Ria De La Ria Book Club

  Chapter 37 Lydia POV The car pulled into the garage, vanishing from sight. The tension between us skyrocketed, and before I could climb out, Zayn roughly yanked me toward her side. I straddled her lap on the seat, our tongues clashing fiercely. With one hand, she pulled the car door open; with the other, she gripped my waist. She stepped out, and I wrapped my legs tightly around her upper torso. I felt her walking, but she paused at the step leading to the house door. Her free hand slid to my stomach as she quickly unbuckled her belt. "Can you do something for me, Lydia?" she asked, her voice a panting breath. The kiss had left us both breathless, but my neck arched like a turtle snapping for more of her lips. "Mhmm..." I hummed. "Good girl," she whispered, lowering me—not to my feet, but to my knees. Both her hands now worked to free herself, undoing her belt and opening her pants fully. I knew exactly what she wanted as I peered up at her...

  Chapter 34 Lydia POV The tip of the knife bore into my body as I traced it up from my ankle bones to my thighs. She watched me intently. This, however, felt like torture. I personally didn't know what I was doing. At this moment, I was just tracing lines on my skin. The knife wasn't as sharp as I thought it would be, and something told me I wasn't the first to use it. The fake cock, going to her house, the knife, and taking me out for a drink—it's all an act. Many more girls have fallen victim to this, and that's why I was trying my best not to see her in another light. "Use your other hand and massage one of your breasts; do it slow and sensual. Imagine it's me touching you...only me." Her voice lowered, just a few decibels short of a whisper for my ears to hear. I nodded, complying with what she was saying. I softly squeezed my non-existent breast. I was getting the nipple hard and firm—for what? My skin had red welts as if it had been st...

  Chapter 11 Hassan’s POV My office was growing more crowded by the second, packed with people offering congratulations on my engagement to Sakina. Honestly, I would’ve preferred all the cheek kisses and shoulder pats to happen at the ceremony tonight—not here, not now. The ceremony was set to take place here, and I already regretted it. The air felt too tight—I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. I shrugged off my jacket, leaving myself in just my vest and shirt, sleeves rolled, frustration rising. Everyone was too damn close. Too damn cheerful. My uncle slid into the chair across from me, his cane resting between his legs. The man was as old as time. “Congratulations,” he said. “Thanks… I’m working,” I replied, not bothering to look up from the paperwork in front of me. “You’ve outpaced quite a few young bachelors who were lining up to court her. You’ve done well for yourself. That one had a lot of eyes on her.” “Well, Uncle,” my gaze, to him, “I hope those eyes ha...

  Chapter 10 Sakina’s POV The devil sleeps soundly beside me; her fingers curled around the upper part of my body. Her hand is warm, heavy—almost heavenly. I want to rinse the taste of her from my mouth, erase the feel of her tongue. Is this how it’s going to be now? Will every day start with me doing or saying something involving her, only to regret it afterward? I glance at my phone, wanting to check the time, but I don’t dare move. The last thing I want is her touching me, yet I’d rather not wake her either. Still, I know I’m already late for class—and she’s probably late for work. A scoff slips from me, unintentional, but enough for her to tighten her grip on me like some clingy puppy. Judging by the pale blue sky outside, dawn has long passed—we’re well into the morning. I’ve already missed a lecture. I can't afford to miss another. I ease her arm off me. It’s surprisingly easier than it looks or feels. Just as I begin to swing my legs off the bed, I feel a sudden tug...

  Chapter 9 Sakina POV She held a book in one hand and a glass of rice-brown whiskey in the other. I was on my phone, watching the latest animal video updates, doing a fairly good job of pretending not to watch her as she read in her chair. The standing lamp cast a warm light over her, and I couldn’t help but steal a glance at her body. Out of her suit, she looked surprisingly composed—almost ordinary. Not quite the nutcase I’d thought. Her body was lean, clean-cut. I wanted to ask what she was reading, but I didn’t want to pull her out of that world. Highly doubt it was romance. I wouldn’t call myself a bookworm, but I manage to pick one up about once a month. If there’s a book and a phone side by side, I’m always reaching for the phone. Every damn time. And yet here I was, turning off my phone, still holding it in front of me in case she suddenly looked up—giving my eyes a place to land. It would be weird to just tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling like a weirdo. ...