Page 57 of The Billionaire's Timed Wife

Being beside her tests every ounce of my self-control.

I’m not a boy. I’ve been with women since I was very young, and I thought I knew everything there was to know about sex, but from the first time I touched Adeela, it was as if an entirely new world opened up before me. The desire she stirs in me isn’t just about needing her body; it’s about knowing her, learning her most secret cravings.

I want to understand the difference between her moans when I’m inside her, to hear her whisper for me to go slower, faster, begging for release.

But I also know she’s inexperienced, raised to stay pure until marriage. So even though the temptation to push her limits is nearly unbearable, I won’t cross the line. I refuse to hurt her by betraying the values she holds dear.

“You’ve been with beautiful women before,” she says, a little awkwardly.

Before I can answer, Jazmina walks over with a bright smile. “You two look like a couple straight out of a movie.”

Adeela, who had been tense, relaxes instantly with my sister’s arrival.

“I thought your name was long, brother, but even if I tried my hardest, I’d never remember the full name of tonight’s birthday prince. I’m sticking with the first and the last—Vicenzzo Lucchese.”

I laugh, amused at her exaggeration because in truth, Vicenzzo only has one more name than I do.

“Why have you never brought me to a party like this before?” she pouts.

“Because you were underage.”

“Only that? Or were you just trying to keep me away from your flings?”

My body stiffens, partly because of her inappropriate comment, but also because she’s closer to the truth than sheknows. The day they arrived in Paris, I was still trying to get rid of Ingrid.

Jazmina goes pale and looks immediately regretful. “Adeela, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s fine,” Adeela says calmly, trying to sound unaffected, though I know she’s not. “It’s no secret your brother wasn’t exactly living like a monk before we got engaged. Excuse me, I need the restroom.”

“I’ll go with you,” my sister offers quickly, hurrying after her friend.

“Trouble in paradise?” Rodrick[32] asks, stepping up beside me.

When I arrived, I introduced Adeela and Jazmina to everyone, since the only one who’d met my sister in person was Abdar.

As much as I love these men, I don’t like my sister being too close to them. And that’s exactly why I’m uneasy about what I need to ask this particular friend.

“My past debauchery coming back to haunt me,” I mutter.

When Adeela agreed to marry me, I made a video call to all of them to announce the engagement. I spent ten minutes listening to their jokes because among us, only Abdar and Vicenzzo were expected to marry soon, both for political reasons tied to their countries.

Rodrick grins and raises his glass of whiskey, probably from his own distillery in Scotland. “One thing’s certain: any woman who marries one of us has to learn to live with our past. Or at least pretend it doesn’t exist.”

“There’s no need for her to ‘live with it.’ I’ll never allow anything I did before meeting her to interfere with our relationship. What matters is what comes next.”

“You can’t erase the past.”

“I can control it,” I say flatly.

“If you say so...Then you won’t mind your German ex walking over here right now like a woman on a mission.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Remember what I said about living with the past?” he groans. “Your fiancée’s walking this way too. Guess it’s time to test that theory.”

“Hello, Prince.”

Even before turning around, I know that thick, slightly slurred voice, courtesy of too much alcohol, belongs to the German model.