Her eyes fluttered for one dangerous second, and when she opened them again, she looked angry at herself for reacting. Phei’s mouth curved, but he did not tease her:

Because if he teased her, she could bite back. If he was gentle, she had no shield ready.

"You are enjoying this," she whispered.

"I am enjoying watching you remember you deserve this much of simple and genuine gestures, Adriana."

Her throat moved.

That hit too deep.

She looked down at him, at the boy, no, the man kneeling before her, his eyes lifted to her face, his mouth near her hand, his presence filling the room without crowding her. The old Phei she remembered had been quiet, looked down on, dismissed, the Charity Case she used to treat with sharpness, rude and harshly because it had been easy to be cruel from above.

Now he knelt before her like a prince choosing worship over arrogance, and the contradiction made something twist painfully behind her ribs.

"Why?" she asked; she could not help asking. It was strange that he was doing any of this given what she did to him.

Phei’s gaze softened slightly. "Why what?"

Her fingers trembled in his. "Why would you do any of this for me?"

He waited instead of answering.

Adriana swallowed, then forced the words out, quieter now, stripped of her usual bite. "When I always looked down on you."

The past sat between them, ugly and alive. Not enormous, perhaps, compared to the cosmic disasters that followed Phei like unpaid debt, but personal enough. Small cruelties were still cruelties. A dismissive glance. A cutting word. A door closed too quickly. A beautiful older woman looking at a lonely boy and deciding he was beneath the effort of kindness and instead treated him with rudeness when he’d never done anything to him.

Phei’s thumb brushed once over her knuckles.

"If I have your permission to do everything to you," he said, "then yes I will, that’s why I am doing this."

Adriana’s eyes widened faintly.

"That is the first answer," he continued.

"And the second?"

His smile thinned, not cruelly, but with memory beneath it. "Looking down on me is actually an understatement of what you did to me, Adriana."

Adriana flinched.

Phei saw it, he did not spare her the truth but he did not use it as a weapon either.

"That wound can be opened another day," he said. "Not today."

Her eyes searched his face.

"For today," he continued, voice lowering, "I am looking at a woman who has been ignored too long, touched too little, desired too poorly, and left to convince herself she no longer needed any of it."

Adriana’s lips parted.

Phei’s gaze lowered but not with careless hunger.

His eyes traced the line of her posture, the parted shape of her knees, the tension in her thighs beneath the fabric, the way her body had betrayed longing before her mouth could organize a defense.

Adriana followed his gaze and realized fully how she sat, how open she had become without meaning to, how much of her own hidden need had risen to the surface like a confession.

Her face burned hotter.

Then Phei looked back up.

And she saw the naked desire for her in his eyes that had no dull entitlement of a husband who had forgotten what reverence was and called habit intimacy.

Desire.

Focused entirely on her.

Wanting, clear and unapologetic, held in his eyes with enough restraint to make it safe and enough hunger to make it devastating. That was what she had been craving in a man’s eyes for years; not the half-dead glance of someone who had stopped seeing the woman before him.

She wanted to be looked at as if someone still thought her worth losing breath over.

And Phei looked at her exactly like that.

Adriana’s hand tightened around his.

"Phei," she whispered.

He bowed his head and kissed her hand again then his knees on either side.

Then he lifted his eyes, and his next words stole whatever remained of her composure.

"Tell me to stop," he said softly, "or let me spend the rest of this afternoon reminding you what it feels like to be wanted."

Adriana forgot how to breathe.

But Phei did not stop there.

His hand stayed warm around hers, thumb stroking slow, deliberate circles over her knuckles while his other hand rose to rest lightly on her knee; he did not squeeze and simply let his palm settle there, reading the way her thigh tensed beneath the fabric, the way her breath hitched, the way a fresh, undeniable wave of heat rolled off her skin.

The scent of her heightening arousal reached him again — rich, heady, unmistakably wet — and his cock stirred hard against his thigh as he inhaled it like a man tasting something forbidden and already addicted. He did not comment. He simply let the knowledge settle between them, let her feel that he knew exactly how wet she had become from nothing more than his hand on her knee and his eyes on her body.

Adriana’s thighs pressed together instinctively nearly trapping him. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her — half sigh, half whimper — as the pressure sent a pulse straight through her soaked pussy.

Her nipples tightened visibly against the fabric of her dress, the hard peaks clearly outlined, and the way she shifted in the chair made the hem ride a little higher on her thighs, exposing more of that smooth, warm skin that now carried the faint sheen of her own heat.

Phei’s thumb stroked once more across her knuckles, then he lifted her hand and pressed another slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her wrist. His lips lingered, his tongue brushed once, feather-light, tasting the frantic flutter of her pulse.

Adriana moaned softly — a broken, helpless sound that slipped past her lips before she could catch it — and her free hand flew to the edge of the chair, gripping it like she needed something to anchor her while her body betrayed her completely.

He could almost hear the sound her pussy as it clenched hard; he was sure another of her wetness had soaked through her panties and down the inside of one trembling thigh.

He looked up at her through dark lashes, eyes burning with something ancient and possessive.

"You are so fucking beautiful when you try to pretend you do not want this," he said, voice low and rough with sin. "Your body does not lie, Adriana. I can smell how wet you are for me. I can see how hard your nipples have gotten. I can feel the way your thighs are shaking. And I am going to spend every second of this afternoon making sure you never forget how good it feels to be looked at like this again — to be touched like this again — to be fucked again with a big cock that your body deserves!"

He kissed the inside of her wrist again, slower this time, then let his teeth graze the sensitive skin just enough to make her gasp and arch slightly in the chair. His other hand slid a fraction higher on her thigh — still respectful, still giving her every chance to stop him — but the warmth of his palm burned through the fabric like a brand, so close to the soaked heat between her legs that she could feel the promise of it.

Adriana’s legs trembled; another soft sigh-like moan escaped her, this one longer, needier, as the combination of his filthy words, his mouth on her skin, and the sheer presence of him kneeling between her parted knees undid something deep inside her.

Her pussy clenched hard this time around nothing and he was really sure he heard it, fresh wetness soaked through her panties and down the inside of one thigh, and she knew he could smell it even stronger now.

Her face burned crimson, but she could not look away from him.

She could not close her legs; Adriana could only sit there, trembling and exposed, while this man — this boy who had once been beneath her notice — made her wet with nothing but his hands, his mouth, and the devastating promise in his eyes.

Phei’s smile turned darker, bolder, sinfully promising.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured against her skin. "Let me remind every inch of this gorgeous body what it was made for. I want to spread these beautiful thighs and taste how wet you are for me. I want to feel your pussy clench around my tongue while you moan my name; my Hot Rude Neighbor. I want you dripping and shaking and begging before I even think about giving you my cock; the cock you didn’t know for this long that could satisfy and ruin you more than anything you’ve ever had — before I stretch you open and fill you until you can’t remember your own name."

He kissed the inside of her wrist one last time, then lifted his head and met her eyes with that same ancient hunger.

"Tell me to stop," he said again, voice steady and full of wicked control, "or let me ruin you in the best way possible."

Adriana forgot how to breathe.

*****

A/N: Three Chapters only for today guys, I am not so good today, but gifts could... you know...