Page 58

Myhusband.God, yes. I hate that I like that.

I slide two fingers inside, watching her head fall back, her lips parting as a gasp escapes. She clenches around me like her body’s been waiting for this. Like I’m the only thing that can fill the aching space inside of her.

And maybe I am.

“Eyes on me, Eden,” I say roughly. “I want you to look at me when you come.”

She tries. God, she tries. But her eyes flutter closed when I curl my fingers, her body rocking against my hand, chasing the rhythm like it’s the only thing that matters.

And then she shatters.

With a soft cry and a trembling body, she comes in my arms. My name falls from her lips like a prayer, and I can’t fucking breathe.

Because this is more than want. More than lust.

It’s her trusting me enough to fall apart. And me wanting to be the only one who ever gets to see it again.

I circle her with one arm, the other still teasing the pleasure out of her. My mouth presses against hers, kissing her through her orgasm.

And when she finally comes down, she’s still breathless, her body slack and beautiful as I lay her on my bed. Her eyes are fluttering, her skin flushed from the pleasure I just gave her.

I want to lie down next to her. Wrap her in my arms and let her fall asleep against me.

But that’s not going to happen.

I stand. My hands shake as I grab the damn t-shirt off the floor and pass it over to her. “It’s been a long night.” My voice is harsher than I mean it to be. “Go get some sleep in your own room. I’ll make sure the housekeeper has it ready for Bennett first thing.”

She blinks at me. Like I slapped her. But she doesn’t argue. Maybe she knows how stupid this was. How wrong.

That I crossed the line way too far. I’m going to hell for this.

She doesn’t say a word. Just pulls the shirt over her head with trembling hands, her eyes flickering away like she’s trying to hold herself together.

I can’t look at her anymore.

I don’t wait to see if she leaves, because I’m already halfway to the bathroom. I shove the door closed with more force than necessary, locking it. And when I palm my engorged dick, I let out a pained groan.

I’m so close to the edge I don’t even turn on the shower. I just pull my cock out, and imagine her kneeling on the floor in front of me, staring up at me with those wide, beautiful eyes, before she closes her mouth over me.

“Fuck,” I grunt, moving my hand faster, imagining it’s her, remembering how she looked as she came on my fingers. How she felt, so perfectly tight.

I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. Not after I kicked her out of my bed. Not after I touched her like that.

But she’s all I can think about. Her mouth. Her skin. The way she looked at me like I mean something.

And when I come, it’s not soft or gentle. It’s a roar – loud, raw, and filled with everything I don’t want to admit.

Guilt. Shame. The fact that I want her so badly I used her memory even after I told her to leave.

I brace a hand against the cold tile, chest heaving.

Then I turn on the water. Let it scald. Try to scrub her off me. Out of me. Like that’s even possible.

And when I finally step out of the bathroom, towel around my waist, the bedroom is empty.

She’s gone.

seventeen