"Exactly. I won't feel guilty about giving my wife physical pleasure. But my heart…" I trail off, unable to finish.
"Belongs to Meghan," Hannah completes softly. "I understand."
"Can you live with that? Taking what pleasure I can give without expecting more?" As I hear myself saying the words, I feel like a douche. I want to give her pleasure for her, but the conditions are brutal.
“I already know you won’t love me.”
Something inside me splits in two. “But you know I’ll protect you, right? I’ll be a husband in every way but that. It’s way less than you deserve, but it’s all I can give. Is it enough?”
“I’ve been surviving on less, but… You don’t have to do this to appease me. Not if it will cause you grief.”
“I want to do this because you deserve an attentive husband who takes care of your needs. It’s not a hardship, Hannah. You must know that.” I take her hand and set it on my dick, thick and hard with anticipation.
“After it is a hardship?—”
“Not if we keep it strictly physical.” I think of Flint’s challenge on that thinking. That somehow, fucking another woman isn’t a betrayal, only loving one is. But I push it away. I can’t let my messed up psyche get in the way of being here for Hannah.
"I can do that, as long as you don't push me away after. No more making me feel like I've done something wrong."
"Deal." I lean in closer, my lips brushing her ear. "Now, do you want me to show you how good I can make you feel?"
I'll make it up for all my shitty deeds to her this way. I’ll give her the physical satisfaction she deserves while keeping my emotional walls intact. It's the least I can do after everything she's sacrificed for and endured from me.
19
HANNAH
Igrip Ash’s shoulders as he lays me back in bed, wondering what I’ve just agreed to. Just sex. Nothing more. My body craves his touch, remembering the earth-shattering pleasure he gave me days ago. It’s the one so insistent that it overrides my mind telling me this is a recipe for heartache because my heart wants so much more. When he kisses me, when his hands explore my body, I want it to mean something. I want him to look at me the way Flint looks at Lucy, the way Blaise looks at his wife, Jenna.
Instead, I have to settle for moments stolen in the dark, pretending he desires me as much as I desire him. Pretending his heart doesn’t belong to someone else.
The rational part of my brain screams at me to protect myself. To maintain distance. To remember that every time he touches me, he'll be thinking of her. But I can't help myself. Maybe it's foolish, maybe it's masochistic, but I'd rather have pieces of him than nothing at all.
The moonlight streams through our bedroom window, casting shadows across his face, and the beauty of him takes mybreath away. My fingers itch to trace the sharp line of his jaw, to feel the stubble that's grown there since morning.
I shift closer to him, drawn by his warmth. The mattress dips under my movement and his blue eyes lock with mine. There's desire there, yes, but also guilt. Always guilt.
Pain flares deep in my soul knowing that I'll never measure up to Meghan. But I'm here, I'm real, and I'm offering him whatever piece of me he's willing to take.
His fingers trail down my neck as he unbuttons my nightgown. Each brush of skin against skin sends shivers through me. I want to reach for him, to pull him closer, but I remember his rules. No demands. Accept only what he gives.
The silk slides from my shoulders. Cool air kisses my exposed skin, my nipples peaking and growing sensitive. Ash's eyes darken as they roam over me, making me feel both cherished and raw.
He reaches for his tie, loosened but still around his neck from earlier. "Close your eyes," he commands softly.
The fabric is cool and smooth as he secures it around my head. In the darkness, every sensation intensifies, the whisper of sheets as he moves, his steady breathing, the heat radiating from his body. I can’t deny that it’s thrilling, but I wonder if this is part of what will help him keep his emotional distance, make this encounter like the nameless ladies he’s had before.
For a moment, I want to push him away. Maybe I won’t be Meghan, but surely, I’m more than the women who meant nothing.
But then his lips find my neck just below my ear. They trail softly along my neck, sending shivers through my body.
“I love how you respond when I touch you, Hannah.”
His words push away the moment of hesitation. He’s acknowledged me. By name, even. Somewhere deep inside, Isuspect this is a pathetic excuse, but I don’t care. I give in, give myself fully to him.
His lips lift, and I don’t feel anything for a moment. I bite my lip to hold back a whimper, the anticipation of what’s coming creating a buzzing sensation under my skin. I can’t see him, don’t know what he’s doing.
Then I feel his warm, wet tongue lave over my nipple. Next, cool air blows over it.
