Deep Consuming Addiction

Chapter 73

✨What He Does to Her✨

Ari Darven

Ari stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, the city stretching endlessly beneath him—alive, loud, moving.

And yet—

None of it held his attention.

His glass sat untouched on the desk behind him, files open, numbers waiting, decisions lined up exactly where he had left them.

But his mind—

Was nowhere in this room.

Elena.

The name alone was enough.

He exhaled slowly, jaw tightening as he dragged a hand down his face. He had built his life on control. Precision. Discipline. Nothing slipped through his hands unless he allowed it to.

And yet she had.

Without force.

Without demand.

She had slipped into every space he thought was secured.

Ari turned from the window abruptly, pacing once across the office like movement might shake her from his thoughts.

It didn’t.

If anything—

It made it worse.

He could still hear her voice from earlier. The hesitation. The way she tried to steady herself when she spoke to him. The way she said his name like it carried more weight than it should.

His hand curled into a fist briefly before he forced it open again.

“She’s not even here,” he muttered under his breath.

And still—

She consumed him.

Not like the distractions he had known before. Not like the temporary indulgences that filled space without meaning anything.

No.

This was different.

Deeper.

She lingered.

In his mind.

In his space.

In the silence.

Like something he couldn’t put down even if he wanted to.

Ari let out a quiet, almost humorless breath.

“I don't know how I made it through this week,” he said to himself, shaking his head slightly.

But there was no real frustration behind it.

Just truth.

Because what he felt wasn’t irritation.

It was need.

A slow, steady pull that didn’t demand—but never let go either.

A deep consuming addiction.

And the worst part?

He didn’t want to fight it.

Ari moved back to his desk, picking up the glass and taking a slow drink this time, letting the burn settle in his chest.

It didn’t help.

Didn’t distract.

Didn’t replace the way her absence filled every quiet space around him.

His phone sat just inches away.

Silent.

But heavy with the possibility of her.

Ari stared at it for a second too long.

Then looked away.

Because if he picked it up—

He already knew he’d call her again.

And that—

That was exactly the problem.

---

Ari leaned back slightly in his chair, the city lights of Main Hesse stretching beyond the glass behind him. The office was quiet now—most had left hours ago—but he hadn’t.

He rarely did this week.

His phone rested in his hand for a moment before he called her.

She answered quickly.

“Hello.”

Ari’s gaze softened just slightly.

“Elena.”

A pause.

“You’re still at work?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You never leave that office.”

“I do.”

“When?”

“When you’re here.”

A small silence followed, then a soft exhale from her end.

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Yes.”

He heard the faint shift in her movement—fabric against sheets.

She was in bed.

Alone.

He didn’t like that.

“When are you done?” he asked.

“With what?”

“Carolina.”

She laughed quietly.

“That’s not something I can just be done with.”

“You can.”

“Ari—”

“When.”

She sighed softly.

“Two more days.”

Ari leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the desk.

“That’s too long.”

“It’s work.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like anything that takes me away from you.”

“Yes.”

Another small pause.

“You’re very honest about that.”

“Yes.”

He let the silence stretch just enough before speaking again, his voice lower now.

“Carolina is taking too much of your time.”

Elena laughed again, softer this time.

“You sound jealous of a location.”

“I am.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No.”

She shifted again, and he pictured her turning onto her side, holding the phone closer.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said.

“Soon isn’t now.”

“You’re whining.”

Ari didn’t deny it.

“Yes.”

She laughed again, more openly now.

“You’re actually whining.”

“Yes.”

“That’s new.”

“No.”

“It is.”

“It’s you.”

That quieted her.

Just slightly.

He continued.

“You should be here.”

“With you in your office at midnight?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds very exciting.”

“It is.”

“How?”

“You’d be here.”

She huffed softly.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re still there.”

“I have work.”

“You always have work.”

“So do you.”

A small pause.

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I don’t leave.”

She smiled—he could hear it.

“That’s not the argument you think it is.”

Ari leaned back again, his gaze drifting briefly to the empty space across from him.

It would be easier if she were there.

It always was.

“Two days,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know.”

“Come back early.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Ari.”

A beat.

“No.”

He exhaled slowly.

“Carolina is interfering.”

“With what?”

“With you being here.”

She laughed again, softer now.

“You sound like you’re competing with a place.”

“I am.”

“And losing.”

“Yes.”

That made her go quiet for a second.

Then—

“I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

Ari’s expression shifted slightly.

“How?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Think about it.”

“I will.”

Another pause.

Then his voice softened, just a fraction.

“I don’t like you being that far.”

Her tone matched his now.

“I know.”

“Come back.”

“I will.”

“Soon.”

“Yes.”

Silence settled between them again.

Not empty.

Just… full.

Ari let it sit for a moment before speaking one last time.

“Baby.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t get used to being away from me.”

A soft breath left her.

“I won’t.”

And that—

That was enough.

For now.

---

The video call connected with a soft click.

For a moment the screen stayed dark.

“Elena,” Ari said calmly, leaning back in his chair.

On the other side of the screen he heard movement. The faint rustle of fabric. A door closing.

“I just came out of the bathroom,” her voice came through.

“That’s not a problem.”

“Yes it is.”

Ari’s eyebrow lifted slightly.

“Elena.”

“I’m not presentable.”

“I’ve seen you in worse situations.”

“You have not.”

“I’ve seen you in my shirt and nothing else.”

There was a pause.

“Ari.”

Her voice had that soft warning tone he had started recognizing.

“Put on your camera.”

“No.”

“Elena.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the desk.

“Put on the camera.”

She sighed dramatically.

“Ari…”

He waited.

Another moment passed.

Then the screen flickered.

“There you are,” he said quietly.

Elena appeared on the screen wrapped in a white hotel robe, her hair twisted up in a towel. Her skin was still slightly flushed from the shower, and a few damp strands had escaped along her neck.

She crossed her arms slightly.

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re hiding.”

“I am not hiding.”

“You refused to turn the camera on.”

“Because I look ridiculous.”

“You look exactly like someone who just stepped out of the shower.”

Her cheeks colored faintly.

“That’s not reassuring.”

Ari watched her for a moment, studying the way the hotel lamp lit the side of her face.

“You look beautiful baby.”

The words came easily.

Too easily.

Elena blinked slightly.

“You say that like you mean it.”

“I do.”

She shook her head a little, clearly embarrassed by the attention.

“You’re very bold tonight.”

“You’re very far away.”

That made her soften slightly.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the robe tighter around herself.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“Long.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s accurate.”

“And tonight?”

“Less interesting than watching you argue about a camera.”

Elena rolled her eyes.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I am.”

They talked like that for nearly an hour.

Small things.

Her meetings.

His work.

The city she was still getting used to.

And sometimes nothing important at all.

Just the quiet comfort of seeing each other.

Eventually she yawned.

Ari noticed immediately.

“You’re tired.”

“I’ve been up since six.”

“You should sleep.”

“You should too.”

“Probably.”

But neither of them ended the call right away.

---

It was Friday at last.

Ari braced his hands against the counter, water still dripping from his hair, his chest rising and falling slower now—but not steady.

Not even close.

The moment he stepped out and looked at the bed—

It hit him again.

Harder.

“Elena,” he muttered, already reaching for his phone.

She didn’t hesitate this time.

Her face appeared on the screen almost immediately.

Like she had been waiting.

Her hair was loose, falling around her shoulders, her eyes soft but tired. There was something in her expression—something that eased him and made everything worse at the same time.

She smiled faintly when she saw him.

“You look…” she paused, taking him in, the damp skin, the tension still in his shoulders. “…like you just got out the shower.”

“I did.”

Her eyes lingered.

He saw it.

The way her gaze moved—not shy, just… curious. Wanting.

And that was all it took.

Ari leaned back slightly, resting against the wall, his voice lower now.

“Long day?” he asked.

Elena closed her eyes briefly, lifting her hand to her shoulder and squeezing it, like she was trying to press the tension out of her own body.

She nodded.

He watched the movement carefully.

The way her fingers pressed in.

The way her head tilted slightly.

“If I was there…” he said slowly, voice deepening, “you wouldn’t be doing that yourself.”

Her eyes opened again, landing on him.

Something shifted.

“What would you do?” she asked quietly.

Ari’s jaw tightened slightly.

There it was.

That edge.

He pushed off the wall, moving a little closer to the camera, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel like he was right there with her.

“I’d stand behind you first,” he said. “Right where you can’t see me properly… but you’d feel me.”

Elena swallowed.

Her fingers stilled on her shoulder.

“I’d move your hair out of the way,” he continued, slower now, deliberate. “Just enough to get to your neck.”

Her breath changed.

He heard it.

Saw it.

“And then?” she whispered.

Ari’s eyes darkened slightly.

“My hands would take over,” he said. “Firm. Not gentle at first. I’d work the tension out properly… make you feel it.”

Elena shifted slightly on her bed, her knees pulling in just a little, like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“You’d like that?” he asked.

She nodded slowly.

“Yes…”

Ari exhaled quietly.

“I know you would.”

His voice softened for a second—but only slightly.

“Then I’d slow it down,” he added. “Once you start relaxing… once you stop thinking.”

Elena’s lips parted.

“And you’d stop?” she asked, almost testing him.

Ari gave a low, quiet chuckle.

“No.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly.

“I didn’t think so,” she murmured.

He watched her closely now.

Every reaction.

Every shift.

“I’d keep going,” he said. “But not just your shoulders anymore. My hands would move.down your back, my fingers down your spine and move lower.”

Her breath hitched.

“Ari…”

“You asked,” he reminded her calmly.

She didn’t stop him.

Didn’t look away.

“What else?” she whispered.

That did something to him.

The way she said it—soft, but wanting.

Curious.

Ari’s grip tightened slightly on the edge of the counter.

“I’d take my time with you,” he said, voice rougher now. “Make you forget about your day… about everything.”

Elena’s fingers curled slightly into the sheets beside her.

“How?” she asked, barely above a breath.

Ari held her gaze.

“By not rushing,” he said. “By making sure every second… you’re aware of me.”

Her eyes fluttered for a moment.

And that—

That nearly broke his control again.

“You’re blushing,” he pointed out quietly.

“I am not,” she said quickly, even as her cheeks betrayed her.

Ari smirked faintly.

“You are.”

She looked away for a second, then back at him, something softer—bolder—settling into her expression.

“…and if you were really here?” she asked.

Ari didn’t answer immediately.

Didn’t soften it.

“If I was there,” he said slowly, “you wouldn’t be asking me what I’d do.”

Her breath caught again.

“Why?”

His voice dropped lower.

“Because I’d already be doing it.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Charged.

Elena stared at him, her chest rising and falling a little faster now.

And for a moment—

Neither of them spoke.

They didn’t need to.

Because the distance between them—

Didn’t feel so far anymore.