Insatiable (Inferno Games #3)

18. I’ve Not Finished With You Yet

18

I’VE NOT FINISHED WITH YOU YET

ROWENA

M y rational side is telling me that what I’m doing is insane as I knock on Felix’s door and he opens it. My feminist side is shouting at me to run for the hills, but I’ve never seen such a look of angry desire on anyone’s face directed as it is at me before now and it’s intoxicating. I can’t move and words seem to be stuck somewhere between my brain and my throat. The memory of the night we spent in his room and how effing amazing it felt comes crashing back to me.

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I whisper, barely getting in enough air to string a coherent sentence together. The tension between us is palpable. Heat pools low in my stomach, and my breath quickens, becoming shallow and uneven. Every inch of my skin feels hypersensitive, like the air itself is charged and brushing against me. My pulse is racing, thudding in my chest, in my throat, and lower, in places I can’t ignore. I can feel my face growing warm, and a subtle, trembling ache spreads through me, making it impossible to stand still. And with all that happening inside me, I still don’t know what I’m doing.

“I did. I do.”

"Then why don't you?" I challenge, my voice barely above a rasp.

Felix's eyes darken, his gaze intensifying as he steps closer, closing the distance between us. His hand reaches out, fingers grazing my cheek before sliding into my hair, his grip gentle but firm. His presence is overwhelming, the heat of his body seeping into mine. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of him enveloping me - a heady mix of sandalwood and something uniquely Felix. My heart is hammering in my chest as he leans in, his lips just a breath away from mine.

Something flashes in his eyes, a mixture of hunger and disbelief. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. I part my lips instinctively, and his breath catches. "You're playing with fire," he warns.

"Maybe I like the burn," I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest.

A growl rumbles in his throat, and then his mouth is on mine. His kiss is searing, demanding, his lips moving against mine with a fierce intensity that steals my breath. I melt into him, my hands grasping at his shoulders, his back, anything to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth to tangle with mine. It's a duel for dominance, a clash of wills, and I surrender willingly, eager to be consumed by the inferno of his passion.

Somehow I’m either pulled into his room or I’m pushing him into it, but either way, I slam his door shut with my foot before we tumble to the bed.

Felix's hands roam over my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He grips my hips, hauling me against him, and I can feel the evidence of his desire pressing insistently against my stomach. A moan escapes me, swallowed by his greedy mouth. I arch into him, craving more, needing to be closer, to feel his skin against mine. He tears his mouth away, trailing hot, open- mouthed kisses along my collarbone. I move to pull the dress over my head, but he stops me with a hand. “Don’t. I like the fucking dress.”

“You told me earlier that you hated it,” I cry out breathlessly as he ducks under the hem of it.

“I lied,” he mumbles, finally tearing down my panties and flinging them across the room.

I thought I remembered what this felt like. I’ve played the moment Felix went down on me last time over and over in my mind like a broken record stuck on a loop, but as his tongue touches my clit, all those memories are blown out of the water.

I let out a gasp as Felix pushes me back onto the bed, the sudden movement sending a shockwave through my body. My head hits the soft comforter, and before I can catch my breath, he’s already lifting the skirt of my dress, throwing it up and over my head, leaving me exposed. My skin prickles, the cool air hitting my thighs, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off me.

His touch is firm, unyielding, and every nerve in my body is on fire. I grip the sheets beneath me, trying to anchor myself to something, anything, as my pulse races, and a soft moan escapes my lips.

My hips buck as I break apart round him and yet he doesn’t stop.

“Stop,” I pant out, almost squeaking out the words.

He doesn’t listen, but then when does Felix ever listen to anything I say?

“Stop,” I say again, this time louder. “Please!”

This time he does, pulling my dress from my face and giving me a look that only a man that knows he’s gotten exactly what he wants can have. He said he wanted me to beg him to stop and he got it, but I don’t want him to stop. I want more.

“Fuck me, Felix Barclay.”

His face goes hard. “I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

“You won’t,” I assure him, desperation in my voice.

“Then I’ll eff you all you want.”

Was that a joke? I open my mouth to ask, but the chance is stolen when he grabs my neck from underneath and roughly pulls me to him.

His lips crash against mine, demanding and insistent. I melt into his kiss, parting my lips to grant his probing tongue access. Felix's hand slides from my neck down my body, his fingers grazing the side of my breast before settling on my hip. He grips me tightly, pressing his arousal against my aching core.

I whimper into his mouth, my hands sliding under his shirt to trace the hard planes of his muscular back. Felix breaks the kiss and trails his lips along my jaw, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "You drive me wild," he growls, his hot breath fanning my ear. "I need to be inside you."

Coherent thoughts flee my mind as a fresh wave of desire crashes over me. I can only nod, frantic with need. Felix makes quick work of freeing himself from the confines of his pants.

Felix's piercing gaze never leaves mine as he positions himself between my thighs. With deliberate slowness, he runs the tip of his length along my slick folds, teasing me mercilessly. I arch my back, silently pleading for more.

With a primal growl, he thrusts into me, filling me completely in one powerful stroke. I cry out, my walls stretching to accommodate his impressive size. Felix sets a relentless pace, each deep plunge stoking the fire within me higher and higher.

I cling to his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh as he drives me closer to the edge. Felix's hand snakes between our joined bodies, his skilled fingers finding my most sensitive spot. Felix's fingers circle my sensitive nub in time with his deep thrusts, the dual sensations sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout my body. I can feel the coil within me winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

Felix pants, his rhythm growing more erratic. "Let go for me."

His words are my undoing. With a keening cry, I shatter around him, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over me. Felix follows me over the edge with a hoarse shout, spilling himself deep inside me.

We cling to each other as we slowly float down from our highs, our ragged breaths mingling in the charged air between us.

Well, I’ve done it again and this time I can’t blame alcohol or having a concussion. I can’t even blame the drugs the docs at the hospital wing gave me for pain because they are safely tucked away in my bag. I had sex with Felix Barclay for the simple reason that I wanted to… or insanity. If any of my friends ask, I’ll go with that excuse.

My friends. I close my eyes. I can’t tell them about this. Juliette already thinks I’m crazy for sleeping with him the first time, a theory I’m not sure I can dispel, and Quinn still thinks Felix is the reason she’s in Hell in the first place.

My eyes flutter open when Felix brushes a tender kiss against my temple. The sex felt inevitable. It was highly charged and in the moment, but the soft kiss on my head reminds me that things have changed between us. And I’m not sure how I feel about it. In an ideal world, having a man kiss me tenderly after wild and amazing sex is the dream, but with Felix doing it, it makes me fearful. He’s the father of my baby and yet, all I’ve ever known from him is months of hate and vitriol followed by two sex sessions and now a kiss on the head.

I turn to him and prop myself up on an elbow. His hair is messed up, making him appear almost human and not the put together, in control businessman I’m used to. He’s, dare I say it, cute. He looks happy. It’s not an emotion I’ve come to expect from Felix. “I almost miss the days where you hated me,” I admit. “It was kinda fun coming up with put downs.”

“I can call you a bitch if it makes you feel better.”

“Well, I still think you’re an asshole so go right ahead.”

He laughs and lays back, facing the ceiling, cradling his head in his hands.

Why does this feel so normal? There’s nothing normal about it. And yet it does. Still I can’t get the feeling out of my head that this is still some kind of joke or a game. And I’m not used to playing.

“Felix?”

“Mmm?”

“You lied to me about my dress.”

“Maybe a bit,” he offers, turning back to me again. He fingers the flowery sleeve between his fingers “They aren’t the type of thing I usually see on the women I used to hang out with, but your crazy dresses are growing on me. They remind me of you and I like that.”

It’s quite the admission coming from Felix. I’ll be the first to admit that the dresses I make are never going to be shown in any fashion magazines.

The dress lie was one thing, but now another weighs on my mind—one secret I can’t ignore any longer. I shouldn’t have come here, knowing this, but now that I am here, I need answers.

“What happened between you and Sylvia Rothwell?” I force the question out, every syllable laced with a dread that gnaws at me.

Felix freezes, and the color drains from his face as if he’s been struck. “How do you know about her?”

“You didn’t hide it as well as you thought. Did you force her to abort her child?” My voice wavers, but I keep my gaze locked on him, bracing myself. His expression is answer enough, and my stomach knots.

He sighs, rubbing his chin, looking older and more worn than I’ve ever seen him. “Sylvia Rothwell was my girlfriend. Well… one of many.”

“Of course,” I snap, bile rising as the anger coils around my heart.

“Do you want the truth or not?” His tone sharpens defensively. “You know I wasn’t exactly faithful when I was alive.”

I cross my arms, my expression unwavering. "Keep going."

He inhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’d been out of the country for months on business. She was doing modeling assignments, couldn’t join me. When I got back, she told me she was pregnant. But it wasn’t mine.”

I blink, my throat tightening. “It wasn’t your baby? Is that why you made her abort it?”

His shoulders sag, eyes flashing with hurt. “Is that what you think?” His voice drops to a whisper, raw. “No wonder you hate me. No, Ro. I didn’t make her abort it. She’d been with someone else—a well-known, very married Hollywood actor. The baby was his. He was the one who pressured her to end the pregnancy. Not me.”

I want to believe him, but something keeps me from falling completely into his words. “So what happened?”

“I offered to take care of her, of the baby. I even told her we’d say it was mine. But she wouldn’t do it. The timelines didn’t add up—I’d been gone, and people would have figured it out.” He sighs, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “So I gave her a massive sum of money, to help her and the baby. Her career was coming to an end, and she hated modeling anyway. She left, moved to Montana. Last I heard, she married a cowboy, had the baby, had more kids.”

“She had the baby?” My voice falters, doubt creeping in. “That’s not what she said in the interview.”

“What interview?” His face contorts with confusion, then softens with a weary smile. “Doesn’t matter. She probably made it up to protect herself or to get back at that actor. She was the top supermodel in the world before she disappeared; people wanted reasons. Maybe she spun that story because it was easier.”

“But I’d figured out it was you… she called him some rich egotistical asshole who got her pregnant.”

Felix chuckles softly, and it’s a strange, sad sound. “That’s why you thought it was me?” He lets out a wry laugh, shaking his head. “I deserve that, I guess. But no, Ro. Sylvia and I were friends in the end, nothing more. No abortion. I’ve done plenty wrong—I admit I avoided fatherhood, kept people at arm’s length. But with you…” His gaze softens, and he reaches a tentative hand toward my belly. “You were the first person I slept with without protection. I thought… I thought you couldn’t get pregnant.”

“But I did,” I whisper, emotion heavy in my chest.

His hand brushes my belly, gentle and reverent. “And I’m glad. I’m glad I’m the father, and I’m glad it’s you. It took someone like you to show me what really matters.”

His words strike me with fear so much worse than what I thought he’d done. He wants me. He wants the baby. Its unnerving and scary and downright terrifying. I don’t know if I can do this. I wasn’t expecting such raw honesty from Felix. I slip out of bed and retrieve my panties from the floor, feeling nervous now the flush of sex has cleared my head a bit. “I should probably go,” I explain as I put them on.

“I was hoping you might stay a while.”

Another admission. None of this feels real. Maybe I’ve slipped into an alternate reality.

Crazy sex fuelled by either desire or insanity is one thing. Hanging around for cuddles is something else entirely. It’s frightening and everything I’ve ever wanted all wrapped up together. I look up at him, scared what I might see in his expression.

Felix licks his lips as I dither by the bed, full of fear and uncertainty.

“Get your ass back in this bed Ro, and take those panties back off. I’ve not finished with you yet.