They didn't speak much as they left the bar. The city lights blurred past the car windows while his hand rested possessively on her thigh, his thumb brushing circles on her skin that made her pulse race all over again.
By the time they reached the hotel, the air between them was electric — thick with anticipation and the wicked thrill of doing something they both knew they shouldn't. He checked them in under a false name, the corners of his mouth twitching in a dark smile when her fingers slid up his back as they stood at the reception desk.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, he was on her. His mouth crashed onto hers, devouring every protest and every moan until they were breathless, hands tearing at clothes with frantic impatience. Her heels clattered to the floor as he walked her backward toward the bed, his lips never leaving her neck, her jaw, the swell of her chest.
When her back hit the mattress, she let out a soft gasp — half-laugh, half-moan — as he yanked her dress up around her hips. She was already wet for him, the proof of what he'd done to her at the bar still clinging to her thighs.
"Look at you," he rasped, his eyes dark as he crawled over her, fingers curling into her hair to tilt her head back. "Spread out for me. Needy little thing."
She answered with a whimper when he tugged her panties aside, teasing her folds with the tip of his finger. She bucked her hips, trying to pull him deeper, but he only chuckled — low and dangerous — and caught her wrists, pinning them above her head.
"Be patient," he murmured against her throat. "Or I'll make you beg for every inch."
She cursed at him — halfhearted, breathless — but the plea was already in her eyes. He kissed her then, slower this time, tasting her lips while his free hand slid lower, tracing lazy circles until she was panting beneath him, her thighs trembling around his hips.
When he finally pushed inside her, it was with a sharp thrust that made her cry out, her back arching beautifully off the bed. He swallowed every sound with his mouth, grinding into her until she was gasping his name like a prayer.
The room filled with the sounds of their bodies colliding — wet, desperate, forbidden. She wrapped her legs around his waist, nails scoring red lines down his back as he drove them both higher.
He pulled back just enough to watch her face — flushed, eyes glazed with lust — and the sight pushed him closer to the edge. He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath ragged.
"Tell me you're mine," he demanded, each word punctuated by a hard thrust that made the headboard slam into the wall. "Say it."
"I'm yours," she gasped, voice trembling, her body tightening around him. "Only yours."
He kissed her then, deep and filthy, as they fell over the edge together — a rush of pleasure that blurred the lines between what they were and what they could never be.
When the last shudder passed through them, he didn't pull away. He stayed inside her, their bodies slick with sweat, his hand stroking her hair as she caught her breath beneath him.
The guilt would come later. For now, all that mattered was the heat of her skin, the beat of her heart, and the dangerous, undeniable truth that no vow could ever erase what they did together in the dark.
******
Julian walked through the front door, the morning sunlight casting an unflattering glare on his tired face. He looked like he hadn't slept much, his eyes bloodshot and his jawline stubbled.
Lily stood in the living room, her arms crossed and a mixture of anger and hurt etched on her face. "Where were you last night?" she demanded, her voice tight with emotion.
Julian's expression was neutral, but his eyes betrayed a hint of guilt. "I needed some space," he said, his voice rough from lack of sleep.
Lily's eyes narrowed. "Space? From me? From our marriage?"
The tension between them was palpable, and it seemed like one wrong move could spark a huge argument.
He blunted out; " I think it's time we end these contract marriage. "
Lily's eyes widened in shock, her face pale. "End the contract marriage?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Julian's expression was resolute, his jaw set. "Yes. I think it's time we both acknowledge that this arrangement isn't working for either of us."
Lily's eyes filled with tears, and she turned away, trying to compose herself. "Is this because of what happened last night?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Julian's gaze was steady, but his voice was laced with a hint of guilt. "This has nothing to do with last night. It's about us, and what's best for both of us. We've been pretending that this is something it's not for too long."
The air was thick with unspoken emotions, and it seemed like the fate of their marriage hung precariously in the balance.