Chapter Thirty-Three

Present

“H ow long have you been watching me?” I stare at him through drenched lashes, my arms hiding my breasts from his intent gaze.

“Long enough to know something’s bothering you.”

Gritting my teeth, I say, “Watching someone swim naked isn’t very gentlemanly.”

“Well, we both know I am no gentleman. And let’s not forget you are my wife.”

Unbelievable. He thinks reminding me I’m his wife is supposed to justify everything! It’s infuriating, the way he disregards decency and expects me to accept it. And to think, he didn’t even bother to talk to me when he was in Dubai, but had the audacity to demand hourly update on me through Vicky and his staff. Like I am his property. The nerve of him.

And it’s not beyond him to strip right then and there and join me without hesitation. He’s done it before. And after what happened tonight, I am in no mood for that. Especially when I am getting more proofs of his true nature. I lift my chin. “I want to step out. Leave.”

Instead of leaving, the infuriating man shrugs out of his suit jacket, drops it unceremoniously on the floor then reaches for a towel draped on the chaise lounge. I watch with pursed lips as he walks to the edge and stands there with that towel stretched out, waiting.

When I just glare, he raises his eyebrow. I don’t know why but that little action sets me off. I’m not known for a bad temper. Even after learning that his intentions for marrying me weren’t based on love, I was more heartbroken than angry.

Despite knowing he’s baiting me and I shouldn’t engage, I can’t help myself. He thinks I will stay in the pool like a prude. Well, even if that’s true, I want to prove him wrong.

Eyes locked with his, I move purposefully toward the edge of the pool. As I step out, the cool water trickles down my bare skin, sending a shiver through me. The air feels colder against my wet body, heightening my awareness of every inch.

“You’re shameless.” I snap but he doesn’t seem to be listening. He is too busy staring, his dark eyes clinging to my naked breasts before gliding down to my flat stomach, then to my hips and the dark triangle of hair below.

Shuddering—not entirely because of the cold air—I snatch the towel from him and wrap it around my body. “I hate you.”

His hands slide smoothly into the pockets of his black trousers. “You desperately want to but can’t.”

“Actually, you make it pretty easy,” I retort, tightening the towel around me. I turn to leave, but before I can take a step, his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me back to face him.

“Why are you upset?”

“Because you came back,” I tell him coldly.

“Let’s not entertain that lie. I was referring to your unexpected late-night swim. It’s quite out of character for you.”

“Maybe I’ve changed. Get used to it!” I snap.

He angles his dark head and studies me. “Wasn’t that you who couldn’t keep your hands off me before I left for Dubai?”

I feel my face heat up instantly. I can’t even look him in the eye. My mind races, scrambling for a response, but nothing coherent comes to mind. He’s right, of course, I was the one clinging to him that night after the charity gala but admitting that would mean giving him the upper hand.

Not wanting to fall for his provocations, I turn away. I rush toward the door, ready to slip away before things escalate, but he interrupts me. “Did you sleep well without me?”

He damn well knows the answer. Every time he’s away, it’s like I’m stranded in a storm, all alone. I’ve never told him how desperate those nights can get—how I lie there, trying to conjure the scent of his skin, the steady rhythm of his breathing beside me. He knows how much I am dependent on him. And now, he’s using it to cut straight through me, like he enjoys seeing me unravel, knowing he’s the only one who can stitch me back together.

“Like a baby,” I taunt, not bothering to turn. There’s a satisfaction in my voice that surprises even me. “I slept even better without you.”

I wait for his retort, but I’m met with silence. Just as I’m about to revel in my victory, I gasp sharply when his hand settles on my hip. “Damian! I don’t know what you’re thinking—”

He pulls me to him, his shirt grazing my naked shoulders. “Oh, yes, you do.”

I freeze when he gathers my hair and pushes it off to one side. My heart starts beating fast when I feel his breath on my neck. “Don’t touch me.” I try to pull away but he tightens his grip on my hip.

“I’m going to touch you,” he whispers brushing his lips against the side of my neck, making me shiver. “Because you want me to.”

He slides his other hand around my front and reaches up where I’ve tucked the edge of the towel between my breasts. But before he can unwrap it, I squirm away, tightening my grip on the towel.

I glare at him. “No! I don’t.”

He smiles. “Liar.”

I can’t believe there was a time when I lived for his smiles. Now, his smile is dark and predatory, like a shark’s, and it makes me want to scratch his eyes out. “Stop smiling!”

“You’ve really changed. Where’s my sweet angel, and what have you done with her?” he mocks, a smirk playing on his lips.

“She grew up and realized angels don’t belong in hell,” I snap back, glaring at him. I push at his chest when he draws me closer, his arms caging me in.

“Enough!” he jerks me a bit and I look up at him, shocked and find his jaw ticking. “You might have slept well these past nights, but I sure as hell didn’t,” he asserts, his voice low and deep. “Even with the crisis in Dubai consuming me day and night, my thoughts kept drifting back to you. I’d lie awake, hard as a rock, imagining your body pressed against mine, your breath quickening with my every touch. I couldn’t escape the need, the hunger for you.”

I take in the dark shadow covering his jaw and search his tired but determined black eyes.

And just like that, the small spark inside me becomes a raging, burning need. I feel so ashamed that his words alone managed to make me this hot that my breasts feel swollen and sensitive beneath the towel. So ashamed that even after everything, I crave to be with him.

I manage a shaky little laugh. “The act would’ve worked in the past, but it’s not going to work this time!”

That makes him angry because his soft lips twist in contempt. “Exactly. It worked before, and it will work now too. If you’d just quit the drama, I’d be inside you now.”

Trembling with anger, my hand flies up of its own volition but steel-hard fingers seize my wrist mid-air. The silence that follows seems to go on forever. The realization of what I was about to do makes my throat dry. Dark fury flares in his eyes, making me step back instinctively.

I massage my bruised wrist, my heartbeat thumping loudly in my ears. “I hate you.” When I begin backing away. He erases the gap between us and grabs my hips to jerk me closer. “Do you think I love you?” he scans my face with scorchingly angry eyes. “Do you think I enjoy wanting you this much? Do you think I’m proud to give in to my desire for you again and again?”

I stop breathing altogether. “Then why are you here? If you hate yourself for wanting me then why bother?”

“Because you owe me.”

I push his chest hard and back away. “I owe you nothing. Do you hear me? I owe you nothing at all!”

When he just steadily watches me, I turn away, ready to get the hell out of the pool area.

“You are so much more entertaining now than you were back then.”

How dare he? At this point I’m vibrating with fury. I don’t know whether to turn back and engage in yet another fight or just run.

“Run,” he says, making me look over my shoulder. “In the past, you were so docile. So compliant. But now you have turned into this wild creature and suddenly I am in the mood to hunt.” He smiles and a shiver runs down my spine. He slides his hands in his pocket. “So, run, River. Because this time, I don’t want your submission. I want your fight. And I promise I’ll give you what you want.”

“And what is it that I want?” I try for sarcasm and fail.

“What you want is for me to chase you and take you so thoroughly you’ll beg me to lock us up in our bedroom for a week straight.”

His words wash over me, drenching me in fear and excitement, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I’ll give you a head start. You always complained about how big our mansion is. Pick a spot and hide. If I find you, you’ll welcome me in your body. Willingly.”

“And if I win?”

“I’ll take a cold shower.”

I bite my lip in contemplation. Is this a trick? Why is he suddenly giving me an out?

“Run, River. Or did you change your mind? Want me to take you right here?” He arches his eyebrows. When he takes a step toward me, I snap out of my stupor and run. Adrenaline floods my veins.

With a hand clutching the towel, I sprint down the grand hallway. The marble floors are cold beneath my bare feet, and the chill of the winter night seeps through the grand windows.

The mansion is eerily silent tonight. Not even Vicky in sight. Then I remember he always clears the staff upon his return from trips. Each second feels like an eternity, my heart hammering in my chest. My footsteps echo loudly as I dart toward the stairs. But before I can ascend, I hesitate. This is madness. Why the hell am I running?

Because he manipulated you into playing his game that’s why .

And now if I didn’t run… didn’t hide, he will… I shake my head frantically to stop the series of obscene images our lovemaking. As if my brain wasn’t torturing me enough, it replays Damian’s words from moments ago.

Do you think I love you? Do you think I enjoy wanting you this much? Do you think I’m proud to give in to my desire for you again and again?

I squeeze my eyes shut, but doing that only makes me remember the disdain I saw in his eyes when he said those things to me. It stripped away another layer of my dignity. And tonight, I was going to slap him… I am not a violent person. How did I reach the point of wanting to hit someone? Hit Damian? Pain begins to coil like a barb wire around my chest.

I freeze when I hear a faint noise behind me—a door opening in the distance. Panic grips me and I turn a corner and run further and further down this wing and dive into a random room.

It’s dark in here but I manage to register that I’m inside our library. I quickly move across the room and hide, pressing myself against the bookshelves. The room is pretty dark, shadows play tricks on my eyes as I hold my breath.

I feel the towel start to loosen. Frustrated, I grab the ends and pull them taut, securing the towel tightly around me once more.

“River…” I hear him call out from the hallway, just outside the library and I jump. A shudder spreads through me for an entirely different reason than the cool touch of the bookshelf against my back.

I stand there, my heart racing like a wild stallion against my ribcage.

Snap out of it! I scold myself inwardly.

He dared me, with that infuriatingly calm tone of his, to run. This… game or challenge or whatever is a twisted dance of dominance and submission. Anger simmers beneath my skin which is an appropriate reaction… but so does an illicit thrill that I refuse to acknowledge.

I don’t know why I did the exact opposite of what’s logical. I took part in his game. And now I am stuck here without clothes, breathless.

The silence stretches agonizingly. Just as I begin to relax, a shadow looms in the doorway. “I know you’re in here, angel,” he calls out softly, his voice sending chills down my spine. “There’s no use hiding.”

His footsteps draw closer, slow and deliberate, each step a taunt to make me sweat.

“You can hide now but you know you’ll submit later.” His velvety smooth voice echoes in the quiet room.

I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, but my pulse betrays me, quickening at his words.

I swallow hard, trying to regulate my breathing as his gaze sweeps the room, a calculated predator assessing his domain.

Biting my lip, I nervously stare around and spot a small, delicate statuette nestled on a nearby shelf. As he takes a step closer, I move swiftly. With my heart beating out of my chest, I throw it with all my might in the other direction.

It crashes on the floor with a loud clatter, its delicate form breaking into pieces. His attention snaps to the sound, giving me the split-second advantage I need.

Adrenaline propels me forward, bare feet barely touching the ground as I come out of my hiding spot to dart past him.

His reflexes are fast, he turns and reaches for me. I give a little cry as his fingers suddenly closes on the edge of my towel. The force causes my body to spin and when I come to a stop, I’m facing him, eyes wide as I see him holding one end of my towel in his hand while I cling to the other, my body scarcely covered.

I struggle to tug it from his grasp, my heart pounding. Damian smiles, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watches me. A smile that was so beautiful once is now frightening.

He doesn’t pull the towel even though he can. Easily. He is toying with me. I clutch it harder and try again.

He looks amused, his hand continuing to grip the towel. I meet his gaze nervously. I’m breathing hard while he is calm and confident. We look at each other for what feels like forever before he suddenly loosens his grip. I’m stunned as I quickly wrap the towel back around myself, my mind racing.

It’s confusing. He is letting me go when he had me. Why? He had clearly won. He slips his hands into his pockets and gives me another smile. Like he expects me to start running again.

Whatever it is, I don’t dwell on it much. I turn swiftly and bolt out of the library. My insides are going haywire. Oh, God! What’s happening to me? I’m feeling like an innocent little virgin all over again, going crazy over just the slightest touch of his fingers. I almost collide with a servant’s cart in the way, narrowly avoiding it.

He is right on my heels. My legs tremble as I head straight for the staircase this time and ascend quickly.

My lungs burn with exertion as I reach the top and turn left. I duck into a guest bedroom, heart racing as I slam the door shut. But before I can lock it, Damian twists the knob, opening the door. I give a startled cry and attempt to push the door shut but he is much stronger than me.

I back away when he opens the door and charges inside.

Eyes wide, I watch as he kicks the door shut behind him. But instead of approaching me, he leans his back against the door.

“Damian…” My voice trails when he opens his arms. For me. The action makes my knees go weak. “Don’t.” The word breaks out of me in a whisper.

He doesn’t answer and I bite my trembling lower lip.

“You lost. Now, you’ll open yourself to me, willingly. Just like we agreed, right?”

“I-I…”

He puts his arms down and tilts his head, studying me. “What’s wrong? Are you too scared now? Should I take pity on you like I did in the library?”

“Stop talking!” I glare at him.

He sighs then pushes away from the door, straightening to his full height. Shaking his head, he turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

He stops, glancing over his shoulder with a bored expression. “I have no interest wasting my time on a coward.”

Stunned by his dismissal, I’m left standing there, utterly speechless. The humiliation burns deep, making my cheeks flush hot with anger and disbelief. How dare he call me a coward? His words hit like a slap in the face, igniting a fury I can barely contain. Who does he think he is, labeling me and then just sauntering off like it’s no big deal?

First, he manipulates me into playing this stupid game of hide and seek and then he has the audacity to belittle me like this?

I clench my fists. How can he just walk away, as if I’m not worth his time? The audacity of his arrogance sickens me. He’s crossed a line, and I won’t stand for it. No more. I won’t allow him to undermine me, to make me feel small and insignificant. This ends now.

I burst out of the guest room and go after him. I move swiftly down the hall. My gaze falls upon his discarded shirt lying carelessly on the floor just outside the master bedroom. The sight ignites a fresh wave of anger within me, propelling me forward.

I barge inside. The faint sound of the cascading water catches my attention. Fixing my gaze on the bathroom door, I stride forward. Gripping the handle, I swing the door open.

Through the glass wall, I see him standing under the shower. There is no steam, confirming his earlier declaration of taking a cold shower. The water rains down on him, the droplets glistening like diamonds as they cascade over his sculpted form.

His head is slightly bowed, dark hair slicked back, the water running in rivulets down his broad shoulders and across the expanse of his chest.

Striding forward, I yank the shower door open. His eyes snap open, meeting mine with a flicker of surprise.

Without a second thought, I step into the shower, the shock of icy water making me gasp. Ignoring the chill, I go on tiptoe and reach up, my fingers curling around the back of his neck to pull him down to my level. “I’m not a coward.” I grind out against his lips before I capture his mouth with mine, pouring all my pent-up emotion into the kiss. For a moment, he is still, then he makes a low, sexy sound in his throat, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer as he responds with equal fervor.

And just like that, everything changes. His passionate kisses work on my body and soul like black magic. I instantly forget everything. It makes my head spin dizzily.

A kiss is supposed to be just that. A kiss. And I know I don’t have anyone else to compare, but Damian’s kisses are like fireworks. When he drives his tongue shamelessly between my lips and tastes me, I forget even my own name.

And when he bends to lift me off the floor, I wrap my legs around him. His wicked mouth descends on the slope of my neck and I shiver. He mistakes it for cold because one of his hands leaves my ass for a second. Then suddenly the water’s temperature changes.

“Better?” he asks jerking me up in his arms to adjust his grip.

I nod. Then he pries my lips apart for another deep kiss. But this time it’s slow, unhurried. More erotic. The softness of his lips moving against mine, the deep, relaxed stroke of his tongue only notches up my craving higher.

My hand digs in his black hair when he breaks the kiss to explore my throat once again. “This is what I wanted,” he breathes against my skin. “I didn’t want to take from you, River. I wanted you to give freely.”

I pull his hair hard. “Shut up.”

I feel him smiling at my collarbone before he moves down. I cry out when his lips close around my pebbled nipple.

I didn’t even realize my towel had slipped and my breasts are now exposed to him. I look down and find him looking right at me, his mouth still attached to my nipple.

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking if I’ve changed my mind. Without breaking the eye contact, I tug his hair, forcing him to release my nipple with a pop. He stares at me waiting. I keep him guessing just for fun before redirecting his mouth to my other nipple, proving him that I didn’t change my mind.

I’m determined not to blow hot and cold. Now that I’m here, I don’t intend to turn back. I’m rewarded with a flick of his tongue before he draws the hard bud into his mouth and sucks earnestly.

After a few minutes, we are back to kissing. Roughly this time, our faces twisting and turning as we devour each other. The ache between my thighs is growing with every passing second and I squirm against him, gasping when the action rubs my sensitive nipples against his hair-roughened chest. It serves as both a punishment and a reward all at once. So I do it again, and end up rubbing his erection in the process.

I groan in frustration against his mouth, and squirm again. Damian suddenly sets me down on the shower floor. “What—”

He drops to his knees, then props my leg on his shoulder. I gasp when he starts eating me out. My eyes slam shut, my head banging against the wall as I tip it back.

He eats me like a starving man. A new kind of pleasure bubbles in me. This man, oversexed demanding man has always stayed loyal to me. Even when I ran from him. Even when I drugged him with my sleeping pills to get away, he managed to find me and bring me back.

He stayed faithful, not because he couldn’t stray, but because he simply didn’t want to. And that’s the sexiest thing ever.

We may still clash and I haven’t forgiven him for his past deceit but that doesn’t stop the raw, carnal passion that ignites every time we’re together.

Our chemistry is electric, a magnetic force that pulls us toward each other despite everything. Even in the heat of our arguments, the desire is always simmering just beneath the surface, ready to explode.

No matter how much we might fight or how deep the wounds may go, the attraction between us is undeniable. It’s a powerful, unstoppable force that keeps drawing us back together, making everything else fade away.

I whimper, running my fingers through his wet hair. His teeth grazes and nibbles at my flesh. His fingers dig on my thigh and ass as he keeps me still.

The need that was building inside me is threatening to tear me to shreds. And when he sucks at my clit, I lose my balance but Damian steadies me. He then puts my leg down and stands up. He sweeps me up off my feet and strides out of the bathroom. And without any grace, he throws me on our bed.

I prop myself on my elbows and watch as he crawls over me. “Ready for your husband?”

“I’m starting to miss the quiet version of you,” I grumble, breathless.

He uses one hand to tip my chin to kiss me hard, his teeth nipping at my lower lip. “Maybe I’ve changed too. Get used to it,” he repeats my words from earlier. He lowers his head grazing my temple with his nose.

“What’s gotten into you?” I narrow my eyes.

“You.” He nuzzles the tender skin of my throat with his stubble. I quiver and feel his smile again. With one hand I reach up to sink my fingers in his hair. I pull until we are staring into each other’s eyes. “Stop laughing at me.”

His response is another infuriating smile. His hand captures my breast and pinches my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I gasp.

“Tell me.” He commands.

I know what he wants to hear. He wants me to admit that I want him. He wants to hear how much I need him. This is one of his kinks. He was never vocal during sex but always made sure I screamed his name until my voice was hoarse. He made sure I was begging and delirious with need before he gave it to me. This is the pattern I am familiar with. His torment starts with this. Him making me admit all sorts of sordid things.

When I remain silent, he pinches my nipple again. Harder this time. Electricity zips through me. I slide my hand from the silky strands of his hair down to cup his strong, roughened jaw. My eyes, glazed and heavy-lidded with desire, meet his, letting him see just how much I want him. I slowly lean closer, letting my lips graze his ear. “Go to hell.”

I pull back and give him a taunting smile. When he keeps regarding me silently, I arch my eyebrow. Using the hand that was on my breast, he gives me a shove. My elbow buckles and my back lands on the bed.

Before I can recover, he captures the tortured nipple in his mouth while his other hand plays with other. My teeth clenches at the unbearable ache in my pussy.

Why is he giving in so easily? I thought my taunting would push him harder, ignite that fire in his eyes, and make him double his efforts to get what he wants from me. Instead, he’s retreating, and it’s throwing me off balance. I expected more determination. Not this.

Through glazed eyes, I watch his dark head moving against my pale skin. I watch his bronze fingers squeezing my breast. The vision along with the feeling of his hot mouth sucking me is too much. A low moan escapes from my treacherous lips. His answering groan, tinged with victory makes me realize that I lost the battle.

I jerk when the pads of his fingers brush against my clit. “You’re so wet.” He speaks against my nipple. “Like always.”

My face warms. “And you are a jerk. Like alwa—” My body almost comes off the bed when his fingers rub me. He studies me with concentration as I shudder. Then to double the torture, his mouth latches onto my nipple once again.

As his muscles flex under my hands, I realize I’ve been gripping his biceps. This is not right. I am losing control. Like always. I take my hands away and clutch the sheets beneath me. He doesn’t like that.

He releases my nipple and flicks his gaze to mine. I stare back even when I want to look away. I don’t want to admit defeat. But it’s hard. To keep looking at him when his palm is rocking between my thighs.

I gasp but quickly bite my lip to keep from crying out. The more I resist, the faster his hand moves. “Oh, God,” I moan. But at the gleam of satisfaction in his black eyes I retreat behind the mask of indifference, trying my best to give him nothing.

His eyes narrow and within seconds he is detangling himself from me and stands at the foot of the bed. I’m too stunned at the sudden change of action so I keep looking at him. He grabs my ankles and drags me to the edge of the bed then positions his cock against my aching center. “I was planning to take my time. I wanted to eat you out. Over and over again before we got to this part. But I think I’ll have to fuck the stubbornness out of you first.”

Against my better judgement, I glance down, shivering as he rubs the swollen head through my folds. I jerk and shudder when he slides it up and down.

“All out of snark, I see.”

With a glare, I say, “Fuck. You.”

That put an end to any gentleness he was showing toward me as he enters me in one powerful thrust. The sudden invasion makes me bite down on my lower lip. It had been months since we had sex and Damian is huge. So the flash of momentary pain was expected.

His breath comes out in a hiss. He pauses for a second or two before settling his hands on my hips and driving into me again. This time the sensation is so unbearably pleasurable that I moan loudly.

Damian eases his hips back and then pushes inside again. Deeper this time. From that point, he picks up the pace. My mind and body are at war as he moves inside me. My mind is screaming at me to remember all the coldness, the distance, the undeniable truth of our marriage. But my body, traitorous and weak, responds to him as if it knows doing that would please its owner. Him.

I try to keep quiet, to resist from showing how much I missed this. How much I longed for this. But every thrust, every touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. It’s maddening. I’m lost in the moment, letting my body take over, betraying everything I know is true.

He has thrived on my vocal responses in the past. Always made sure to drive me mad with pleasure until my throat is sore. And right now, he is doing just that. I should fight it, shouldn’t give what he wants. But I can’t. Not now. Not when he’s making me feel like this.

Every gasp, every moan, it’s like my body is mocking me, showing me how weak I am.

Building a punishing rhythm, he continues to fuck me. I tighten around him, my moans getting louder. I’m so close to coming.

“I can feel you clenching my cock. Missed me that much, angel?” he taunts.

“Fuck you!” I snarl.

He pulls out and shock floods me. No, no, no! How could he stop now? My body screams in frustration. I was so close! So close!

“Why did y—?” before I can finish my question, he climbs onto the bed, grabs my hips and pulls me on top of him. His dark eyes sweep over me, illuminated only by the faint light spilling from the bathroom.

He drags me up and closes his mouth hungrily over my nipple. I cry out, my head falling back. At the same time, he guides himself inside me. Gripping my ass, he starts fucking me again.

When I’m about to reach my peak, he slows down. Gritting my teeth, I dig my nails in his chest and attempt to increase the pace by bouncing faster but he easily controls me with his grip on my hips.

“Not so fast, angel.” His hands tighten their hold, keeping me from moving at the pace I crave. Every time I try to thrust down, he resists, pulling me back just enough to frustrate me.

A groan escapes my lips, a mix of pleasure and desperation. My body is trembling with the need for release, but he’s not giving it to me. Instead, he lifts his hips slightly, grinding into me in slow, agonizing circles that send sparks of pleasure through my entire being.

“Damian,” My voice a breathless whisper. “I need it.”

His eyes are dark and intense as he watches me struggle. “Say it, and I’ll give you what you want.”

I shake my head, defiant despite the overwhelming need coursing through me. “No,” I gasp, my nails digging deeper into his chest.

He watches the sweat coating my skin, takes in my unsteady breathing. “You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that,” he says, his grip on my hips tightening as he slows his movements even further, dragging out the torment. “But I can do this all night. How long can you hold out?”

The frustration builds, my body quivering with the need for release. Every slow thrust, every deliberate pause, drives me closer to the edge only to pull me back again. I can see the pleasure in his eyes.

“Just say it,” he urges, his voice a seductive growl. “Say you’re mine, and I’ll let you come.”

I bite my lip, refusing to give in. The tension inside me coils tighter and tighter, tears pricking my eyes.

He leans up to capture my lips in a searing kiss. “You’re so close,” he whispers against my mouth. “But you won’t get there until you admit it.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, and I moan in response, my body arching into his. He takes advantage of my vulnerability, one hand slipping between us to find my most sensitive spot. His fingers move in sync with his thrusts, adding another layer of pleasure to the mix.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. I’m caught in a whirlwind of sensation, every nerve ending on fire. I’m so close, but he keeps me there, denying me the sweet release.

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice rough with need. “Say you’re mine.”

“No,” I gasp, my voice breaking with need. “I won’t.”

He growls, the sound vibrating through me as he continues his ruthless pace, bringing me to the brink over and over. My body is a trembling, desperate mess above him, but he doesn’t relent.

But I can see it’s taking a toll on him. I am not the only one suffering. It’s in the strain in his eyes, the way his control is slipping. He’s as close as I am, barely holding on.

With a sudden surge, he flips us over, pinning me beneath him. His thrusts become harder, more frantic. And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he loses it. His release triggers mine, a wave of pleasure crashing over me so intense it leaves me sobbing.

As the last tremors of our shared climax fade, he collapses on top of me, breathing hard. His lips brush against my neck, his voice a low, serious murmur. “Next time, you’ll break.”

Not a chance. I meant it when I said I’ve changed. You won’t break me, husband. Not now, not ever. Not in this lifetime.