BETROTHED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

Ryan’s POV

After making a mess of her hair, she stares at me, giving me the impression that she wants to get drunk on purpose.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off her. She looks more and more beautiful every day and I can’t wait to make her mine.

Fred is a fool for letting go of her. But I am grateful he left her.

For me.

When she embraced me, I almost lost all my sense of thinking by doing unthinkable things to get lips and every part of her body. But she pulled away before I could summon up the courage to do anything.

We came home and she suggested we drink wine together.

I asked the maids to set my room and they did so, a round table separating Valerie’s chair and me. There are two glasses of wine on the table with the wine bottle. A plate of snacks is also on the table, close to her glass of wine.

When I shift my attention away from the almost empty plate, I find her watching me too.

“Ryan”, she calls, twirling her hair away with her hand. “You said you love me.”

She gulps the wine, then grabs the bottle to pour more into the glass cup.

“You are drunk!” I say to her, taking the bottle away from her. I just want to enjoy drinking this in the comfort of our home. The purpose is not to get drunk.

“Of course not”, she denies and tries to take the bottle away from me. I resist and hold onto the bottle tightly.

“You’ve had enough”, I say to her, succeeding in taking it away from her. Quietly, I drop the bottle beside me on the floor, then take a sip of the wine from my glass cup.

“Ryan”, she points a finger at me, swaying like someone who is about to sleep. “You said you love me, right?”

Her drunkenness and the attitude that comes with it are cute and exciting but I don’t want to get my hopes high by her statement tonight. She always behaves this way whenever she is drunk and it makes me get my hopes high for nothing.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

I just want to drink and go to bed.

There is one more thing to do and that is an afternoon picnic. If that is done and she is still aloof, then I won’t do anything anymore.

I have done my best.

“Ryan!” she screams, rising from her chair instantly, startling me. “Won’t you answer me?” she sobs. “You said you love me, right? You said you wanted to show me how much you love me but why aren’t you doing anything?”

I watch her in amazement. First, at the outburst, secondly, at the question, and thirdly at her behavior.

This is overboard.

What I did for 30 minutes outside the confines of our home is not enough to show her how much I love her. What then does she want from me? What more does she want?

She belches loudly and slumps back into her seat, packing her hair with her hand and letting go of them again. She relaxes her head on the edge of the chair and belches again, more loudly.

A sob jerks me back to life.

“You don’t love me. If you do, you will show me how much you love me, not by sitting there watching me like a…” she belches more satisfactorily and suddenly goes silent.

I almost think she has fallen asleep until she hoists her head up to meet my gaze.

With a deep sigh, I rise from the chair and walk towards the dispenser to get her some water. She gets drunk so easily and it’s amusing and annoying.

It’s amusing because she acts funny when drunk but it is also annoying because I don’t want to attach any importance to whatever she says when drunk.

I go back to where she is sitting with her two hands sitting on her jaw.

“Here, take this!” I tell her as I drop the water on the table in front of her.

When I move away to go back to my seat, she takes hold of my hand.

“Ryan, don’t you love me?” Her voice stirs up a thing in me and I feel hard watching her struggle to get up to my height without letting go of my hand.

As she gets up, her firm becomes stronger.

“Show me how much you love me, please”, she pouts when she is up to my height. “Please.”

How does she expect me to show her how much I love her? What else does she want?

Clenching my fist to prevent me from doing something we might both regret, I remember how she freaked out the other day when she got drunk and kissed me.

“Kiss me”, she orders pushing her lips further for me to take. They are full and inviting. I’m sure as hell that they taste sweet just like how attractive they look.

Sliding a hand around my neck region, she pulls me closer, her chest hitting my upper body but doing a lot of wonders to my below.

“Please”, she pushes her lips further, with her eyes closed.

With every strength and determination left in me, I try to take her hands off me but she flutters her eyes open, making her hold on my neck stronger.

Thinking of how best to get her off me, I take a step backward so I can put her back on the chair before escaping.

Escaping all of this.

This temptation. This tension. The frustration that comes with not having her.

With a loud hiss escaping her lips, she parts her lips and grabs me closer to her as her body hits the table, making her rest on it, her dress riding up to her thighs.

My gaze rests on her exposed thighs before I shift them to her beautiful eyes. A blush creeps to her face and I wonder if she is acting up or if she is indeed drunk.

“Val…”

“Hush”, she shuts me up with the tip of her index finger, pulls me closer, and hugs me. My face goes down to the crook of her neck because I don’t want to be tempted to kiss her and I want to think of a way to escape this.

Instead, a whiff of the sweet smell of perfume fills my nostril and I find myself shifting and digging my head more into her neck region to get more of the scent.

A low moan escapes her and it drives me over the edge as I raise her dress up to expose more of her thighs.

Waving away the impulse to resist the temptation, I grab her head roughly which is thrown back, and slam my lips to hers, tasting the sweetness of her full lips.

She cradles her legs around my waist, making me move closer. She tastes of the wine.

I delve my tongue further into her mouth and she responds at the same pace. With my hand still on her jaw as we make out on the table, I slide my hand down her boobs, squeezing it to get a reaction from her.

She gasps, her mouth leaving mine, making me realize what we are doing.

“Val”, I call out but she grabs me again and takes my lips before I can say move.

My heart beats faster than ever before and my emotions take over my thinking as I carry her off the table and move over to the bed.

She wants this too.

She is drunk, my subconscious mentions and I stop halfway to the bed.

“Ryan”, she takes a look at me with curiosity. “Why did you stop?”

“Val, you are drunk. We should stop this already. I should..”

“No!” she almost shouts immediately, shaking her head intermittently. “I’m not drunk. I want this.”

“What? You do?” I am shocked to the bones. Does she really know what she is doing and what we are about to do right now?

I shake my head and try to get her down but her legs are still tightly wrapped around me.

“Don’t drop me, please”, she begins to sob again, throwing her head backward like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Valerie..”

She jumps down from my hold and grabs my tie, unloosens it, then kisses me with urgency, her hands working their way to my zip.

Her mouth on mine isn’t giving me a chance to say more. I want this more than she does but I don’t want any of us to regret this after the deed is done. This is what I have always dreamt of.

Her acceptance.

She isn’t saying anything yet and I don’t know what to make of this sudden attraction.

She falls on the bed and I fall right on top of her, kissing her with more vigor. When she finally unzips my trouser, I look up at her.

“Do you want this?” I question again for the umpteenth time.

Without a word, she nods vigorously and resumes kissing me as I work my way towards getting our clothes off and doing what I have always dreamt of doing to her.