This is what I want. —Liana
Liana
Elias showed up, like he said he would.
The second I slid into the passenger seat, he looked at me.
Not smiling. Not talking. Just… looking.
His eyes trailed over my face, my flushed cheeks, the slight waver in my movement. “Did you drink?”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah… Alex said it was mandatory.”
He didn’t respond right away. Just shifted the car into drive. The silence stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m not drunk,” I said quickly. “I just had two drinks. Maybe three. But I told you, remember? I said there would be alcohol. You knew.”
His jaw ticked. Not angry. Just tight. Then, finally: “I told you. You’re not allowed to drink without my permission.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
His voice dropped, rough and low. “You heard me.”
I turned to him. “That’s not fair.”
He didn’t answer. But something shifted.
His eyes looked darker. His jaw tight.
And the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel like… he was trying really hard to hold something in.
I shrank a little in my seat.
Was he mad?
He didn’t seem mad. But he definitely wasn’t okay either.
I made it about four steps into his house before I mumbled, “I’m gonna shower.”
“No,” he said.
I blinked. “No?”
He kicked the door shut behind him.
“You drank,” he said. “I don’t trust you alone in a wet room.”
I scowled. “I’m not a baby.”
His eyes darkened. “I didn’t say you are.”
I tried to say something else, but he was already moving. Already lifting.
He carried me straight to the bathroom. Set me down on the floor.
And then, slowly, like unwrapping a present he already knew was his, he undressed me.
I couldn’t breathe.
His touch was steady. Gentle. But his eyes? His eyes were fire.
“You’re being dramatic,” I whispered, cheeks blazing.
He leaned in, kissed the corner of my mouth. “No,” he murmured. “I’m being generous. Because if I was really mad, I wouldn’t be this gentle.”
“You’re making this up,” I mumbled.
“Am I?” His mouth brushed my neck. “Didn’t I say, no drinking without permission?”
“You knew I was going to Alex’s party—”
“And now,” he growled, lifting me into the shower, “you’re going to be punished.”
He stepped in the shower with me. Naked. I had no idea when he took the cloth off.
The water hit my skin. Warm. Heavy. But it wasn’t the water that made me shiver.
It was him. His body against mine. His hands slick with soap, dragging slowly over my arms, my back, my chest. His mouth at my ear, whispering things I couldn’t repeat if I tried.
“You think you can just come home soft and drunk off something that wasn’t me?”
I gasped. My hands grabbed at his shoulders, desperate to stay upright.
“You’re flushed,” he murmured.
“I’m in the shower,” I whispered, breath catching.
He chuckled darkly. “That’s not why.”
My hands came up to his chest, meaning to push him away. But my fingers curled instead. Clung.
Elias kissed me. Deep. Demanding. His tongue swept into my mouth like he owned it, like he’d been waiting all night for this exact moment.
I whimpered. My legs felt like water.
He caught me before I could slip.
“Careful,” he growled. “Didn’t I say I don’t trust you alone in here?”
His hand slid between my thighs. Just a brush. A tease.
I gasped.
“Wet,” he murmured against my lips. “Not from the water, is it?”
I buried my face in his chest, humiliated. Burning.
He groaned, low and rough, like I’d just lit a fuse.
Then he lifted me.
Strong hands under my thighs. My back hit the tiled wall, warm water cascading around us.
He looked at me. Really looked.
“Now for your punishment.”
My eyes widen.
He adjusted his grip. Lined himself up.
And slid in. Slow. Deep.
My breath shattered. My arms clung around his neck.
His body filled me, stretched me, surrounded me.
I moaned against his ear. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t hold back anything.
Elias groaned like he was in pain.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re still tight.”
He started to move.
Careful at first. Controlled. Then deeper.
My back pressed hard against the cold wall, his hips rocking up into mine.
Water streamed down his shoulders. Down my chest.
I couldn’t think. Could barely breathe.
His lips found mine again.
And in that tiny, flickering moment, nothing else existed.
Just the water.
Just him.
Just us.
-next morning-
I woke to the scent of him.
Warm skin. Faint soap. A little bit of sleep.
My cheek was against his chest.
His arm was draped around me like it always belonged there.
And for a few seconds, I didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.
Just listened to the steady beat of his heart.
And felt… safe.
I tilted my head slightly.
Watched the way his mouth parted in sleep.
The soft rise and fall of his chest.
The shadow of stubble along his jaw.
And something in me… melted. Completely.
I used to think I wanted a place to belong.
But maybe what I really wanted…
Was this.
To wake up like this. With him. Every morning.
No need to tiptoe. No need to sneak away before someone came home.
No more being the girl who only stayed on weekends.
No more being the guest.
Just… this.
Coffee in the kitchen.
Toothbrushes side by side.
My clothes mixed with his in the laundry.
Kissing him goodnight, then good morning, then again just because I could.
I wanted it all. And I wanted it here. With him.
I stared at the ceiling for a second.
Then turned my face back to his chest, breathing him in.
“I want this,” I whispered. So quiet it barely counted as sound.
But maybe, deep down, he heard me anyway.
Because his arm tightened around me in his sleep.
And my heart answered before my mind could stop it.
Yes. This. Always.
Chapter 88: Home
This is home. Our home. –Liana
Liana
At the weekend, Elias showed up right on time.
He didn’t text to say he was downstairs. Didn’t honk.
He knocked on the door like a gentleman.
Simple. Certain.
Like he already knew I’d say yes. Even before I knew.
I opened the door, suitcase by my feet, hoodie zipped up halfway, heart pounding.
He looked at me for a second.
Then smiled. Not wide. Not smug. Just warm. Sure.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
We didn’t say much on the way.
Just held hands in the car. Windows half-down. Music low.
And when he pulled into the driveway, he looked at me like he was seeing something he’d been waiting for.
Not for a week. Not for a month.
For longer.
He didn’t say it. But I felt it.
Moving wasn’t dramatic.
There were only four boxes. A suitcase. A backpack.
And me.
Elias carried most of it without comment.
Set the last box down in the living room and wiped his hands on his jeans.
Then turned to me.
“Which room do you want?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, casual. Almost.
“I figured you’d stay in my room. We can turn your old room into the study. For your online teaching.”
My brain stuttered.
I thought I was moving back to my old room.
Not in a bad way. Just—that’s what it had always been.
The room I was given. The space he made for me.
I never expected to be in his space.
With him.
But here he was.
Telling me I could stay. Telling me I belonged.
I felt my face flush. My voice came out soft. “Okay.”
He smiled. He looked so sexy that my heart skipped a little bit.
I could tell he’s happy, me too.
It felt like we’d just made a decision bigger than either of us could say out loud.
And maybe we had.
Because this wasn’t just a room.
It was home.
