Bronx follows with a guttural curse, slamming home one last time, pulsing hot and deep inside me.
“Fuck me…” he grits. “I’ve wanted to do that since Bucharest.”
The words don’t come out smug or triumphant.
He doesn’t pull out right away. Rather, he keeps me pinned to the tile, to him, and presses his forehead against mine as our breathing slows.
In the dim light, I catch something in his eyes I haven’t seen before.
“Still think you don’t fancy me?” he murmurs, voice thick.
I swallow hard, the angst twisting like a knife.
“Just because we fucked doesn’t mean we put labels on things.”
Because if this continues, I’m the one walking away broken.
“Sure,” he says, lips brushing mine. “You can wear my ring, sleep in my bed, watch me when you think I don’t notice and now—” he grins “—take my cum. We won’t label any of it, wife.”
The generator kicks in, and light floods the shower room.
I unlock my legs and stand on shaky legs, doing my best to stand tall. “As long as we both understand each other.”
“I understand you enjoy showering with me.” He winks and I nibble my lower lip to hide a smile.
“I like water and sex, Bronx.” I move around him.
“Good to know,” he says over my shoulder.
I leave him to wash his hair and wrap a towel around mychest, noticing how the attraction still simmers and the ache in my core still burns hot.
Truth is, I walked into this marriage ready to fight a monster. But somewhere along the way, I caught feelings for him instead.
Connor’s out there planning his future, building a life while I’m losing myself to the man who controls us both. And I don’t know if that makes me weak or completely fucked.
Either way, there’s no going back now.
My guard slipped, and I let him in.
And God help me, I want to do it all over again.
18
BRONX
Waking up with Tierney's naked body pressed against mine should feel like a victory.
But it really feels more like I'm fucked.
She's still asleep, face buried in my neck, one leg thrown over my hips like she owns me. A half smirk lifts my lips. She’d hate it if she could see herself right now.
Her breathing is soft and even, and she looks nothing like the hellcat who clawed up my back in the shower yesterday.
My dick's already hard again just thinking about it. The way she fought me, the way she finally surrendered, the sounds she made when I was buried deep inside her.
But lying here in the quiet, all I can think about is how she looked at me afterward. Not like I'd just fucked her senseless. Like maybe she was starting to trust me.
And then she disappeared into Connor’s apartment for the rest of the night like she couldn’t stand to be around me.
