Drive
832 Words
Alara’s POV
The villa was soaked in soft golden light, the kind that made everything feel like a dream. The scent of saltwater drifted through the open balcony doors, carried by a breeze that stirred the linen curtains and kissed the back of my thighs.
I stood near the edge of the bed, one hand resting lightly on the carved wood post, wearing nothing but one of Ace Wolfe’s white shirts — crisp, oversized, and swallowing my frame in a way that felt too intimate, too possessive, for something borrowed.
The silence wasn’t quiet.
It pulsed.
And when I felt him enter the room, my body responded before my brain did — spine stiffening, breath slowing, skin heating.
“Turn around,” he said.
His voice was low, husky — that quiet thunder that rolled in just before the storm hit.
I did.
He stood there in an unbuttoned black shirt and slacks, his chest broad and bare, eyes scanning me like I was something he intended to devour slowly.
“Christ,” he muttered. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
I swallowed hard, pulse fluttering like wings against my throat. “Then tell me.”
He crossed the space in three slow steps, his hands coming up to cradle my face — not gently, not roughly, but like he was grounding himself. His thumb brushed along my cheekbone, dragging fire across my skin.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Not just in this moment. Every damn time I look at you.”
He dipped his head closer, the tip of his nose grazing mine.
“I want you,” he murmured. “Not later. Not someday. Now. Here.”
My breath caught as he traced the edge of my jaw with his mouth, his lips barely brushing, teasing, ghosting heat across my skin.
His hands moved — one slipping around my waist, the other fisting in the back of the shirt I wore. He pulled me flush against him, his mouth finding the curve of my neck.
“I think about it more than I should,” he confessed against my skin. “What it’d feel like to lay you down and ruin every part of you.”
My knees buckled. He caught me.
“Say something,” he said, voice thick, rough.
I could barely think.
But my fingers moved, sliding into his hair, tugging slightly.
“I don’t want to be another contract,” I whispered.
“You’re not.”
That answer came too fast. Too sharp. And for the first time, I felt something beneath the ice of his control.
Heat.
Possession.
His mouth found mine with no warning — firm and slow, a kiss meant to claim, not convince. My hands clung to him, my body melting into his. The kiss deepened — tongues tangling, breath shattering — until my head spun.
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around him instinctively. I could feel every taut inch of muscle beneath his skin, the power thrumming beneath that calm exterior.
His mouth moved lower, tracing a path down my throat, dragging sounds from my lips I couldn’t hold back.
“Alara,” he breathed. “You drive me f—”
Knock. Knock.
We froze.
Ace’s forehead pressed against mine as he exhaled a growl of frustration.
“Sir,” came a voice through the door. “Your yacht is ready.”
Another knock.
He let out a sharp breath, stepping back slightly — eyes still locked on me, dark and unfinished.
“Bad timing is apparently my new curse,” he muttered.
I tried to catch my breath, blood roaring in my ears. “Do I have time to change?”
He grinned, something wicked curling his lips. “You’ll need it. What I picked out will turn heads.”
⸻
Fifteen minutes later, I stepped out of the bedroom in the black crystal-studded bikini and sheer golden wrap Ace had chosen. Percy and my sister had gasped when they saw it earlier — now even I couldn’t deny I looked like I stepped out of a billionaire’s fever dream.
I slipped on gold sandals, tied my hair up, and followed Ace down to the yacht dock.
The sun had begun to dip low over the ocean, casting everything in a honeyed glow. The yacht was massive — sleek, white, and gleaming beneath the twilight sky.
As we approached, I saw them.
Clarke stood at the dock, arms crossed, brows furrowed in irritation. Matt, beside her, was gesturing with both hands, clearly mid-argument.
“I’m not apologizing again, Clarke!” Matt said. “You knew what you were doing.”
“And you knew I wasn’t playing around,” Clarke snapped back. “Next time, keep your mouth shut.”
They didn’t notice us approaching until Ace cleared his throat lightly.
Clarke spun around.
Her face shifted instantly, lighting up when she saw me.
- Writer
