Chapter 44

Quentin

As my climax spills out of me, she sucks it down. With her cheeks hollowed and drops of my cum clinging to her lips, she's the most beautiful thing I"ve ever seen. She's perfect. My wife wearing the evidence of my desire is a sight I'll never forget.

I reach down and wrap my fingers about her slim throat.

Her breathing speeds up. The pulse under my fingers spikes. She continues to suck me off, but her gaze is on mine. When she's done, I urge her to her feet and kiss her, enjoying the taste of my cum in her mouth. I reach under her skirt and between her legs and stiffen. "You didn't wear panties?"

She tips her head. "Does that make you happy?"

"It makes me"—I wrap my other hand about her hip and boost her up—"fucking horny."

She gasps as she wraps her legs around my waist. I press her back into the wall, so my dick stabs between her legs.

"Again?" she gasps.

"And again, and again." I fit myself at her entrance, then impale her. She groans; so do I.

"You're so fucking tight, baby."

Her inner walls ripple around me, and I almost come again. I grit my teeth, press my forehead to hers and draw in a breath, another. I stare into those stormy green eyes of hers and find myself drowning all over again. I stay there, thickening further, pressing against her inner walls.

It's only when she digs her heels into my back that I begin to move. I pry her fingers off my shoulders and pin them to the wall. I pull out of her and thrust back in.

She gasps, "Do it again," and arches her back. I bend and close my mouth around her swollen nipple, and she cries out.

That sends me over the edge. I kick my hips forward and bury myself to the hilt. When she whimpers, I know I've hit that space deep inside of her. She tilts her hips and tries to get even closer. That's when I begin to hammer into her, over and over again, until she wails and her body shudders as she comes. Her eyelids flutter down.

"Eyes on me," I order.

She cracks her eyelids open, and I hold her gaze as, with a groan, I empty myself inside of her. She slumps, and I catch her and hold her close. Chest to chest, the beating of her heart synchronizes with mine. When I pull out of her, my cum trickles out, and I push it back in.

"What are you doing?" she moans.

"Making sure every drop of my cum finds a home with you."

She bites her lower lip. "That's filthy. And I should find it dirty, but I don't."

A hot sensation stabs at my chest. It's incredible how much she's changed, and how she's learned to indulge her fantasies without any trace of embarrassment turns me on even more.

"There's no need to hide your sexual perversions with me. There's no reason not to revel in your kinks, baby."

She half smiles. "I didn't realize I was looking for permission?—"

"Until now."

She nods, then cups my cheek. "You're spoiling me."

"Of course, I'm spoiling you. Who else would spoil you?" Darkness sweeps over my mind. I hadn't wanted to fuck her. I stayed away from her, hoping to wean myself off of her. I hoped to put distance between us so I could work up the courage to tell her I was leaving her. But one look at her on her knees in front of me, and I wasn't able to stop myself from fucking her. The connection between us is stronger than ever.

At this rate, I'll never be able to leave her. And I must, or risk hurting us both in a way that ensures the kind of pain from which we"d never recover.

I lower her to her feet, then walk out of the shower cubicle to grab a washcloth and wet it. I return, wipe between her legs, and throw the washcloth aside, then straighten her clothes. "You should go."

"What? Why?" The light in her eyes fades. "Aren't you coming with me?"

When I don't reply, her lips turn down. "But I"ve missed you, Q."

I"ve missed you, too.I want to tell her that, but my tongue seems unable to form the words. Instead, I dry myself with a towel before dropping it in the laundry basket in the corner. I open the door set into the wall next to it which leads to a built-in closet. I pull on my pants, and a button-down shirt.

I sense her moving toward me and know I have to stop her. If she touches me, I won't be able to stop myself from fucking her again. And I can't afford to do that. Not now. So, I scowl at her over my shoulder. "What are you doing here anyway?"

She pauses halfway across the bathroom. "Shouldn't I be the one to ask those questions, considering I haven't seen you home in the last four days?"

A flush heats the back of my neck. She's right to ask, not that I have any answers for that... At least, none that I'm prepared to give her. So instead, I pretend to be occupied with buttoning up my shirt. "Do you need anything? If it"s about your painting supplies?—"

"Thanks for ordering them, but that's not what I need right now."

"Oh?" I tuck my shirt, zip my pants, then turn to face her. "What else do you need?"

"You." She closes the distance to stand in front of me. "I need you, Q. I need my husband."

My heart fucking hurts, but I keep my emotions off my face and school my features into a bored look. "I fucked you already, didn't I?"

She winces. "That's not what I meant. And you know that. You weren't like this on our honeymoon. What's happening, Q? Why are you pulling away from me? Why are you trying your best to hurt me?"

Because I want you to realize I'm not good for you. I'm not right for you. I want you to realize you married the wrong man. A man who'll never love you the way you deserve to be. A man who's going to hurt you even more. Because I want you to hate me, so when I leave you, I can do so without breaking your heart.

She searches my features, sadness writ into hers. "I thought, especially after what happened with Karma, you'd realize life is short. That you'd cherish every moment we have together."

The disappointment in her features cuts me to the core. I take a step in her direction, intent on soothing her, then stop myself.

"Why should I, when what we have is not a real marriage?" I make sure my voice is cold when it feels like someone has gouged a hole in my chest.

She looks stricken. The color fades from her features, and she swallows hard. Then her eyes flash. "How dare you! How dare you insinuate what we have isn't genuine? And after everything we've done together!" she spits out.

My entire body feels like I've turned to stone. Sweat pools under my armpits. I move toward the dressing-bench in the closet and take a seat, then begin to pull on my socks, so I have something to do with my hands instead of pulling her into my arms. "Just because I taught you to enjoy kink, and gave you a few orgasms, doesn't mean what we have is real."

She gasps. "I can't believe you said that."

"Believe it." I slide my feet into my shoes, then rise to my feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me?—"

"No, I won't." Her eyes spit sparks at me. "Not until you tell me why you're working so late every day? Why are you avoiding me? What are you not telling me?"

Rage turns her cheeks into a shade of dusky pink which stops me in my tracks. She's magnificent, my Raven. My wife. And I'm forcing myself to do this.

"Not everything I do is about you." I slide my hand into my pocket and look her up and down, managing not to show any emotion. "You forget, I have a business to run. Which necessitates putting in hours in the office when needed."

"So you can add to your billions?" she scoffs.

"My money certainly was a key reason you decided to marry me." I watch her keenly, waiting to see what she'll say next.

She swallows; some of the anger on her face dissipates. "I needed the money when we met. But it's not the only reason I married you, and you know that."

Don't say it. Not now. I don't want to know if you have feelings for me. Don't make this more difficult than it already is. Give me a way out. Tell me you hate me for fucking you the way I did. Tell me you can't wait to get away from me. Tell me, before I'm forced to break your heart, because I'll never be able to forgive myself if I do.

I shutter my features and pretend to have a polite interest. "Do I?" I ask in a toneless voice.

"I thought"—she swallows—"I thought you cared for me. I thought you wanted more. I thought you said we had something special. That even though you felt terrible about hurting Felix, nothing could stop you from marrying me. That you wanted a future together."

My heart stutters. She's right on all these accounts but I can't admit that to her. Instead, I ensure my expression remains stony. "It's true I wanted to get Felix on board before we married. And I have you to thank for making that happen. As for the rest, you thought wrong. The only reason I married you was to ensure my role as CEO within the Davenport group is confirmed."

And because I love you and need you in my life, but I don't dare tell you that.

She draws in a sharp breath. "How can you say that? How can you pretend whatever happened between us doesn't matter when I know it did. I've seen that look in your eyes when you're inside me. I've seen you watch me when we're in a room together. You can't take your gaze off me."

I raise my shoulder. "What can I say? I'm a good actor. I needed to convince my family our connection was genuine. Seems I also convinced you in the process."

"I don't believe you." She shakes her head. "I don't."

My wife knows me too well. Fuck. Why is this so difficult? Why does it feel like I've aimed a gun at my temple and am about to pull a trigger?

I wall off the churning sensation in my guts and lift my chin. "It's true. I saw you and wanted you. I went into this marriage thinking it could be more than an arrangement of convenience, but?—"

"But—?" She swallows.

"I realize now, I was fooling myself. I don't want a relationship that will tie me down."

"You don't?"

I set my jaw and inject scorn into my voice when I drawl. "Someone in my position, and with my life experience… You didn't think you could satisfy all my needs, did you?"

The blood drains from her face.

She's watching me closely, watching my mouth make the words like she has to confirm to herself it's me who"s doing the talking. I'm sorry, baby. So sorry. But it's for the best.

"You… You don't mean it," she chokes out. "The Quentin I know is not someone who'd walk all over my heart. Your gruff demeanor hides the more vulnerable parts of you." She takes a step forward. "That's it, isn't it? I make you feel a lot. You look at me and realize you can't run from your emotions anymore. It makes you feel exposed and raw and emotionally naked. Well, guess what? Welcome to the land of the living."

A tension grips me. I grit my teeth so hard, my jaw muscles protest. What is she talking about? That makes no sense. I'm not scared of feeling, and I do feel emotions. Only, I had to lock them away so I could do my duty. And even there, you failed them. You couldn't protect Ryot's wife.

But I can protect Ravennow. Because I love her, I can push her away. I can do this for her, so she gets the life she deserves. I draw on that coldness inside me which allowed me to make decisions on a mission.

"Nothing you say will make me change my mind." I narrow my gaze on her.

She flinches.

"My mind is made up. Our relationship is one of mutual advantage. And I"ve done my part." My voice emerges cold and hard, while my entire body shrinks from my words.

"What do you mean?" she cries.

"Your sister's future is set. Your father has been accepted into the trial for the experimental treatment at Johns Hopkins."

"He has?" Her features light up.

And despite the fact I've locked away my emotions, a soft sensation seeps into my chest. Jesus, I love this woman.

All the more reason you need to distance yourself from her.

Her lips curve. "That could be potentially?—"

"Lifesaving—" I nod. "If it succeeds, it will change the quality of his life for the better moving forward."

"That…" She locks her fingers together. "That's incredible, thank you."

"So, there's no reason for us to stay married anymore," I manage to say the words without faltering. In fact, I sound positively convincing.

"And what about your role as the CEO?"

"Arthur emailed the company. He confirmed my position as CEO of the group company. There is no need for this charade to continue."

Of course, I'm not accepting the role.I already told Arthur I'm stepping down and he should give the role to one of my nephews. But there's no need to tell her that, yet.

The smile fades from her face, then she marches over to me and stabs a forefinger into my chest. "Pardon me for not believing this bull crap you're spouting, but you care for me, Q. I've seen it in your eyes. I've seen it when you fuck me. I've seen it when you hold my gaze as you come inside of me. It"s why you remember I like cappuccino and made my coffee exactly the way I enjoy it. It"s why you went so far as to note the kind of painting supplies I use, and why you bought me more that matched my specifications. Besides, you all but told me that you love me. You"—she juts out her chin—"you, do love me."

"I don't." I look her up and down, managing to infuse disdain into my perusal of her body.

From the corner of my eye, I see her raise her arm, but I don't budge. Don't avoid what I know is coming. And when her palm connects with my cheek, I welcome the burn. I relish the sting, knowing if I were to look in the mirror, I'd see the shape of her fingerprints on my face. I want her mark of possession on my body.

"That"s for being such an ass." She shakes the hair back from her face. "But you should know, I'm not falling for the act."

"Eh?" I frown. "What do you mean?"

"You're saying the words you think will push me away from you, but it's not going to happen. I might be your submissive in bed, but in real life, I can go toe-to-toe with you. I'm not going to let you wear me down. I'm a painter. The one thing I am is patient, not to mention, persistent. Every painting has a rhythm, a code I need to understand to unlock its secrets, and I think I'm beginning to understand yours. That's what"s making you run scared." She scans my features. "Am I right?"

A strange sensation tightens my chest. What the fuck? What is she talking about? I've been trying my best to make her see I'm all wrong for her, but I don't seem to be getting through. If anything, it seems to have the opposite effect. I shake my head. "You're wrong. But what-fucking-ever. If you want to spin stories in your head, who am I to stop you?"

I turn to leave, when she calls out to me, "Q?"

I stop.

"You think if you ignore me and put distance between us, I'm going to give up on you, but you're wrong. You think you can push me away but I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be waiting for you to come back and apologize to me for being such a douchebag, and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it, I promise you."