Did you guys miss me?😌

You guys know what date it is? Thirtieth of October! It's Shards' anniversary.🥺

A year ago, I took a bold step and decided to step out of my comfort zone. I published a book. A decision I have been so grateful for despite the roller coaster of emotions and events that accompanied it.

I am penning down this message for any writer out there, who is so terrified of taking that bold step because they are unsure of what the world would think. I'll tell you one thing though. The world needs to see your master piece. So, do it scared, do it tired, do it unsure, just do it, and watch yourself soar.

I am not going to lie to you and tell you it'd be easy. It won't. But that spark, that fire, that passion will keep you grounded in the stormiest times. You are going to make mistakes. You are going to break. You are going to lose yourself, but you'll find that spark again. That, I can assure you.👌

Happy bookversary, Shards. Here's to growing and thriving just like we dream behind closed doors.✨

By the way, it's the birthday of one of my active readers. heralone4l  Happy birthday, boo.✨

With that being said, let's dive in.

The song for the chapter—Cinnamon Girl by Lana del Rey.

             ______________𖧷______________
   
                              "𝑂𝑛𝑒, 𝑡𝑤𝑜, 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒,
                              𝑜𝑑𝑑𝑠 𝑏𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛𝑒𝑑.
                              𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜
                                  𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑."

           _______________𖧷______________
               

                ~𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙺𝙸𝚁𝙰 𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙸𝙺~

My Girl.😌✨
I still think that red one is nice sha.
4:04pm.

A heavy frown descended on my face when I saw Zee's text come in right after I gave my opinion about the dress. I released an exasperated sigh and swiped up the voice note icon.

"Wo, Zee, you are stressing me. If you knew that my opinion wouldn't be appreciated in the first place, why did you ask for it? I don't understand you again o. Do both of us a favour and go meet Jeremy then!" I groaned, hitting the send button.

The indicator that she was online soon morphed into the one that showed that she was recording an audio.

"God, abeg," I muttered.

The audio came in and I clicked on it immediately.

"Ahnnn, why is your blood so hot like this? We both know that Jeremy would tell me that they all look good on me. Is it because you are keeping Stefan waiting that you are shouting on my head like this?" her voice was flat-out teasing at the end, causing me to blush furiously.

Zee has a problem.

A very big one because I didn't understand why she was stressing about the dress she would wear to the dance when it was still roughly three weeks away. She had all the time in the world to sort out whatever she wanted to wear but she just had to start texting me about it after she left school hours ago. 

She was being such a pain in the ass when all I should be doing was trying to revise with Stefan for the last paper we had tomorrow. Literature-in-English. School had been over like two hours ago but we decided to stay back at our spot that had proven to be so convenient for studying for the past few weeks.

The old art studio.

"I heard that," Stefan spoke teasingly to my hearing from where he stood by the desk, looking through the ton of textbooks heaped on the desk. "It's not this one." He mumbled the last part to himself.

"Sorry," I giggled. "Just give me a few minutes, I will be with you. I just have to shoo this pest away." I told him, typing away aggressively on my phone.

He was silent for a while.

"You have been on your phone since we came in here. If I didn't know any better, I would say you have been ignoring me." There was something unabashed about the way he voiced out his worries. His voice was soft, but it still expressed his displeasure about my divided attention and that made me smile.

Heck, I looked over from my shoulder where I had been standing beside the large shelf that housed empty paint jars which was close to the opened windows.

"Are you jealous?" I asked, amused. The caramel-skinned boy didn't look up from the pile of books that were on the table nor did he respond. He was uncomfortably quiet. "Don't be like that Steffie Stef, jealousy doesn't look good on you." I smirked and turned to my phone.

The pawpaw sticker that Zee sent to me after I fired her a sarcastic text in response to what she said earlier had a burst of unladylike laughter rolling out of me. The boisterous sound must have aligned with his footsteps because he crept up behind me like a fog.

"Well," it should be unnerving how much control the raspiness of his voice had over me because it made me suck in a sharp intake of breath, rendering me extra sensitive towards his intimidating presence behind me. "I kind of don't like it when I am not the centre of attention because you happen to be mine." 

A sheer audaciousness.

That was what I initially picked up on in his words, but the possessiveness that hit me like a dosage of malaria drug that was beginning to kick in after use compelled me to whirl around.

The intensity of his gaze almost knocked me off my feet but I didn't give in to that effect. I struggled to swallow even when my mouth had imitated the dryness of a dessert.

There was nothing about his current posture that hinted at shyness.

Not the way he had his eyes pinned on me. Not the way he had his hands tucked in his pocket. Not the way his lazily buttoned white shirt was clinging to his muscular body with the rigid golden surface of his chest peeking beneath it. I have never been jealous of a fabric the way I was of the fucking shirt right now. I wondered how it must feel for it to be fused against all those muscles.

Must be nice.

I shoved my phone into the pocket of his sweater, proceeding to step forward.

"I-uh-I-" My voice was really shaky as I loomed forward, an utter contrast to what it would sound like on a normal day.

Stefan stalked closer and my breath caught but his eyes fleetingly left mine, settling on something on the shelf.

"Oh, would you look at that? There you are," He retrieved a textbook from the shelf and he waved it in my face. A shaky relief rolled out of me because I knew the sooner we ended this whole charade, the easier it would be for me to regain control over my emotions because right now, it felt like someone was stripping me of my ability to breathe.

"You found the book. So, um-I think we should just start." With how rushed my voice sounded as I ambled forward, it was even harder for me to pick up on anything I said.

"It has been there all along. I think it can wait for five minutes more. Don't you think so?" his voice was breathy, weakening my resolve and I found myself taking a step backwards since he wouldn't allow me to move forward.

However, his one stride was enough to eat up the space between us and he exhaled in what I presumed to be satisfaction.

"I didn't know how much I missed seeing your hair in its full glory until I inhaled that familiar coconut-vanilla extract." His voice was barely above a whisper but it was audible enough for my ears and my skin that pricked with goosebumps beneath his hot breath.

The term was almost ending and I found it unnecessary to plait my hair. So, I stuck to scarves and just styling my hair. Today just happened to be one of those rare days that I let it loose in its huge fro, leaving it sheeny all day. The hair butter had that much lasting effect.

But then, this wasn't the first time that Stefan would be complimenting my hair, so why does it make me feel so hot and bothered right now?

A tip backwards and my back connected with the hard plane of the side of the shelf. It didn't stop him from venturing towards me. 

"Oh, God." As those two words breezed out of my mouth, my breath began breaking syncing with the thudding of my heartbeat.

My emotions felt like they were being riled up, diving straight into ultra mode and it gave me a fleeting inkling of what was going on around me. I was very convinced that someone might have been preparing smoky Jollof in the local way somewhere close to this desolate block.

Despite the windows that were open for the cold breeze to filter in, a weird heat that felt like it had been lurking in the shadows began slithering into the studio, shrinking it slowly.

The familiar woody, spicy fragrance laced with a hint of musk and a tropical sprinkle crept into my nostrils and flooded my senses, nulling them as he inched forward, leaving a few inches hanging between us. It happened to be the push I needed because my eyes latched onto his and my breath froze for a second.

I had seen Stefan stare at me in numerous ways, but none of his stares were this invasive. It struck me as a form of mind control because I didn't understand how a gaze could be this affecting. That gleam in his eyes, that spark they always held felt like they had retreated into a deeper shell behind his eyes, rendering those silver pools a smoky grey that were thick with want. 

Orbs so evocative that they didn't only cause warmth to spread through every inch of my body, they unlocked an unrefined desire within me. A strange sensation that felt like it was bubbling up to the surface when my eyes flickered to his lips and my breathing came out almost too painful as an ache dented my muscles.

The silence in the room grew boisterous, thickening with every hot breath that evaded us and when he brought his hand up, there was a conviction that gripped me in the guts that those long, slender fingers were magnetic because they lured out the hunger that pooled within me, propelling them to rush to the surface of my skin. 

My insides were a frantic mess, yelling and thrashing around, hankering to burst through their confines. His movement was excruciatingly slow, heightening my want, but all that pain that seemed to linger within me dissipated into thin air when his fingers skimmed my cheek.

A feathery touch that had my emotions clamouring for release. My eyes were fixated on him the whole time, drinking in every emotion that flickered through his stormy eyes. Stefan wore his ache like armour. He wanted me to see just how much he wanted me. How much he wanted this and it had a realisation creeping into me.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. Shakira Malik is about to sit back and watch it all burn to the ground.

It was vivid what this tension was bordering on and a little, sane voice that was nagging at the back of my head kept yelling at me to put an end to this right now and go back to pretending it never happened. But the more the Oluyide boy stared at me with those sultry eyes, the farther my control slipped from my grasp until I shut that voice out.

Your funeral.

His fingers trailed my cheek so lightly, a stark contrast to the sizzling effect they left in their wake. It synced perfectly with the air that crackled and rippled with so much tension as an effect of the now-congested space, which seemed to have morphed into a matchbox.

Then, they stopped right on my lips, hovering on it and hanging in the air just like my breath. His eyes bore into mine for approval and I stared right back at him, granting it to him without having to say a word, and he understood.

The soft pad of his thumb brushed against my lower lip and the loud moan that rolled out of me made me even more aware of how shameless I was when it came to this boy.

This thing he always did with my lips was a fucking turn-on. I didn't know if it was because of how his finger always moved so sensually against my lips or the display of dominance that was arousing.

Maybe both.

"Fuck, you are perfect." He groaned, staring down at my shimmering lips. His eyes flickered back to mine in the process and the hunger they held reached out to my core and struck a chord in me, punching a harsh breath out of me.

The decrease in the space that hung between us as he tipped his head forward, releasing a fiery breath, made me watch as the lines between our friendship and our attraction between us blurred, exposing the uncharted territory that hung between us, which we were about to explore.

My eyes fluttered shut and I parted my mouth open in invitation. A needy action that was punctuated by a needier sigh. Stefan's lips brushed mine tentatively like a swipe of opium against my lips which I was willing to burn for but he halted, eliciting a frustrated sigh from me.

"Are you going to kiss me or what?" I sounded very demanding but my voice was void of breath. I watched my waning restraint blink a fine shade of red in front of me when he swept his tongue against his lips, earning a slight groan from me.

"Shit, you are sexy."

"I—"

"Bloody hell," I cussed.

Screw being friends. 

I clung to the boy's shirt and tugged him forward and when our lips brushed against each other achingly this time around, I closed the distance between our lips and shut the rest of the world out.

                                          •••••

Something inside my chest cracked open when he slowly began moving his lips against mine. It was a pool of ice splitting open and melting right back into water.

The gentle stroke of his lips against mine was sensuous but it was tainted with an obvious intentionality that radiated off his actions in his will to savour it like he wanted to memorise the feeling of my lips and its taste.

Like he wanted to allow himself to get used to how perfectly our lips aligned as though they were meant for each other.

He nibbled on my lower lip and I nibbled right back on his upper one, eliciting a moan from him. The soft, breathless sound was very evocative, causing warmth to spread right through me and I knew that it was a sound I wanted to get accustomed to because of how much a terrifying turn-on it was.

He didn't just moan.

He moaned for me.

The slow, retreating tug at my lips made me release a disapproving moan but he had already pulled away, super short of breath. Our sizzling breaths mingled, magnifying the heat that had chosen to take residence in the confined space.

For a fleeting moment, I got a glimpse of what addiction felt like because a tiny part of me was so sure that the contact of our lips would quell my desire to feel his mouth descend on mine but I was fucking wrong. If anything, the light contact they made against each other made me ache for him even more.

In no time, he cupped my cheek with his palm, his fingers caressing the nape of my neck, sending shivers slashing through my spine and trickling through me in anticipation at the way his eyes flamed with desire and darkened with intensity. The lust his hungry gaze beheld, mirrored the one that simmered through my veins.

It made my heart palpitate.

An invisible force propelled me to slowly part my lips again in invitation, hoping he would take it and he did inch forward, but it was a whisper that emitted from him first.

"You taste like the perfect addiction." Six words that exuded so much masculinity and dominance that weakened my legs but the avid contact his lips made with mine numbed them, and shattered my resolve, almost sweeping me off the ground.

The force rammed my back against the shelf, causing me to release a loud moan.

The tiny breath that was left lurking in my lungs was knocked sharply out of me. I saw that air waltz away from me. My senses were painfully heightened, the space overflowing with my emotions that were thrown all over the space.

This second contact expressed his unbound restraints that spoke at volumes through his quickened strokes against my lips. It made his neediness so vivid that it clashed with mine and consumed me.

I was a walking ball of sensitivity. 

I could smell him. I could taste him. I could feel him, feel every bit of what he was feeling with how expressive and skillful he was with his lips.

The fiery dance our lips were connected in established a psychic link between us, allowing me to drown in the depths of just how much we had merged beyond the surface. It made me feel like we were bound by some cosmic threads of some sort, intertwining our emotions and propelling them to clash against one another.

The heat of his body called out to mine, causing me to untangle his shirt from my fist and allow my palm to ride up his chest. An act that elicited an approving growl from him. My palm sensually crawled to the back of his, cradling it and Stefan tugged me forward, desperate to feel my body against his.

The boy kissed me like he knew my body like the back of his palms and when he wrapped his arm possessively around my waist, the contact against the sweater I draped around my body burnt through the thick fabric like he was trying to imprint every one of his touch on my soul, somewhat marking me as his. 

The rush of heat that coursed through me all at once nearly swept me off the ground and he swiftly picked me up like I weighed nothing. I threw my arms around his neck, wrapping my legs around him.

His large palms that were situated around my waist descended lower and they settled right below my ass, cupping it before he proceeded to squeeze it. He squeezed the soft flesh like he was trying to stake a claim, extracting a loud moan from me. The wanton sound that emitted from me mixed with the husky groan that shot through him. A sexy sound that expressed his satisfaction for what he just felt with his hands.

It was an amplifier to his arousal that was all over the place and with how much he moulded and broke me with that kiss, I barely noticed that we had begun moving until we got to the desk he was standing by earlier and he swept the off the books that were on it in one clean sweep without breaking the kiss.

The large textbooks collapsed onto the floor with heavy thuds, echoing through out the heat-immersed space but we couldn't care less about it. 

My bum met the desk and his fingers moved up my exposed thigh. Those long, slender fingers skimmed my skin and caused shivers to break within me. His feathery touch left me on an edge and I could feel myself tipping over it. My skin prickled with goosebumps and rippled with an all-consuming heat. 

The Yoruba boy grabbed the peak of my thigh and tugged me closer until I was hanging on the edge of the desk. I tossed my leg around him and arched forward. He pressed right back into me, his sole aim being to make so obvious the things I did to him. His hard-on was pressed against me, eliciting a moan from me.

I broke the kiss, gasping heavily with our noses brushing each other teasingly. All that restraint, all that hesitation and doubts had all poofed into thin air. Even the world that surrounded us had blurred into oblivion and our intense connection had plunged us into a different realm where the sheer want that lingered between us was the order of the day.

"I want this gone." I wasn't asking.

I was telling him and with how my sultry voice was punctuated with a slight assertiveness.

He took the hint and my red manicured fingers found the buttons of his shirt. The blood-red colour made a sinful contrast against the purity of his shirt as they hurriedly undid the buttons.  

I peeled the material off his body and tossed it behind me. His golden skin was bare and accessible to my touch. His taut muscles called out to me like I was being beckoned by a siren. As though I was compelled, my palms rode up his chest and I sighed in utmost bliss at the feeling of his silken skin beneath my palm and the sturdiness of his body.

The boy is perfect.

My palm lingered on his chest and his raging heartbeat, a testament to how affected he was by touch, echoed against my small hands and I sucked in a harsh breath.

"You are so beautiful," I whispered and looked up, beholding how he gazed at me like I was the most precious thing he had ever seen. 

I cupped the back of his head and my lips were back on his like they never left. The renewed sense of energy at which he kissed me, revealed how much he wanted me sent shockwaves unravelling within me. 

The responsive sounds I made and the way my fingers brushed through the back of his head seemingly yanked off what was left of his restraints because my sweater was off me in a second, followed by my shirt, and leaving me in my lacy black bustier camisole.

Our bodies moulded against each other, my breasts squashed against his chest and the almost bare contact had my veins pulsing with need. His fingers were almost pushing down one of the straps of my inner and I found every inch of me aching to have the damned inner off.

It made it occur to me that I was far too gone and control didn't seem like his strongest suit right now.

Not even mine.

It was like being deprived of something for so long and when you finally have a taste, it unleashes an unrestrained hunger that you had been struggling to subdue.

The heightened pace of our kiss incinerated the thought of wanting to be kissed or touched by anyone else except him. This intimacy was as intense as it was intoxicating and I didn't want to share it with anyone else that wasn't him.

So, for that moment, I allowed myself to want Stefan and not care about anything else.

Stefan's fingers travelled to the back of my head and they sank into my fro, fisting it softly and angling his head to the side so he could kiss me more deeply. So that he could show me just how much he wanted me and I struggled to meet the dominating strokes of his lips that robbed me of my breath. He tugged at my lip, earning a moan from me and then broke off the kiss, leaving us to reel from the aftermath of the mind-blowing kiss.

His eyes flitted from my lips, dropping to my cleavage and roving the swell of my breasts that looked so enticing in the camisole that had them all propped up.

"Beautiful," he murmured huskily, trailing his fingers against the upper part of my boobs that were bare to his lustful gaze in a feathery touch. The way they glazed against my skin, flaming it up made me squirm beneath his touch.

The first kiss he pressed against the sensitive flesh made me moan loudly. It was as though he couldn't get enough of the sound I made because his hands crawled up to my upper thigh, searing through the plaid fabric of my skirt that had ridden up dangerously. 

His hold against me was strong, but not so tight. It was tight enough to keep me in place while he bestowed hot kisses on my exposed breasts. The soft, yet fiery kisses had my eyes rolling back in their sockets and I cupped the back of his head against my chest, caressing it softly while struggling to stifle my loud moans.

Certain occasions had proven that he was a thorough boobs guy but he couldn't have been more shameless about it than he was right now. He buried his head in my cleavage, muttering the words along the line, "you are perfect" in a groan. His lips and hands on me drove me to the utmost edge, causing tingles to shoot through me and wreaking havoc in me.

Just when I thought it was over, while I was still struggling to catch my breath, the boy pressed a soft kiss to my jaw, extracting a soft sound from me. He worked his mouth from my jaw to the base of my neck where he nipped softly and I almost jerked off the desk as I tossed my head back in a moan but his hands latched onto my thigh possessively and he tugged me back up like I weighed nothing.

There was nothing hurried about his movement. It was like he was determined to wrench out every sound I was capable of making. He switched between showering feathery kisses on the sensitive flesh of my neck, and nipping on it while his fingers trailed up and down my exposed thigh. I tilted my head to the side, granting him access to my neck with my eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.

Each stroke of his lips against my neck was like a strike against a sensitive spot in me, extracting shameless, wanton sounds that sounded so strange to my ears. I had long ditched my home training, not caring how loud I sounded or the fact that someone could hear us.

He would suck on the skin of my neck and I would feel myself shatter right into pieces in his arms. He had my body all bent to his will and he knew damn well how to use his mouth. The moans that left my lips only seemed to urge him on, eliciting husky sounds from him against my neck. The guttural vibrations shot through my skin, rendering me a puny mess against the table.

Stefan Oluyide was nowhere near a gentleman.

He wore that tag of a Yoruba demon  with pride as he wreaked havoc within me, causing my insides to morph into a churning mess, my bloodstream coursing with a plethora of emotions while my nails dug into his back in pleasure, my body arching into his, meeting his sinful hands that worshipped the outline of my curves.

Each time I nearly slipped off the desk, he hoisted me on the flat surface right back up, his hold stronger and more possessive than the last. With one sinfully soft suck against my neck, he pressed a gentle kiss to my neck and he looked up, his eyes clashing with mine.

His lips met mine again and it felt like a tidal wave swept through me. I clung to him like I needed him to breathe, giving up control and allowing myself to be consumed by the wave of pleasure that surged through me.

We broke apart and his forehead rested on mine, our scorched breath mixing. The studio echoed with our pants and the tension from our intimacy lingered. It was very hard to think about anything else. All my mind could conjure every time I tried, was the breathtakingly beautiful kiss we just shared.

His eyes snapped open and the intensity of those grey orbs bore into me, unravelling me all over again. They were soaked with so much vulnerability that made my heart thump really hard.

However, as bare as they made me feel, they also terrified me because they seemed to hold an impending sense of doom in the form of raw emotions. 

And just like the ominous feeling that was beginning to creep into me, his next words broke me.

"I love you, Reina."

A/N

Ewooooooooooo!😂😂😂😭 These children don finally kiss sha!! Left to me, I would have shifted it to chapter eighty!😌 Bloody lies from the pit of hell, obvs. Initially, it ought to come in chapter fifty, and trust me, when it didn't, I was very irked, as per the perfectionist that I am.🤣🤣🤣

But then, I was like, no wam. E still bam. Ijhfewwwwwk!! Ugh, Stefan!😭🔥

Atleast, you people will let me rest now. Them don kiss. Everybody don calm like that.😂👍 Hehehe 😂

So, Shakira can say, "Screw being friends" ? Wow, I didn't know o.💀

Anyways, y'all let me know what you think in the comments section and even ghost readers aren't excluded! Everybody must comment!😂

Oh, well. Stefan finally said the L word to her.  I only have one thing to say. Keep Shakira and Stefan in your prayers. Things are about to get quite dark and chaotic.♥️

Don't forget to vote, comment, and share.

Adiós ✨

Love, Didi.♥️