𝐈𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (Completed)

23. A D R I E N & O T H E R P R O B L E M S

(This chapter is going to be a little.... *drumroll* naughty 😈. I hope it doesn't make any of you uncomfortable, if it does you may not read it❤️. I can understand that not everybody likes these kind of stuff:).

But please don't judge me, I have my share of kinks too and I'm not ashamed🤷🏻‍♂️❤️)

IVY'S  P.O.V

Adrien had a lot to say to me after the act I pulled outside his office. "You are not a child, Ms. Torres. And I am not going to let you off without a warning because there will be no next time," his words are crisp.

"Have I made myself clear?" I nod.

"I ap"- I stop midway remembering Adrien expressing his thoughts on those who apologize.

"I understand Adrien. It won't happen again."

"Good. Here's what I need you to do for me." The brush moves smoothly against the roughness of the canvas, the lines forming a thick, blue layer.

Adrien wanted me to paint a picture for an exhibition he will be opening within a few weeks from now, his theme was cherish with a side of ardour. He wasn't specific as to what he wanted, as he gave me the leverage to do whatever I wished, as long as it stuck to the concept he had in mind.

"Be free, trust your instincts and let it flow. You mess this up, you know what happens."

I stop painting, placing the brush back into the mug afraid the canvas might tear. There is a little dent in the middle, I get up and slap my palms against my jeans. On Thursdays, most of the employees can wear casuals.

What is Adrien's problem with me?

What did I ever do to piss the hell out of him?
I'm so very sorry Mr. Ribeiro, but it's not my fault if someone pissed in your cup this morning.

I thought it would be a great idea to paint on the building's terrace. There are two cubed deluxe sofas situated near the metal railing, the area carefully protected with a transparent glass barricade. I sit down on the sofa staring at my feet.  I can't paint when I'm upset. I can't be mad at Adrien for giving me a tough time.

This is the second time I am making a fool out of myself, I too won't give anymore chances to someone who refuses to listen, watching them gallivant akin to red riding hood on search of an adventure. I'm not red riding hood.
This isn't an adventure. It's work, I can't afford to screw this up again.

"Why don't you quit?"

"Leave me alone." I remark, getting up and going back to finish Adrien's painting.

"I don't like the way he's treating you, Hurricane. You don't deserve to be spoken to like that," Chace's army boots are positioned next to me, it takes all my willpower to not look up at his irritatingly handsome face. 

"Am I missing something?" 

"Do you mind moving your foot?"  I ignore his question dipping the brush with red, sliding it across the canvas. My skin tingles with Chace cupping his hands firmly against my ass.
He gives it a light squeeze. "Perfect."

I jump, mortified. "What the hell ar"-  he silences me with his lips brushing on the side of my lip, Herculean arms enclosing around my waist pulling me closer to him.

"I don't like the way he is looking at you," Chace's voice is harsh with vexation. "I don't like the way everyone in this shitty compound looking at you." 

"Since when do you care? After you left me a stupid note?"

I shoot back, giving his chest a brusque shove. He grips my arm, spinning me to turn back. The blue in his eyes are much brighter, much paler, flaring dangerously with desire. Chace's  lush lips meet mine, slamming my body onto the ground. My legs wrap around his waist, I tug at his hair and give it a slight pull, out mouths refusing to leave.

He runs his tongue over my lips, biting it softly. They part open to give entryway as our tongues twirl, encompassing one another. Using my free thigh, I use it to push him to the side.

"Open it." I demand. There's a devious smile crookedly playing on his lips, he doesn't object. I remove my top, bringing his mouth under my control. His fingers find their way to my back. My breasts press against his sculpted chest, I run my hands up and down his taut abdomen, resting on his torso. He sucks my neck, biting it  a moan escapes my mouth.

I can feel the chillness of the ground, the paint seeping onto my skin. Chace's triceps flex, arms caging me. The warmth I'm receiving from his body overpowers the sharpness of the wind.  He licks his lips like a hungry wolf, knowing what it wants, blue eyes blazing covetously.

"Mine." He growls before diving in for another kiss. Chace's hands tightly clasp around my breasts, the other hand acting as pillow for the back of my head. Our naked bodies are rolling around in paint we couldn't careless.

Once again, I didn't have the strength or the energy to push him. I didn't raise my voice asking him why the fuck couldn't he leave me alone. I am under him, I am over him, my legs in between him. He is on top of me, I can't help but to give in to his magical touches. 

"I dare you," Chace challenges, "I dare you to push me back." My nipples tighten. "Let me hear you say you don't want this".

Shit. I lean back, as he strokes my face with his knuckles I take him in, tilting my head back. His hand slides down my stomach, leading it between my outstretched thighs. My nipples perk up, I feel my in between clench for more. No. I don't want him to stop. My chest burns, my heart racing. His index finger moves, wet blue paint moving in circles around my collarbone.

I don't want this to be the last time. I don't want this to end. I don't want him to leave. This shouldn't be the last time for both of us. There's a fire in the pit of my stomach that's been lit, I grab his hair, mouths moving in sync. "Chace," I say against his lips, I feel them curling into a full fledged satisfied grin. "I love it when I get to have you saying my name, Hurricane." My clit throbs.

My eyelids snap open, I look down at the canvas. It is not blank. Shades of blue, green and red fill the emptiness, splotches of yellow drawn above two black figures that kind of have a form. The lines are detailed, the colors strewn around knew what they were doing.

"Yes," I mutter, running my hands through the semi dry piece. "It is perfect." Corrupt, but it's the sensuality, the intimacy that is right at the same time.