To Get There

Chapter 13

Warning: there's always a little 🔞

Serkan's POV

She was mine.

And seeing that idiot Cenk Olmaz floating around Eda sent my brain crazy.

I felt Eda's breath fast and suffocated in the desire to bring our lips closer together, sitting in our chairs in my office.

My fingers caressed her soft and smooth thighs, feeling the small dunes that the chills of her body created under my touch.

She was mine, and I couldn't help but need that damn scent of her right under my nose.

"Eat your lasagna now, Eda."

I whispered with the remaining thread of voice, observing her dilated pupils fixed on my lips.

Eda nodded quickly, and pulled back with the chair, adjusting her skirt nervously under my smirking gaze.

"So what updates do you think Cenk will give you on the hotel project?"

Eda asked me, while we were eating, accompanying the meal with light chatter.

"The hotel project was commissioned by a wealthy woman entrepreneur from southern Turkey. It was a project that my father was working on before retirement, but because of the various details it carries, I was only able to revive the project recently. And Cenk Olmaz was immediately interested in this project, inexplicably. He was the sole referent of this project and my only choice not to make it fail. So, I put aside my revulsion towards this man just so as not to disappoint my father... again."

My gaze fell on my almost empty plate with my fork, and I swallowed the bitter morsel of the memory of all those times when my father told me that I was a disappointment to him.

Eda quickly got up from the chair and pulled my shoulders towards the back of my chair, opening a space between me and the table so that she could sit on my lap.

She laid her hands on my burning cheeks because of the agitation that a simple story had brought to me.

"You are not a disappointment, Serkan. And whoever thinks you are, is wrong. I have always admired your determination and the courage you have in your work, the passion and dedication with which you begin your commitment to projects. Before knowing you like I'm learning right now, I thought you were an asshole. But I never thought you were useless."

And I kissed her.

I kissed her like she was the last drop of water in a desert under the hot sun.

As if my life depended on her lips.

I immersed my tongue in hers, exploring those lips that I now knew as the palm of my hand.

And I felt like she felt it, too.

I felt she wanted to be mine.

I couldn't be the only one who felt it: I hoped, I desired, I longed for her to feel it too.

But I? Was I hers?

That terrible feeling that had assailed me when she admitted that she could accept a lunch with Cenk Olmaz... I felt not enough for her.

Even though she was in my arms, even though I gave her an orgasm for breakfast, even though we knew each other's deep secrets, I didn't feel enough for her.

But I would have committed myself to be for her: in the name of our agreement, in honor of the person in front of me who deserved only the best version of me.

And I had to learn about the best version of myself, and most importantly, I had to prove the courage to show it to her, and myself.

Our lips peeled off gently and our eyes remained staring as if we wanted to tell each other something more... but what?