Arousing the Candled Flames

Chapter 1

Warning: R-18+

Trigger Warning: Explicit Language.

Tougher

Nagpaalam ako sa mga kaibigan ko na matutulog na ako dahil masakit na ang ulo ko. I even asked Isla if I could use one of their guest rooms for a bit of quiet.

"Yung totoo, hihiram ka ba talaga ng kwarto para makapagpahinga o para magpakapagod?" Isla teased me, and I just shrugged it off, trying to maintain my casual demeanor.

The guest room was meticulously organized, almost too pristine, like every detail had been set in place and untouched. The sheets looked soft, inviting, but I could already imagine the disorder we'd create in here. Part of me felt guilty for disturbing the peacefulness of this room; the other part, a thrill.

As soon as we stepped inside, he closed the door and called my name softly, "Paula." The way he said it held a familiarity, a hint of something deeper. I looked at him, caught off guard.

"K-kilala mo ako?" I asked, not entirely masking my surprise. It felt strange to hear my name from him. Sure, my circle is notorious in BGC for being the quintessential playboys and playgirls, some of us even hail from prestigious schools in the Philippines. But, the way he said my name it felt different now.

He pulled me close, his hands tracing the curve of my neck, his fingers brushing my skin in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. He kissed me, deeply, a rhythm unfolding between us. His touch, his breath, all of it felt overwhelming yet steady, pulling me into a pace that felt raw and real.

I hadn't expected. One moment, everything was lighthearted, the next, he had me pressed firmly against the door. His warmth seeped through me, and for a second, I just stood there, a little dazed by the sudden closeness. His touch was gentle yet unapologetically assured, a steady presence that felt both inviting and intense.

"So needy..." I whispered, almost to myself, as his kisses deepened, each one pulling me further into a haze. His hands found their way to my thighs, lifting me effortlessly, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him, feeling the grounding weight of him beneath me. He walked us over to the bed, never breaking the connection, his focus unwavering. I marveled at how he managed to carry me so seamlessly, yet somehow, I was the one left breathless.

My arms circled his neck as I held onto him, feeling my own heartbeat quicken against his chest. His warmth enveloped me, a steady pulse that drew me in even deeper. And then, he began tracing soft, deliberate kisses along my shoulder, each one almost reverent, like he was savoring the moment as much as I was. I found myself smiling softly, feeling a quiet rush of calm and exhilaration all at once.

When I met his lips again, the kiss was slower, more intentional, a reflection of the silent understanding between us, a quiet surrender to a moment that was ours alone. In that closeness, everything else faded, leaving just the two of us wrapped in a stillness that felt grounding, real, and almost sacred.

His lips pressed harder against mine, claiming me with a hunger that was both thrilling and terrifying. I felt his tongue trace the edges of my mouth, searching, tasting. I didn't just give in, I matched his fervor, feeling the electricity course through every nerve. There was something about his touch, the intensity of it, that left me weak, unraveling beneath him. The way he affected me was like nothing I'd felt before... a raw, undeniable need.

Between breaths, he muttered, "I've always wanted you, wanted this, wanted to make sure it's only me you think about." His words struck a chord, each syllable soaked in possessiveness. "Clint always had this smug look, always flaunting that he'd had you first." The mention of Clint made me pause, my brows knitting in slight confusion.