“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” I growl against her lips, my own body coiling like a spring, ready to snap. “Look at me while you break.”
I don’t give her a choice. I keep her pinned, forcing her to witness the exact moment I destroy what’s left of her composure.
The tremors start deep inside her, a violent, rhythmic tightening that ripples through her entire body. Her eyes are wide, glassy, and fixed on mine as she hits the wall of her climax. She lets out a broken, high-pitched cry that shatters against the ceiling, her back arching so high her head almost leaves the pillow. She’s vibrating, her muscles clenching around me with a desperate, suffocating intensity that finally snaps the last thread of my own control.
I let out a low, guttural roar, my vision turning white at the edges. I drive into her one last time, buried as deep as I can go, and freeze. The world falls away. My muscles turn to stone, and I pour everything—every bit of the tension, the rage, and the terrifying need I’ve felt since she walked into my life—into her.
For a heartbeat, the room is silent, save for the sound of our souls colliding.
Then, the gravity returns.
I collapse forward, my forehead resting against hers for a jagged, breathless second before I find the strength to move.I pull out of her slowly, the separation feeling like a physical wound, and roll onto my back.
We lie there, side by side, our bodies slick with sweat and the air in our lungs coming in ragged, broken gasps. The silence that follows isn’t peaceful; it’s heavy, thick with the weight of a boundary crossed that can never be rebuilt. My heart is still slamming against my ribs like a caged beast, and I can hear the echo of her pulse in the quiet.
I stare up at the ceiling, my hand twitching at my side, inches away from hers, but not touching. The strategist in me is already counting the cost, but for right now, the only thing that matters is the heat of her skin next to mine and the realization that neither of us is coming out of this unscathed.
I turn my head slightly, my gaze settling on Valeria. Her eyes are closed, her breathing slow and even. For the first time since she walked into my world, she doesn’t look like she’s bracing for impact.
She looks…peaceful.
The thought unsettles me more than the chaos ever could.
Because if her plan—marriage, an heir, securing her place—is real…then tonight may have already shifted things in ways neither of us planned.
The implication sits heavy in my chest.
I exhale, shaking my head slightly, trying to push the thought away.
“Maybe,” I say, voice rough from disuse, “the marriage you proposed earlier…isn’t such a ridiculous idea after all.”
Her eyes snap open instantly.
The calm is gone. Replaced with sharp awareness. Calculation.
“It’s the sex, isn’t it?” she says.
I frown. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She scoffs, already pulling away from me. The shift is immediate—like a switch flipping. She slips out of the bed, grabbing her sweatpants and pulling them on, followed quickly by her shirt.
I watch her, a hint of amusement tugging at me despite everything.
“Not interested anymore?” I ask, voice low. “In the marriage you were so determined about?”
She turns to face me, expression cool, composed—like the last few minutes never happened.
“Of course I am,” she says. “But let’s be clear.”
Her tone sharpens.
“Whatever that was…it doesn’t change anything. My life is still in danger. Your house was just attacked because of me. This situation hasn’t magically turned into something else.”
She holds my gaze, unwavering.
“Our relationship is still strategic.” A pause. Then, colder: “That meant nothing. Just a lapse.”
The words land more heavily than they should.
