THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 46: Dont let it

Chapter 46: Dont let it

Sweat trickled down Tryson’s face—cold, beaded droplets racing down his skin. His breath hitched.

It wasn’t the heat; it was her.

The mere thought of Angel’s touch sent shivers through him, the imagined sensation of her warm skin against his finger setting his nerves ablaze.

He could almost hear it—the sharp, breathy moan she would release the moment his fingers grazed her.

"Tryson..." Her voice shattered the haze of his thoughts.

He blinked, lashes fluttering as he met Angel’s gaze. Her eyes locked onto his, questioning, searching—why was he still standing there, lost in another world?

"Oh, actually—" he faltered, words slipping, his mind still tangled in forbidden daydreams.

He tightened his grip on the bag’s handle, ready to move away, to escape before his thoughts betrayed him further.

But Angel moved too—unaware, uncalculated—stepping closer.

Then it happened.

A spark ignited the moment her chest brushed against his chest, the delicate press of her body against his sending an unbidden jolt through them both.

The fabric of her dress barely a barrier, her warmth seeping into him, branding him.

She hadn’t meant to—hadn’t realized—but the instant the contact registered, a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips.

Tryson’s world tilted.

And in that fleeting second, nothing else mattered.

Tryson froze.

The air between them thickened, a charged silence pressing in, heavy with unsaid words and unspoken desires.

Their eyes locked—deep, searching, an unbreakable tether pulling them into each other’s gravity.

Angel’s lips parted slightly, a hesitant breath slipping free.

Something in Tryson snapped.

Before he could question it, before reason could pull him back, his fingers found her cheek, cradling her face with a reverence he hadn’t realized he possessed.

Slowly, he tilted her head upward—his heart hammering, pulse deafening—until, without hesitation, he crashed his lips against hers.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, yet filled with an aching hunger.

His hands trembled against her skin as he gently bit into her lower lip, pulling her deeper into the moment.

Their eyes fell shut, the silence now speaking volumes.

Step by step, they moved backward, lost in the feverish exchange.

Angel’s breath hitched as instinct took over, her arms rising, winding around Tryson’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

Tryson’s hands traced a path down her back before finding her thighs. In one smooth motion, he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as she gasped against his mouth.

She melted into him, her body pressing closer, the need for more—more of him—burning through her veins.

Tryson stepped backward, his lips never once parting from hers, the hunger between them deepening with each passing second.

The moment the back of his legs met the bed, he lowered her onto the soft surface, his body following, their breaths tangled in the charged air.

As the kiss finally broke, Angel gazed up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. A soft chuckle escaped her lips—breathless, teasing—as she met Tryson’s intense, almost dangerous stare.

His eyes burned with something raw, something untamed.

Without a word, he leaned back in, capturing her lips once more.

His hands, which had been resting flat against her skin, began a slow, deliberate journey.

The warmth of his fingertips trailed up her body, igniting goosebumps in their wake.

His touch found her breast, the delicate fabric of her dress still separating them, yet the heat was undeniable.

His fingers pressed against her gently, teasing, tracing patterns that sent shivers through her body.

The kiss grew deeper, more feverish, their senses drowning in the moment. Each touch, each breath, each movement spoke of an insatiable need.

But then—suddenly—Tryson pulled away.

The space between them was filled only by the sound of their ragged breaths.

Their eyes locked, heat and longing flickering between them like a barely contained wildfire.

His voice was hoarse, strained, almost as if the words pained him. "I should stop," he murmured, his breathing uneven.

Angel’s eyes widened, her lips still swollen from the kiss, her expression shifting from longing to surprise.

They were right there, tangled in the sheets, the air between them thick with unspoken desires. So what was stopping him?

"Tryson," Angel whispered, her voice laced with both confusion and longing.

She hadn’t expected this hesitation from him—not now, not when everything felt so right.

But Tryson, for once, seemed to be fighting against the current of emotion, his mind struggling to take control over his heart.

"Angel, listen..." he began, his voice gentle but firm. "The baby—I can’t risk putting you through anything rough right now. I just... I want to wait, okay? Some other time."

For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy and uncertain.

Angel’s expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features before she let out a soft chuckle, breaking the tension.

Tryson exhaled, relieved yet aching at the same time.

He leaned in, closing the space between them, and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead—a silent promise, a reassurance that even though he was holding back now, his feelings for her burned just as fiercely.

"I have to go take my bath now," Tryson said, his voice steady, though something unspoken lingered in the air between them.

Angel simply smiled—soft, knowing—but she said nothing.

She only watched as he picked up his robe and disappeared into the bathroom, the tension still thick in the space he left behind.

Under the cascading rain of the shower, Tryson braced himself against the cool tile wall, his breath uneven.

His jaw clenched, eyes shutting tight as a deep frustration settled within him.

His body ached, the tension unbearable. He lowered his gaze, staring down at the evidence of his restraint—the heat, the need, the undeniable hunger that refused to fade.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as his fingers instinctively wrapped around himself, the pressure a cruel reminder of what he had denied.

Tilting his head back, he let the steaming water consume him, his body moving in a rhythm he could no longer control.

Waves of pent-up desire surged through him, pulsing, tightening—until release finally shattered through him.

His eyes snapped open, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as he stood there, letting the water wash away what was left of his torment.

But even as he tried to steady himself, the lingering fire in his veins whispered that this wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

He needed Angel—craved her with every fiber of his being.

The hunger burned deep, clawing at his restraint, but no matter how much he ached for her, her safety came first.

He wouldn’t let his selfish desires consume him, wouldn’t risk what mattered most just to satisfy the fire raging inside him.

So, he swallowed the longing, forcing himself to endure the ache, knowing that some things were worth waiting for.