Deep Consuming Addiction

Chapter 83

✨Fever Between Us✨

Elena Vale

"Oh my God," she mumbled to herself can't believing it feels this good.

Elena’s body pressed against him, every nerve alive. She could feel the way he responded to her, a pulse of heat that made her head spin. His presence filled her completely, and she trembled under the weight of wanting him.

She leaned into him, lips brushing, breaths mingling, hands moving over him as if she could memorize every inch by touch alone. The tension between them was electric—each glance, each brush of skin a silent command.

Ari groaned low, rough and unrestrained, and it made her chest tighten. She shivered as he leaned closer, the scent, the warmth, the promise of him overwhelming her senses. Her heart raced, her breath hitched, and it was impossible to think of anything else but him.

Even without words, without moving beyond the edge, it was more than enough. The fire between them threatened to consume everything else, leaving only their shared need, their hunger, their connection.

Then his mouth was on her breast, slow, deliberate, his body settling over hers again—warm, solid, there.

She felt surrounded by him.

Not trapped.

Not taken.

Held.

“Ari…” she whispered again, softer this time.

He pressed a kiss just below her shoulder. “I’ve got you,” he murmured.

Elena moaned, her grip on the sheets tightened.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured again—but his voice wasn’t as steady this time.

Elena felt it pressure building hot in the pit of her stomach. Her toes curl knowing exactly what was coming and he seemed to know too because he began to move faster.

The shift.

It was still him—still careful, still watching her—but something underneath had changed. Something tighter. Thinner. Like whatever control he was holding onto was starting to strain.

Her body reacted before her thoughts did.

“You feel that?” he asked, his voice rougher now, deeper. “Tell me you feel that.”

She nodded, her fingers clutching the sheets beneath her. “I do… I—”

"Speak up Elena, I can't hear you," he taunted knowing well she was barely holding on.

"Yess," her words broke off as he moved again—still controlled, but no longer as slow. Not hesitant anymore. Her hip rolled against him chasing her own orgasm.

Intentional.

Focused.

"Where do you feel me," he taunted speeding up.

"Ooh my."

"Tell me," he asked again.

A sharp inhale followed by a slow, shaky release, "In my... stomach."

His forehead pressed between her shoulders for a second, his breath hot against her skin like he was fighting himself, like he was trying to stay in that careful place he started in.

But Elena didn’t want careful anymore.

She shifted back into him—just slightly, but enough.

Enough to undo him.

A low sound left his chest, almost a warning.

“Don’t do that unless you mean it,” he said, his voice strained now.

She looked up into his eyes—his jaw tight, eyes dark, restraint barely holding.

“I mean it,” she whispered.

That was the moment it broke.

Not into something careless.

But into something hungry.

His control disappear—it fractured. Became something sharper, more urgent. His movements lost their hesitation, finding a rhythm that was deeper, more consuming, like he couldn’t stay still even if he tried.

Her body responded without hesitation — arching closer, hands gripping, breath uneven.

He watched her as she rode her orgasm out, legs trembling around his waist and chest heaving up and down.

Ari shifted. "I wish you could've seen yourself, you're so sexy." he told her hovering over her again barley giving her time to catch her breath.

"You will have to give me some more of that," he smirked at her.

Elena smiled faintly.

He rubbed himself against her entrance, she was drenched.

This wasn’t rushed hunger.

It was months of restraint unraveling.

When he finally pulled her fully against him, she felt the shift completely — not just physical closeness, but emotional. He wasn’t hiding behind composure anymore.

Neither was she.

As he slid into her, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he had to hold still. "You are so damn tight baby," he groaned picking up his stroke.

Elena put her hand over her mouth, "Elena let me hear you," he demanded.

For the first time since they met, there was no strategic positioning. No walls. No testing.

Just two people who had circled each other long enough.

Instead, she leaned up and kissed him this time.

Certain.

The authority in his voice just as he hit her spot made her arched against him.

His hand tightened slightly at her waist in response. "Oh ooh, right there," she encouraged.

"Right here? baby..." he spoke lowly to her.

"Yesss." she cried out and he started slamming it in her.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

It wasn't controlled.

"I have never been in something this good," he groaned.

A slow, deliberate push that stole the air from her lungs and replaced it with something heavier. His hands braced on either side of her, holding himself steady, holding her steady — as if he wanted her to feel every inch of the moment.

Her walls clenched around him and he bit his lip at her beginning to rolled her hip against him.

Ari grip her waist tightly. Elena was below him moan flying out freely and feeling purely euphoric.

He looked at her.

Not her body first.

Her face.

Her eyes widened slightly, lips parted in a sharp inhale she couldn’t hide. A flicker of vulnerability crossed her expression — surprise, surrender, need — and he watched it all without blinking.

Then his gaze dropped to her mouth.

To the way her lower lip trembled before she caught it between her teeth.

His jaw tightened.

That look — that reaction — did something to him. Something darker than desire. It wasn’t just about pleasure. It wasn't about control. About knowing he was the one pulling those expressions from her.

They were electric.

When his hand traced down her side, slow and exploratory, her breath caught. He noticed instantly.

“You’re okay?” he asked.

She nodded, swallowing.

“Yes.”

He brushed his thumb along her cheek gently, grounding her before continuing. Every touch was deliberate. Every movement is intentional. He wasn’t taking.

He was choosing.

And so was she.

She let her hands explore him too — not shy, not uncertain anymore. Feeling the strength beneath his skin. The tension he was trying to control.

Elena didn't know what it was supposed to feel like but she knew this felt really good. His skin against hers felt good and although he was a bit rough now hitting that spot she said feels good he was making her feel like she was floating.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered softly.

He gave the faintest half-smile.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.”

The honesty of that made her chest tighten.

“So have I,” she admitted.

The air between them thickened — not with chaos, but with something steady. A decision finally acted upon.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, voice hoarse.

“Ari…” her voice trembled now, from the way everything felt like it was building too fast, too much.

He heard it immediately.

Always.

His hand slid up her back, steadying her, grounding her even as his own control slipped further.

“Stay with me,” he muttered against her skin, almost more to himself than to her. “Wait for me baby.”

"Oh goodness, Ari... baby... "

And the way he talked to her made her wetter by the second.

That seemed to push him further.

"Hold it, hold it for me baby," he muttered and she felt herself losing all composure.

" I can'tttt," she whined shaking against him.

"Yes you can, you're doing so well," Ari encouraged her in a husky voice.

"Ari." His name slipping from her lips in a hushed, almost pleading tone.

His mouth pressed harder against her shoulder, not soft anymore—still not rough enough to hurt. His breath uneven now, his body no longer asking permission the way it had before—but still listening.

Elena felt it—the difference.

The way he wasn’t holding back as much.

Not just to take care of her.

But to have her.

Her body responded in kind, her back arching slightly, her hands searching for something to hold onto—him, the sheets, anything.

“Ari—” his name broke from her again, louder this time, unguarded.

And that sound—

That was it.

His restraint snapped the rest of the way—not into recklessness, but into something rawer, deeper. His movements became more driven, his breath uneven, his control no longer about holding back—but about not overwhelming her.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, but it barely sounded like a question anymore.

“It’s not…” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

And when she shivered beneath him again, when her breath hitched in that same way as before—he slowed, just for a second, just enough to make sure—

“You’re okay?” he asked, voice low, strained but still there.

Elena nodded, breathless. “Yes…”

That was all he needed.

His lips found hers again, his grip tightening just slightly to hold onto something real as everything between them turned overwhelming.

For both of them.

And this time—

He didn’t try to hold back anymore.

Her mind was staying strong but her body, her body fall apart. Undid itself in a mess of moans and shaking.

Ari’s hands held her as if letting go was impossible, like every part of him was rooted in her presence. His lips brushed along her neck and shoulder, his voice low and husky against her skin.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

Elena’s chest tightened at the words. Every part of her that had ever doubted herself seemed to melt under the attention, under the care in his voice.

“I’ve never…” she whispered, unsure how to describe the storm of feelings inside her. “I’ve never felt like this.”

“You’re mine,” Ari said softly, his forehead resting against hers. “Mine to protect, to care for, to adore. No one else gets this, no one else gets you like this.”

The way he looked at her—fully present, fully intent on making her feel seen—made her chest ache. She felt raw, exposed, yet safer than she had ever felt in her life.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his hands cupping her face gently. “I want you to see yourself through my eyes. You’re everything… more than everything.”

Elena’s lips trembled as tears threatened to spill, from the intensity of being treasured, finally, fully, without pretense or conditions.

A soft whimper she tries—and fails—to hold back leave her lips.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered again, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Every part of you. Every thought, every breath, every smile. You deserve to feel adored, and I’ll make sure you do.”

His movements lost that teasing edge and became something heavier, more urgent. Not careless—but driven. Like he’d been holding this back for far too long and didn’t have the strength—or the desire—to stop anymore.

His breathing grew uneven, matching hers now.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his thrust—more than just physical, more than desire—it was connection.

Elena let herself fully melt into him—not just in body, but in heart. Every doubt, every fear, every hesitation dissolved under the weight of his care, his reverence. She had never felt so seen, so wanted, so utterly, undeniably important.

Because in that moment, he wasn’t just inside her body.

He was inside her control.

And he had no intention of giving it back.

Ari, in that moment, wasn’t just loving her—he was worshipping her existence. Every shiver, every whispered word, every look was meant to make her feel special, adored, and irreplaceable.

A sharp inhale followed by a slow, shaky release.

The room blurred into warmth and closeness — whispered breaths, tangled sheets, hands that learned and reassured. It wasn’t frantic.

It was consuming in the quietest way.

Ari felt it slipping.

That tight control he carried everywhere—into meetings, into conversations with his father, into every decision—was thinning with every breath she took against him.

“Elena…” her name dragged out of him, rougher now.

And Ari was right behind her, he pulled out and released onto her thigh. Elena lay back and he collapsed right beside her trying to steady his breathing after how intense they had just been.

And when they finally stilled — breath slowing, hearts still racing — she lay against his chest, listening to it.

Strong.

Steady.

His fingers moved lazily along her back.

“You okay?” he murmured again.

She smiled faintly against his skin.

"More than okay."

For once, she didn’t feel like she was balancing two worlds.

She felt claimed.

Not owned.

Chosen.

And that difference mattered.