Page 85 of Bargaining

He slipped another finger inside me and rubbed my clit just the way I liked. My head fell back, and my fingers gripped the tub painfully.If I let him close, he’ll hurt me again. I can’t fall like this.

“Please.” My breath escaped me in sharp snatches.

He chuckled darkly. “So needy, Mrs. Ackroyd.” Smoothing my wet hair back from my face, he whispered low in my ear. “I won’t make you wait. You’re so fucking beautiful when you come. I want to see you let go with me, Charlotte. Please. That’s all I want. I’m the one who needs to beg.”

He rubbed my clit relentlessly while pumping his fingers in and out of me. My hips writhed at his mercy, sloshing water over the sides of the tub. Pleasure sparked at the base of my spine, and a cry left my lips. I came hard, my pussy clenching around his fingers buried deep. He bit his lip and groaned. Maybe it was weakness that had made me break the contract, maybe it was forgiveness. Hard to tell the difference anymore.

He kissed the tip of my nose, stood, and grabbed a towel from the rail. We were due to fly home in two days. The water held me as I caught my breath, but my stomach dropped. How had the timegone so quickly? What would it be like when we got home? Back to normal? How could it go back to normal after all of this?

Cole held the towel out and beckoned for me to stand. I got out of the bath, and he wrapped the towel around me, drying me tenderly. I couldn’t put it off any longer. There were still a few places I hadn’t been.

“I need to see the Sistine Chapel. Then on our last day, I want to go to the Trevi Fountain together. We’ll throw a coin in, and that means we’ll come back again.”

He wrapped a towel turban around my head. His eyes clung to mine. “You think we’ll come back again? Together?”

My heart took a leap. “I hope so.”

He took my hand, and despite every reason not to, I let him lead me to the bedroom.

Chapter 38

Charlotte

We entered the Sistine Chapel with a throng of tourists through the labyrinthine Vatican Museums. I took a breath as I stepped over the threshold into the cool air of the sacred space. Vibrant frescoes covered every inch. A faint odor hung in the air—something musty like the most treasured books in Dad’s library.

A backpack brushed against my shoulder, and a tall woman elbowed me as she shuffled past. I tried to edge forward, but I could barely move against the crowd. Everyone stood staring up at the famous ceiling, transfixed. I craned my head to look. I’d seen this place in textbooks, and built it up as something in my head, and now, here I stood.

Someone pushed past me again, and Cole gave them a fearsome look. “Watch where you’re going.”

I touched his arm. “It’s fine. It’s busy.”

A guard’s voice sliced through the chaos. “Shh. Quiet, please.”

Cole threw a disdainful look at the entrance. “The guard’s the one making all the noise.”

I turned as best I could, scanning the intricate biblical scenes. Hard to see anything above the sea of heads.

A body pressed against me, forcing me to step closer to Cole. I whispered in his ear, “Michelangelo painted all of this alone. He couldn’t find an assistant he was satisfied with so he did it all by himself. If you want to get a job done, do it yourself, right?”

He raised an amused eyebrow. “I’ve never found the sixteenth century more relatable.”

Another elbow landed in my back, and I was moving forward even though I didn’t want to. I reached for Cole’s hand, but he slipped out of sight. He found me again a moment later. Too busy. Too many people.

“We should go,” I said. “Maybe come back later.”

Cole peered down at me. “Are you OK? You don’t look happy.”

This wasn’t how I wanted it to be. I shouldn’t have come. It was better in my imagination. “I don’t like how crowded it is.”

The guard’s annoying voice sliced the air again. “Shh. Quiet, please. Stop talking.”

“This is ridiculous.” Cole wrinkled his nose. He took me by the shoulders. “Wait here.”

“Where are you . . . ?”

He was gone before I could finish, cutting his way through the horde of tourists back the way we’d come. I craned my neck to the ceiling again, only to get shuffled forward. Never mind. Sometimes things just didn’t live up to your expectations. Maybe I’d known it never could. That’s why I hadn’t come here on the first day. Cole returned. He cupped my face and stroked my cheeks with his thumbs.

“It’s OK. It’s going to be better in a minute,” he said.