He curses, thrusts, and joins me in bliss.
We lie with nothing but our ragged breathing between us for a few minutes.I bask in the endorphins and soak in his presence.Just as my shoulder complains from reaching behind me and his seed turns cool and sticky on the back of my hand, he takes my wrist and lifts it off his cock with gentle care.
Shame and disgust creep in as he disappears into the bathroom.Tears scratch like sandpaper behind my eyes.I clench my teeth and breathe through my nose, but the urge to cry grows stronger.
He returns with a warm washcloth and reverent hands.My chest aches.After wiping the worst of the gunk from my hand, he carries me to the dark bathroom, kisses my forehead, and shuts the door between us.
The numbness returns and clears away my urge to cry.
He may have crossed the line by sneaking into my bed, but the rest was my fault.I touched myself while he remained respectful.
After washing my hands, a quick wipe down, and changing into new pajamas, I open the bathroom door.Strong arms lift me off my feet and settle me under the sheets.He settles in beside me before pulling me close.
I should push him away, but I snuggle closer instead.
He’ll be my husband soon.Even though it’s a contract marriage with a heavy revenge plot and loads of money exchanged, I’ll be legally wed to this man for the next five years.
As I drift back to sleep, my brain replays the hospital visit, but an odd sense of déjà vu weaves within the scenes.The more I try to pull it into focus, the further it slips away.
I jerk awake as my phone buzzes and plays music from inside my purse on the nightstand.Disoriented and uncoordinated, I wriggle onto the mountain of muscle and fish out the vibrating rectangle.
Long fingers wrap around my waist.Awareness slams into me.I apologize and try to slip off my bedmate, certain I’m hurting him, but he rumbles a warning and tugs me back on top of him.Knowing he’ll ignore any mention of his injuries, I focus on what he holds dear.
“I need to get up.I’m two days behind at work,” I grumble.
He sighs and wraps his arms around my back.
As wonderful as it feels, I pull my defenses close and pinch his side.He hisses and releases me.I slip off the bed and stagger into the bathroom.
Less than fifteen minutes later, I emerge, showered, with my hair in a high, sleek ponytail, my makeup done, and wearing the extra set of clothes I keep stashed in the back of the closet in case of emergency.
I follow the smell of breakfast and stop in the kitchen entrance.The sight of my ruthless boss in such a domesticated setting both unnerves me and fills me with longing.
He quirks a brow, plates the food, and walks around the island to the table already set for two.
My mouth waters at the delicious aroma and at the picture he presents.Ready for the workday in everything except his suit coat, with his sleeves rolled and an apron tied over his clothes, he’s sin incarnate.
After plugging in my phone on the island, I follow his silent command and sit beside him.After a few wondrous bites of eggs and pancakes, I take a sip of coffee and nearly moan in delight.
Everything is perfect.Too perfect.Suspicion rises in me.
I know his preferences because it’s my job.In the eight years I’ve worked for him, he has never once shown interest in my likes and dislikes, yet last night’s dinner and this morning’s breakfast were catered to me.
The setting is too intimate to question him, so I set down my mug and lean back in my chair.
“Move in with me,” he says without preamble.
I take a deep breath and relax my shoulders despite the tension coiling through me as I prepare for battle.
“Not until—”
“Move your sisters in, too.”
His interruption startles me into silence.The offer is the last thing I expected, but one of the most important.
I signed the contract with Hannah at the forefront of my mind, but all through our discussions of revenge, I worried for Aisha and Momo’s safety.He just shoved those doubts off the board with a lazy hand.
Part of me resents him for his easy answer while the other sobs in relief.