The sound is enough to push him over the edge. His hips stutter a few times before he settles deep, body tensing as his cock pulses, spilling into me. When his grip relaxes enough on my wrists for me to slip them out, I run my hands through his hair, over his shoulders, and down his back, his skin slick with sweat. I want to touch every inch of him, want to burn it all into my memory so I never forget a single thing about this moment.
My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, and when hepresses his palm over my racing heart, I want to tell him everything that lives inside it.
“Too much?” he asks, a breathless whisper against my skin.
My throat is tight. I’m being choked by a rush of emotion, all the ones I’m not allowed to feel. “Just enough,” I answer.
He kisses me again before rolling to the side and climbing out of bed, heading for the bathroom. I press my hand to my chest where his just was, trying to convince my heart to slow—and to push him back out of it.
Thomas steps back into the room with a damp washcloth in his hand and sits on the edge of the bed. He then presses my knees apart and runs the warm cloth gently over my inner thighs. It’s so considerate and sohimthat I could cry.
“I’m not done with you, by the way,” he murmurs after he’s finished. “I’m just giving you a chance to recover before we go again.”
I spare a glance at the clock, relaxing when I see it’s still a half hour until midnight. We have time.We have time.
“So nice of you,” I call to his back as he returns the washcloth to the bathroom, and I admire his ass in the process. “But it’s not going to take me long.”
His chuckle precedes him back into the bedroom, and it wraps around me just before he does. I don’t resist when he hauls me against him, my thigh hooked over his hips, my head resting on his chest. It’s too intimate, and it almost cracks me right open.
“You know,” he muses. “Now that we’ve officially consummated the marriage, we can’t get an annulment.”
I snicker and bury my face in his shoulder. “You do know that’s not how it works, right?”
“Hush,” he says warmly. “Let me pretend I get to keep you.”
I’m smiling before I can stop it, and the words I shouldn’tconfess come with it. “I’m already yours, Thomas. No need to pretend.”
My face immediately goes hot, mortification creeping up my neck. Worst of all, I can’t think of a joke to follow it up with, something to make him think I’m just teasing. Instead, I dip my head so he can’t see my expression and press a kiss to the space where his shoulder meets his neck, praying he won’t take me seriously. That he’ll brush it off and remember what this is—a one-time thing.
Blessedly, his chest vibrates underneath me as he laughs softly. “That’s right. Even got the papers to prove it.”
I nearly slump in relief, pressing another kiss to his neck in silent thanks. “Mm-hmm. That’s right.”
We lapse into an easy silence after that, his fingers drifting up and down my spine. My anxiety slips away bit by bit with each stroke. I don’t realize I’ve been nearly lulled to sleep until his phone starts incessantly buzzing on the floor, still tucked into the pocket of his pants.
“Don’t answer that,” I mumble against his shoulder, but he’s already rolling away.
Without him pressed against me, the cold reminder sets in that I’ve let myself get too attached. I’ve already discovered that this night won’t do what I wanted it to, because there’s no such thing as getting Thomas out of my system. My feelings haven’t suddenly disappeared or become easier to manage. If anything, I’ve sunk deeper. I’m starting to drown.
I need to lock down my heart now or else I’ll never get it back. If I don’t, and if he breaks it…I know it will be the end of me. I can’t risk disappearing into another man. I can’t risk him turning out to be like Étienne.
He groans when he sees the name on the screen, then tosses me an apologetic look. “It’s Maeve. I really should get this.”
I want to tell him to ignore it, thatweneed to talk, but what good would talking do? We already have an agreement. We both just need to follow it and maybe—God,maybe—everything will turn out okay.
I motion for him to answer.
He winks before sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me, taking the call in hushed tones. My eyes drift closed, and I’m vaguely listening, but it’s his loud “Are you serious?” a few seconds later that has me paying attention.
Thomas mumbles a few more things before he hangs up. Still, a handful of beats pass before he turns to me again.
“What is it?” I dare to ask, but I already know our night together is over before he answers.
I already know that we’re over.
“It’s Lorenzo,” he says in disbelief. “He’s ready to meet.”
Chapter 29
