Elena’s POV:
Okay, I take it back. Being blindfolded and restrained isn’t as bad as I imagined. Alright, not exactly restrained, but being told not to touch him? Close enough, right? That’s why the wrists are usually bound, after all. I thought I’d hate it. I thought it would feel too much, too vulnerable, but I was wrong. So wrong. In fact, I couldn’t help but enjoy it, maybe more than I should have. It was thrilling, not being able to touch him, not knowing exactly what he was doing, but feeling every shift of his body next to mine.
So, with that said, I’m not ashad to admit I kind of want to do it again. To experience the sa wild tension, the slow-burning desire that lit up between us. With him not holding back this ti, like I knew he had done. I an, I get it. He stopped midway last ti, pulling away when things started getting heated, and I didn’t bla him. It was my first ti, after all. The romance books always said the first ti hurts. I definitely didn’t want that to happen at the dining table. Can you imagine?
And I have to give him credit—he’s got so serious self-control. If he hadn’t stepped back when he did, I would’ve been lost, wanting him like a wolf in heat, clawing at him until I couldn’t breathe. Okay, Elena, forget about that.
After the whole restraint thing, we ended up making dinner. I did most of the cooking, of course, but Kane was there, hovering around . He was all over the place, trying to help, his hands brushing mine every ti I reached for sothing. I’d be stirring the sauce, and there he was, just behind , his breath warm on the back of my neck, making it hard to concentrate. The way he leaned into , pressing his body against mine, was enough to make my heart race. I could feel his chest against my back, and every ti his hand grazed mine, it sent a jolt through . I could tell he was just trying to get close, just trying to touch .
"Do you need any help?" he asked, his voice husky. I could hear the amusent in it, but there was an edge to it too, sothing that made my skin flush.
"No, I’ve got it," I replied, but he wasn’t backing off. Instead, he stood behind , close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, his presence overwhelming.
As I chopped vegetables, I could feel his eyes on , following every movent. His gaze was hot, and even though I was busy with the task in front of , I could sense him moving closer. He reached over, placing a hand on my waist, just for a mont. It wasn’t a gentle touch. It was deliberate, his fingers skimming across my skin, leaving a trail of heat. I couldn’t help but shiver, feeling a mix of desire and frustration building inside . I knew he wanted more, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could pretend I wasn’t feeling it too.
"Are you sure you don’t need help?" he asked again, his voice lower this ti, the words almost a whisper against my ear. He knew I didn’t, but he was pressing, and I didn’t know how much longer I could resist.
I couldn’t even focus on the food anymore. All I could think about was him—his hands, his lips, the way his presence consud . He was always so close, like he couldn’t stay away. When I turned to grab the salt, he was there, his body pressed up against mine, and his breath fanned across my neck. I felt his lips brush the sensitive skin there, a soft, teasing kiss that made my knees go weak.
I was trying so hard to focus on dinner, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his fingers lingered on my skin, the way his body was practically molded to mine. I could feel the pressure building, my arousal rising, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep it together. My shorts, already snug, started to feel uncomfortably tight as I could feel the wetness between my legs. I couldn’t deny it any longer—I was turned on.
And then there was the ga of poker.
After dinner, we ended up playing cards. Kane didn’t think I could handle poker, assud I’d be too girlish to know how to play. I had a feeling he was underestimating . I wasn’t one to spoil the fun, so I kept my cool, playing my cards carefully, letting him think I was just a novice. But the truth was, I knew exactly what I was doing.
I could tell Kane wasn’t expecting to be good at it. He tried to throw off with his smirking, his playful teasing, but I wasn’t about to let him win. I played my hand with precision, letting him think he had the upper hand until the very end. He thought I was bluffing, and when he went all in, I dropped my cards and showed him I had him beat.
"Looks like I win," I said, trying to keep the smugness out of my voice, but it was hard not to.
So, yeah, I ended up beating him flat, and I got to choose the movie. Kane complained, saying it didn’t have enough action, but you know what? There were still so inappropriate scenes that made blush. I couldn’t stop imagining how Kane would handle those monts if he were the one in the scene.
Now, I’m not into dirty movies, but hear out—I usually watch with my parents. And, well, you know how parents are. So, I’m used to family-friendly films. With Derrick, though, when we watched movies, it felt more... real. Like the one I was watching with Kane. But with Derrick, I didn’t feel embarrassed, because, well, I didn’t know what a kiss could really feel like. All the kisses I’d seen on screen were nothing like Kane’s dirty kisses. And I’m not saying "dirty" in a bad way.
The movie I picked had a few inappropriate scenes, ones that made blush more than I cared to admit. I tried to act like I wasn’t affected, but every ti a kiss or a touch appeared on screen, my mind wandered to Kane. I couldn’t help but wonder how he would react, what he would do if he were the one in the scene. Would his touch be that slow, that deliberate? Or would he be rough, taking control in a way that always drive crazy?
Kane complained again, but I could tell he wasn’t completely against it. Maybe he was just pretending, acting like he didn’t care. But the way his eyes kept drifting to , the way his hand kept finding mine, told a different story. Every ti I glanced over at him, he was looking at in a way that made my heart race.
After the movie, it was getting late. Kane and I went to bed, and even though it was a normal routine, tonight felt different. He took the shower first, leaving alone to think. When he ca out, I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. He was dressed in his sleepwear—if you could even call it that. Just a pair of shorts that didn’t hide much, especially not the fact that his little friend wasn’t so little, even in a resting state.
I went into the bathroom and ca out in a baggy t-shirt and shorts. When I saw him already lying in bed, his upper body naked, I couldn’t stop my gaze from roaming over his chest. His abs were toned, every line of his muscles defined. The tattoos that ran down his arm only added to his appeal. I couldn’t stop looking at him.
But it seed like I wasn’t the only one appreciating the view. Kane’s eyes moved directly to my chest. Yeah, I wasn’t wearing a bra, and maybe it was a little daring, I wasn’t used in sleeping in them and i wasn’t about to start sleeping in one, . He didn’t seem to mind, his gaze lingering just long enough for to notice. I could feel the heat rise in my face, but I didn’t look away.
I walked over to the bed and lay down beside him. He imdiately pulled close, his body heat surrounding as he spooned . His bare chest was warm against my back, and his breath fanned across my skin.
"Breathe, Elena," he murmured softly. "We’re just sleeping."
It wasn’t the first ti we’d shared a bed, but it felt different now, the tension between us undeniable. I tried to adjust my position, to get comfortable, but sothing pressed against my backside. Sothing firm. Sothing undeniable.
I froze. I wasn’t dumb. I knew exactly what it was. His cock, hard and ready, pressing into , and it made my body ache with desire. I stopped moving, becoming still, trying to control my breathing, but it was impossible.
I stayed like that, unable to move, the heat between us growing by the second.
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