Chapter 192: What I Have to Do

PRIYA’S POV

The playful smirk on Adrian’s face vanished, replaced by an intensity so fierce it made the air in the narrow hallway thin out.

“Stand up,” he murmured in a thick and rough voice.

He didn’t wait for an answer.

He stood up, taking my hands and pulling me up with him until my back was pressed flat against the cool, off-white wall.

The contrast between the cold drywall against my shoulder blades and the radiating heat coming off his bare chest made every nerve ending in my body stand at attention.

Adrian reached for the oversized white dress shirt I had thrown on for the call.

With one slow tug, he pulled the fabric open. The buttons slid free with soft clicks, and he pushed the cotton off my shoulders, letting it flutter down to the runner rug beneath our feet.

His hands slid around to my back, easily unhooking the lace clasp of my bra.

He tossed it aside without looking, leaving me completely bare from the waist up.

His gaze dropped, tracking the rapid rise and fall of my chest in the dim light of the hallway sconce.

“You were so calm on that phone, Priya,” he whispered, stepping into my space until his bare chest brushed against my nipples. “Lying to your best friend with a straight face while my hands were all over you.”

“I did what I had to do,” I breathed, my fingers digging into his forearms.

“And now I’m going to do what I have to do,” he countered softly.

He leaned in, capturing my lips before I could fire back another sharp retort.

The kiss wasn’t fast, but it was deep and demanding, parting my lips and sweeping inside until my head swam.

He tasted like the rich Pinot Noir from dinner and the cold peppermint water from earlier, an intoxicating mix that made my pulse race out of control.

My competitive instincts flared, and I pushed back against him, meeting his tongue with my own in an aggressive, breathless fight for dominance. I bit lightly at his lower lip, determined to take control of the rhythm.

Adrian just let out a low, amused rumble in his chest.

He gripped the back of my neck with one hand, his fingers tangling in my hair, and tilted my head to slant his mouth harder over mine. He took over completely, his tongue stroking deep and slow, overwhelming me with pure, ruthless authority until my hands unclenched and my fingers dug helplessly into his shoulders.

Dominance settled. And guess who won?

Him. Every single time.

A soft, defeated whimper slipped from my throat, and he drank it down greedily.

His mouth moved slowly, sliding down from my lips to the sharp angle of my jaw.

He kissed the sensitive hollow beneath my ear, his stubble scraping lightly against my skin, drawing a soft, trembling sigh from my throat.

“Adrian…” I whispered.

“Shh,” he murmured against my neck. “No objections, Miss Patel.”

His mouth moved lower, trailing down the long curve of my throat to the hollow of my collarbone.

He kissed each side, biting gently at the skin until a sharp shiver raced down to my toes.

Then he moved to my breasts.

He cupped one breast in his warm hand, lifting it as his mouth closed over the curve, pressing hot, lingering kisses along the swell before his tongue flicked over my nipple.

I gasped, my head tilting back against the wall.

He paid agonizing attention to each side, licking, circling, and gently taking each peaked nipple between his teeth with just enough pressure to make my hips instinctively roll forward.

By the time he kissed his way down the center of my ribs and across my flat stomach, my breath was coming in short, shallow pants.

His hands reached the waistband of my black lace panties.

He hooked his thumbs under the delicate fabric, sliding them down my hips, down the length of my thighs and calves, until they pooled on the floor.

I stepped out of them, completely bare against the wall.

Adrian dropped down onto his knees in front of me.

The hallway was quiet, save for our ragged breathing and the faint crackle of the gas fireplace around the corner.

Adrian looked up, his sharp gaze drinking in every inch of me, his knuckles resting lightly on my bare knees.

“You are stunning, Priya,” he said in a murmur. “From the first day you sat in my seminar, you’ve owned this entire room.”

Before I could process the words, his hands slid up the back of my right thigh. With effortless strength, he lifted my right leg, hooking it over his broad shoulder.

I gasped, bracing both palms flat against the wall behind me for support.

My left foot remained firmly planted on the runner rug, my back pinned to the wall, completely open and vulnerable to him.

Adrian leaned in.

His warm breath washed over my center, and my stomach clenched in desperate anticipation.

Then his tongue made contact with my entrance.

A long, slow, wicked stroke dragged straight up from my opening to my clit, tasting the slick heat that had been building since we sat on the terrace.

A strangled cry tore from my throat, echoing down the empty corridor. “Adrian…”

“I’ve got you,” he muttered against my skin.

He didn’t rush; he used his mouth with the same ruthless, meticulous precision he used to dismantle legal briefs.

For the first few minutes, he used only his tongue and lips. He licked long, even strokes up the center of my folds, learning every sensitive ridge, before his tongue flattened against my clit, circling with steady, teasing pressure.

He sucked the swollen bud gently between his lips, humming at the taste of me, while his warm hands anchored my hips.

I let out broken whimpers, my head rolling back against the drywall, already trembling from the pure heat of his mouth.

Then, while his tongue kept up that torturous rhythm, he reached down with his other hand.

He pressed a single long finger against my entrance, parting me slowly before sliding all the way inside.

A sharp gasp tore from my lungs. He stroked deep and slow, curling that single finger upward against my front wall in steady, testing strokes.

“Adrian… oh god…” I breathed, my hips rocking helplessly against his face.

“You’re soaked, Priya,” he growled against my skin, his tongue flicking hard against my clit.

He didn’t stop there.

A moment later, he pressed a second finger in alongside the first, easing inside and stretching me. He began to thrust his fingers in and out, curling them in deep, rhythmic waves while his mouth worked relentlessly on my clit.

A wave of liquid fire ripped through my lower belly.

My hips bucked helplessly against his mouth, my fingers clawing into the drywall behind me.

The layered friction was too much. Every stroke of his tongue and pump of his fingers was driving me straight toward the edge, and after minutes of that relentless pace, my left leg started to betray me.

The muscles in my standing thigh began to shake violently.

The adrenaline from the phone call and the sheer intensity of what he was doing turned my standing leg completely to jelly.

My left knee buckled, and I slipped downward an inch against the wall.

Adrian caught me instantly, his mouth pulling back just enough to look up.

A dark, knowing smirk curved his lips as he noticed my shaking leg. “Legs giving out on you, counselor?” he asked softly, his voice thick with satisfaction.

“I can’t… I can’t stand on one foot,” I panted, my chest heaving, sweat dampening my temples.

“Then don’t,” Adrian said.

Without missing a beat, he slid his left arm beneath my other thigh and lifted my left leg up, draping it over his other shoulder as well.

Now, both of my legs were hooked securely over his broad shoulders.

He used one powerful arm to wrap around the back of my thighs and hips, locking me firmly against the wall, effortlessly taking the entire weight of my lower body.

My feet were completely off the floor.

I pressed my right hand flat against the wall beside my head to keep my balance, while my left hand reached down, tangling desperately into his thick, dark hair.

“Adrian, wait…” I gasped, looking down at him with wide, dizzy eyes.

He didn’t wait.

With both of my legs up, I was completely laid bare to him, and he took full advantage.

His mouth came back down with ravenous hunger.

His strong hands locked around my hips and lower back, bracing my entire weight firmly against the drywall so I couldn’t slide down an inch.

With his hands anchoring my body, it was pure, relentless mouth work. His tongue swept deep and fast, licking and lapping with rhythmic strokes, flattening against my swollen clit before circling and sucking.

The sensation was so overwhelming it bordered on agony.

I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

My back was locked against the drywall, my hips pinned to his arm, and my entire world narrowed down to the searing friction of his mouth between my thighs.

“Oh god,” I sobbed out, my knuckles turning white against the wall, my other hand twisting tight in his dark hair. “Adrian, please…”

“Cum for me, Priya,” he growled against my center, his voice vibrating straight through my bones. “Let go.”

The tension in my lower belly coiled tighter and tighter, like a spring wound past the breaking point.

The colors behind my eyelids flared into blinding white light.

My hips arched wildly against his mouth, every muscle in my body locking tight.

“I’m cumming!” I cried out, my voice shattering through the quiet suite. “Adrian, I’m cumming!”

The dam burst.

An explosive, violent climax ripped through me, tearing every coherent thought from my skull.

Wave after wave of pure, paralyzing ecstasy crashed through my body, my core trembling and clenching helplessly against the relentless suction of his lips while his mouth greedily drank down every drop of my release.

I gasped and sobbed for air, my head thrown back against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure refused to let me go.

Adrian kept his mouth there, kissing my trembling, sensitive skin until the aftershocks slowly began to subside. Only when my breathing settled into ragged, shallow pants did he slowly unhook my legs from his shoulders.

He wrapped both arms securely around my waist and eased me down, letting my feet touch the runner rug.

The second my toes hit the floor, my knees gave out completely.

Adrian caught me before I could fall, pulling me flush against his hard, sweat-dampened chest, his arms locking around my waist as we both stood there against the wall, breathing each other’s air.

He let out a low, amused rumble against my ear, the sound vibrating right through my ribs as he held me up effortlessly.

He slid two fingers under my chin, tilting my face up so I was forced to meet his gaze.

His hair was completely disheveled, his mouth was slick, and a slow, infuriatingly arrogant smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he took in my completely undone state.

“So…” he murmured, his voice dripping with wicked satisfaction. “How was that, counselor?”