She rides my mouth like she’s riding out a storm, grinding against my tongue, hands in my hair, voice shaking with need.
When she comes, it’s violent—her whole body seizing, her heels digging into my back, the sound she makes half a sob, half a challenge. I don’t let up, licking and kissing and biting until she’s shuddering, begging, cursing my name.
I climb up her body, settling between her ample thighs, my cock hard and aching against her slickness. She’s thick in all the right places, from her heavy breasts right down to her gorgeous legs.
She grabs my face, dragging me down for another kiss, her lips swollen, eyes dark with satisfaction and something softer beneath.
“You think you can ruin me?” she whispers, voice hoarse. “You already have.”
I push into her in one long, slow thrust—no mercy, no pretense of gentleness. Her body clamps down around me, tight and hot and perfect. We both gasp, shock and relief mingling in the air.
She tries to set the rhythm, rolling her hips, but I grip her wrists, pinning them above her head. “You want control?” I taunt, driving into her, slow and deep. “Take it. Show me.”
She fights me, tries to break my hold, but I don’t let her. I fuck her slow, every thrust a promise, every grind of my hips a dare. She glares up at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed.
“You’re not strong enough to break me,” she spits.
Perhaps that’s true. Her body is sturdy, her mind sharp, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.
“Watch me,” I answer, and I pick up the pace, pounding into her until the bed shakes, until the only sounds are her cries and the slap of skin, until her body arches up, meeting me thrust for thrust, until the anger dissolves into raw, unfiltered need.
I lean down, mouth at her ear, breath hot. “Say my name,” I demand. She bites my shoulder, trying to hold back, but I slam into her harder, relentless. “Say it, Suzy.”
She caves, her voice breaking. “Leon. Fuck, Leon!”
“That’s it,” I groan, thrusting harder, losing myself in the heat and wildness of her, letting every ounce of restraint bleed out between us.
She comes again, her body milking me, and I follow, spilling inside her with a shout, her name tearing loose from my throat.
We collapse together, bodies tangled, sweat-slick and trembling. I pull her close, bury my face in her hair, arms locking around her without thought. Her breathing is ragged, heartbeat wild beneath my palm.
For a long time, we don’t move. The anger, the fear, the years of war and wanting—none of it matters now. She curls against me, her head on my chest, one arm thrown over my ribs. I stroke her back, thumb tracing lazy circles at her waist.
The silence is different now: softer, warmer. She sighs, her breath sweet on my skin. I press a kiss to her forehead, closing my eyes, letting the exhaustion and the quiet claim us both.
Chapter Fifteen - Suzy
I wake tangled in sheets that cost more than my first car—soft, slick, heavy with last night’s sweat and the scent of roses wilting on the dresser.
For a heartbeat, I let myself stay. Leon’s arm is draped over my waist, warm and solid, his chest pressed tight against my back.
The room is still and golden, sunlight fanning over the ceiling like a blessing. If I close my eyes, I can almost believe in peace. In safety. In a world where I could want him without consequence.
The illusion cracks as soon as I open my eyes. There’s no mistaking where I am—the high windows, the acres of polished stone, the hush that’s too deliberate to be comforting. The ache between my legs, the sting of his stubble on my skin, the memory of his mouth on my throat. All of it slams into me at once. I go rigid, breath caught, every muscle tensed for flight.
He shifts behind me, not quite awake but already watchful. I can feel his eyes on me. My skin prickles under the weight of him, a shiver running through me that has nothing to do with cold. I twist out from under his arm before I’ve even thought it through, scrambling for distance, for dignity, for air.
My feet hit the floor. I grab the first thing I can—one of his silk robes, ludicrously soft, impossibly expensive, the belt dragging as I cinch it tight around my waist.
Leon props himself up on one elbow, watching in silence, his hair mussed, his face unreadable.
“You’re my wife, Suzy,” he says, voice heavy with sleep and something harder. “Stop pretending you don’t want me.”
The words land like a slap. Shame flares hot across my cheeks. I hate how my body reacts—how my skin tingles from his touch, how the memory of his hands makes my breath hitch even as I glare at him.
I want to spit back something cruel, to tell him he’s wrong, to remind him I didn’t choose any of this, but my mouth won’t cooperate.
I bolt before he can see me falter. The bedroom door slams behind me, echoing down a hallway that’s all marble and mirrors and nowhere to hide. The walls feel closer now, the hush oppressive, the faint scent of Leon’s cologne trailing after me as I hurry past shuttered windows and silent portraits. Every bootstep I imagine behind me is a reminder: I’m not free. Not really.
