Soon his hips are snapping hard against mine, every thrust deeper and harder. I can’t stop smiling as he ruts against me, fucking me deeply and properly. I love watching this measured, controlled man lose himself in my body. It makes me feel…powerful.
My muscles are exhausted from stretching for him, but that doesn’t stop raging heat from pooling around my core. Slow contractions build inside me, my pussy clenching around James’s invading cock. I squeeze my eyes shut as I struggle to handle the competing sensations of exhaustion, pleasure, and pain. On top of me, James’s expression is taut.
“I’m close,” he grunts. “Can you come with me?”
“Yes. Please, fuck, yes.”
His cock pulses inside me, releasing deep inside me. His roar of satisfaction unlocks me. My orgasm wrings me out, intense waves of pleasure crashing over me and pulling me under until all conscious thought is erased. I’m just a body, coming down from the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
James pulls out of me and rolls over on his back. For a long moment, we lie next to each other, our legs tangled together as our heart rates come down. We don’t speak, but we don’t need to. There’s nothing more to say.
Suddenly, James sits up, swinging his feet down to the floor. He stands, his muscled back facing me.
“I should shower,” he says. His voice is neutral, clinical almost. “If we want the highest chance of this pregnancy taking, you should lie on your back for twenty more minutes.”
I almost forgot. This wasn’t a husband and wife consummating their relationship, but an attempt to fulfil the other half of our contract. The baby.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He walks into his ensuite bathroom, closing the door behind him. After a moment, I hear the shower turning on. I stare at the ceiling, processing what just happened.
I don’t feel sad or abandoned. Just…conflicted. I can’t believe how good that was, how right it felt to watch him come undone. Part of me wishes he would stay to hold me a little longer, but it’s probably better this way.
Still, as I stare at the ceiling, I can't help thinking about that boy from the gala. The one who brought me cake when I was locked in a storage room, treated like an afterthought. He didn't try to fix anything or make grand promises. He just…stayed. Kept me company. Made me feel less alone.
James left for the shower the moment he was done. It's what we agreed to. It's what makes sense.
So why does it make me feel like that little girl in the storage room again, watching someone walk away?
I need to remember that this isn’t a real marriage, no matter how much my body tries to forget it.
Because if I let myself go there—ifwelet ourselves go there—I’ll only end up hurting him in the end. The truth is, I can’t grow old with someone, can’t enjoy a full life of love and travel and children.
I could never give James forever.
10
JAMES
The sun normally isn’t up when I make my morning coffee. I like to get to the gym before work, so my alarm usually goes off at five. The day after my wedding night, it felt fair to sleep in a bit. Sunlight streams through the kitchen windows as I prepare myself a pot.
While it brews, I open my tablet to go over my schedule for the day. I have meetings with the Pages team later today. I’m eager to meet with both our heads of content and discuss the first projects we want to collaborate on. There’s an unreleased fantasy series from a buzzy author I have my eye on. If it’s good, it could be Sequel’s answer toGame of Thrones.
As I flip over to the weekly view to see what I need to prepare for, my mind starts wandering to last night. I can still see Maura’s beautiful face, twisted in bliss as I bottomed out inside her. I never imagined the sex with us would be that good, and Idefinitelydidn’t imagine she’d take my entire cock on the first go. Usually, women find my size more exciting in theory than in practice. Maura took everything I gave her and more.
When I got out of the shower last night, she was gone—back to her own bedroom, presumably. I felt a small twinge ofdisappointment that I didn’t get to say goodnight, but it was for the best. I don’t expect us to actually sleep together, and it’s good to establish a routine early.
The coffeemaker dings, letting me know it’s ready. I’m pouring myself a cup when I hear a soft voice say, “Good morning.”
I look up, finding Maura walking into the kitchen, wrapped in a soft blue robe. She’s barefoot, her hair finger-combed and slightly messy. I’ve never seen her without make-up, I realize. I didn’t think much about it, since her look is so subtle. With her eyes framed with auburn lashes instead of black, they look even softer than usual.
I like her like this—less Victor’s polished doll, and more like herself.
“I feel a bit underdressed,” she says, her eyes flicking down to my suit and tie.
“I have some meetings in the office later today.”
“Oh.” She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, if you need to go, don’t let me keep you.”
