Deep Consuming Addiction

Chapter 74

✨ Surprised✨

Ari Darven

Ari didn’t break eye contact.

Not once.

He watched the way her body reacted to him—the way she shifted on the bed, the way her breath came a little faster now, like she was trying to keep up with something she didn’t fully understand yet.

“…you wouldn’t be asking,” he repeated, voice lower, rougher. “You’d be reacting.”

Elena’s lips parted slightly.

Her fingers tightened in the sheets beneath her.

“And what would I be reacting to?” she asked, softer now—but not backing down.

Ari let out a slow breath through his nose, like he was holding something back… barely.

“Me,” he said simply.

The way he said it—

Possessive. Certain.

It made her stomach twist.

“You’re very sure of yourself,” she murmured, trying to steady her voice.

“I am,” he replied without hesitation.

He leaned a little closer to the camera, his voice dropping just enough to wrap around her.

“Because I know exactly what I do to you.”

Elena swallowed.

Her thighs shifted unconsciously, pressing together slightly, like her body was reacting before she could stop it.

Ari caught it.

Of course he did.

A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips.

“See?” he murmured.

Her cheeks flushed deeper.

“You’re watching too closely,” she said.

“Always,” he replied.

Her breath hitched again.

“And if I was there…” he continued, slower now, dragging every word out, “you wouldn’t be sitting so still pretending you’re fine.”

Elena let out a shaky breath.

“I’m not pretending—”

“You are,” he cut in quietly. “Your body’s giving you away.”

That sent a visible shiver through her.

“Ari…”

“You’d be restless,” he went on, voice thick with restraint. “Moving… trying to deal with it.”

Her fingers curled tighter.

“And you wouldn’t let me?” she asked, almost a challenge now.

Ari’s eyes darkened.

“No.”

The answer came instantly.

Firm.

“You’d deal with it my way.”

Her breath caught sharply.

“And what’s your way?” she whispered.

Ari tilted his head slightly, studying her like he was already picturing it.

“My way,” he said slowly, “is making sure you feel it properly.”

Elena’s chest rose and fell faster now.

“Feel what?” she asked, even though she knew.

He didn’t soften it.

“Me in your spine.”

The word landed heavy.

"Oh my," she breathed out.

“You’d be trying to stay composed,” he continued, voice rough now. “Just like you are right now… but you wouldn’t be able to.”

Her eyes fluttered for a second.

“And you’d enjoy that?” she asked.

Ari let out a low breath.

“Watching you lose that control?” he said. “Yes.”

Something in her expression shifted then.

Less shy.

More curious.

More willing.

“…what else?” she asked, her voice quieter—but inviting.

That did it.

Ari’s jaw flexed, his restraint thinning.

“You don’t stop, do you?” he muttered.

She shook her head slowly.

“No.”

A small, dangerous smile touched his lips.

“Careful,” he said. “You keep asking like that… and you’re not going to like how far I take it.”

Her breath hitched.

“Maybe I will.”

Silence.

Thick.

Charged.

Ari stared at her like he was weighing something.

Then—

“Then you’d be exactly where I want you,” he said quietly.

Elena didn’t respond.

Couldn’t.

Because the way he said it—

It wasn’t just talk anymore.

It was control.

And she felt it.

Even from miles away.

Three days later.

Ari was sitting in his office when the message came through.

Airport Arrival: Confirmed.

The system Matteo maintained quietly tracked certain things — Elena’s flights among them. Ari never asked for the updates directly, but every morning and night the notifications came.

Her departures.

Her arrivals.

Proof she was safe.

Proof she was still moving between the hotel and the federal office.

It reassured him more than he liked to admit.

They spoke every day.

Morning calls.

Late-night conversations.

Sometimes video.

Sometimes just quiet breathing between sentences when neither of them wanted to hang up.

And every time they talked, Ari found the tension easing a little more.

He trusted her.

Completely.

If Elena had kept herself guarded this long in life — careful with her heart, careful with her choices — he had nothing to worry about. And tomorrow when she returned he would show her she had nothing to be scared about.

Still…

The penthouse had stayed quiet.

Too quiet.

A knock came at the office door.

Ari didn’t look up from the file in front of him.

“Come in.”

The door opened softly.

He continued reading for another moment.

Then something shifted in the room.

A presence.

A familiarity he recognized instantly but hadn’t expected.

Ari looked up.

And froze.

Elena stood in the doorway.

Her travel bag hung lightly from her shoulder, and her hair fell loosely around her face the way it had the day she left.

But she looked brighter now.

Radiant.

Like the entire week of distance had somehow sharpened her presence instead of dulling it.

For a moment neither of them moved.

Then Ari stood slowly from his chair.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”

Elena’s lips curved into a small smile.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Ari walked around the desk toward her, his gaze still fixed on her face as if making sure she was actually standing there.

“You succeeded.”

She laughed softly.

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

He stopped a step away from her.

Close enough to see the faint tiredness from travel in her eyes.

Close enough to notice the way she was watching him just as carefully.

“You should have warned me.”

“Why?”

“So I could have met you at the airport.”

“I know how to take a car.”

“That wasn’t the point.”

Her smile softened.

“I wanted to see your face when you realized I was back.”

Ari studied her for another moment.

Then finally reached for her.

His hand slid gently around the back of her neck, pulling her closer until she rested lightly against his chest.

He exhaled slowly.

“You’re home.”

Elena’s arms wrapped around him without hesitation.

“Yes.”

For the first time in eight days—

The distance between them was gone.

Elena barely had time to steady herself after stepping inside before Ari’s hands were on her.

Not rushed—

But certain.

Like he had been waiting too long.

His mouth found hers immediately, and the kiss—

It wasn’t gentle.

It was the kind that came from distance. From missing someone so deeply it settled into your bones. The kind that said everything neither of them had managed to put into words over the past days apart.

Elena gasped softly against his lips, her hands rising instinctively to his chest, gripping his shirt like she needed to anchor herself.

He didn’t let her pull away.

Didn’t give her the chance.

Ari’s hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her there as he deepened the kiss, slower now—but heavier. More deliberate. Like he was reminding himself she was real. That she was finally here.

Her body softened into his, the tension she’d carried all week unraveling all at once.

“I missed you,” she breathed, barely pulling back.

Ari’s forehead pressed against hers for half a second, his breath uneven.

“I know,” he murmured.

But then his lips were back on hers again, like even that brief space between them was too much.

There was nothing careful about it now.

Nothing restrained.

His hands moved over her like he needed to feel every part of her again—her arms, her waist, pulling her closer until there was no distance left between them.

Like the days apart hadn’t just been time—

They had been something to survive.

Elena’s fingers slid into his hair, holding him there, kissing him back with the same urgency, the same need.

Because it wasn’t just him.

She had felt it too.

The absence.

The pull.

The way he stayed in her thoughts no matter how far she went.

And now—

Standing there in his space, wrapped in him again—

It felt like nothing else existed.

No distance.

No questions.

No hesitation.

Just him.

Just her.

And the way they came undone the moment they were back in each other’s arms.

Ari’s hand lingered on the back of her neck, fingers brushing against the soft strands of her hair.

He stepped closer, letting the warmth of his body press gently against hers. Her eyes lifted to meet his, wide and luminous, as if she was seeing him for the first time after the long week apart.

Slowly, deliberately, he guided her toward the large floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. The glass was cool under his fingers, and he pressed his palm against it, the contrast between the chill of the surface and the heat radiating from her body making him acutely aware of every inch of her.

“Don’t move,” he murmured softly, voice low and controlled, though his heart beat faster than it had in days.

Elena blinked, but didn’t step back. She only leaned slightly into him, her arms brushing along his chest.

Ari let his fingers trace the condensation forming on the glass from the cool night air inside. Then, almost instinctively, he pressed his forehead against hers. The mist on the glass left a faint mark beneath his hand.

Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward, his lips brushing hers. The kiss was slow at first—testing, tasting, lingering.

Elena tilted her head, letting her lips part just slightly, and Ari deepened it. His hand moved down to her waist, pulling her a little closer, feeling the soft curve of her against him. Her arms went around his neck, fingers threading into his hair, holding him in place.

The world outside the window blurred. The city lights became soft streaks against the night, irrelevant compared to the heat of her body pressed against his.

Ari’s lips moved with hers, slow and insistent, tasting every nuance he had missed over the week apart. When he pulled back slightly, her breath mingled with his, eyes half-lidded, flushed and radiant.

“Missed you,” he whispered, voice husky, barely audible over the faint hum of the city below.

Elena’s lips curved into a soft, shy smile. “I missed you too.”

He kissed her again, this time longer, letting the quiet urgency of the week apart dissolve into the intimacy of the moment. Hands, lips, breath, warmth—all of it tangled in the space between them.

And for the first time since her flight, Ari didn’t want to let go.

Not now. Not ever.

The glass fogged further beneath the pressure of their bodies, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was that she was home—and finally, completely, in his arms.