Mature Content in this chapter - 18+
✰ Arabella ✰
"𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧"
My body awakened itself, the caressing feel of soft sheets against my bare skin along with the warm arms of another.
Fluttering my eyes open, I peeked around the darkened room before landing on the man under me.
He was curled around my body, his arms clutching my waist almost protectively and his head buried in my chest, soundly sleeping.
I giggled quietly as I looked at his most angelic face buried in the pit of my breasts. It was quite amusing.
His black curls were tousled and sexily soft against my skin, while his entire face and body were relaxed. It was a truly stunning sight, almost heavenly.
He looked peaceful while he slept, and I rarely got to see him sleep because I was always the first to fall, and he'd be up before me the next morning.
But I was grateful for it now that I could see him in such a peaceful state. But then, between my legs, the urge to pee emerged, and I groaned softly.
I only hoped I wouldn't wake him when I moved. So I slowly slid his arms away from me, which thankfully withdrew. I replaced my body with a pillow and walked around the bed, leaving the boy.
My feet skidded into the bedroom bathroom, which also had a shower. I hastily shut the door and sat on the toilet to relieve my needs.
It seemed around two in the morning, which immediately turned my mood mildly upwards. I glanced towards the shower and considered if I should.
I had an odd addiction to showering whenever I woke in the middle of the night. It was the strange sensation of taking a shower at three am that helped me relax.
So, seeing the bath towels in a rack next to the shower—I decided to do it. I promptly stripped, turning on the shower in the process.
I stepped into the steaming water and submerged my entire body in it, allowing it to permeate through my hair and skin.
My eyes were closed and my skin's sensitivity became heated in a matter of seconds.
The sound of the shower door opening had my eyes snapping open and then widening to their greatest point as Roman—completely fucking naked—walked in.
He towered totally over me, his hair dishevelled and falling over his forehead, his tattooed, muscular physique on full display.
My gaze was drawn to his manhood, which stood thick and long in front of me. He took a step forwards, forcing me to look up and see his nearly devilish, piercing eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Lowkey
RomanceArabella Malik, the lethal American mob boss's daughter. The beauty of the nineteen-year-old was well-known. Her hourglass figure and glowing grey eyes-which mirrored her father's, had practically everyone praising the ground she walked on. Arabella...