And she wanted me. Nothing was clearer than that.
After I took her again in the bridal boutique, I managed to drive us back home. But my thoughts stayed locked on one thing—how I was going to get back inside her.
We barely made it into the house before I had her pressed against the wall.
Then we came in here. It was the closest bedroom. Mine is on the other side of the house—too far to satisfy what I wanted.
Still, I would’ve preferred her in my bed. Tangled in my sheets. Not in hers.
The fact that I’m even thinking she should always be in my bed is a problem.
I lost control today. Big time.
Now look at me, wide awake before sunrise, smoking in the dark.
Everything I did today was … unbecoming of me.
Salvatore told me to indulge a little, but I did it a lot.
And damn, it felt fucking good.
Finally, I took care of that thousand-year-old itch. I indulged on the girl who was always off-limits to me.
But now I’m faced with the reality of what we’re supposed to be—a business contract.
Not real, yet we are.
This is a problem I was never supposed to have.
Everyone knows me for control, for the lengths I go to maintain it. So this… this state of mindless need…
It doesn’t sit well with me.
I wasn’t supposed to sleep with my wife on our wedding night and enjoy it.
Fuck, I more than enjoyed it.
I craved it.
I cravedher.
I wasn’t supposed to end up here, in her bedroom, watching her sleep, waiting for her to wake so I can have her all over again.
I enjoyed the release of taking her, but now the question of what comes next sits in my chest like a boulder, dragging me under.
What the hell am I going to do now that I’ve crossed that line?
I can’t pretend this didn’t happen. That it was just part of the arrangement.
The meaningless sex I thought we’d have would’ve been easier.
Safer.
But there was nothing meaningless about tonight.
I know that and I know myself.
Even if I could go back, she’d never forgive me.