changed suddenly, and Raguel was suddenly above me on my bed, his hand wrapped around my neck with a feral possessiveness in his red eyes. 

“Your husband sold you for a contract,” he said quietly as his red eyes darkened.

“But what he doesn’t know… is that you were never his to give.”