Page 68 of While You Sleep

He growled against my skin as his mouth moved over my throat, sucking hard before kissing the tender skin there. “Then put me inside you, pet.”

He let my legs free and I shifted, putting my feet under me and I reached back, taking his cock in my hand and pressing the head to my opening. I sat down, taking him inside me, and he groaned. I started moving instantly, riding him hard and fast, reaching for it, desperate to come again, to feel Cillian come inside me.

“Fuck,” he grated against my ear. “My wife loves being stuffed full of her husband’s cock.”

“Yes,” I sobbed as he grabbed my hips and took over the pace, but it was too slow, too intense. With his arms now locking me against him, I couldn’t move like I wanted to. He had me pinned, totally in his control, the way he liked it—the way he knew I loved it.

He held me still, then thrust up into me over and over. “Pussy’s dripping all over me, pet. Such a hungry little cunt. You ever let another man see what’s mine again, I’ll fucking kill them, understand?”

I sobbed, so close to coming a third time.

“Answer me, Sophia,” he growled.

“Y-yes.”

He moved suddenly, pulling out and shoving me to my back. He pushed my legs wide and filled me again, making me cry out. He ground into me, staying deep, making my head spin. He stared down at me, eyes glittering in the dark, compelling me to look into them, holding me captive.

“Play with your clit,” he said, hushed, urgent.

I reached down between us and rubbed. He watched, his gaze searing into me as he increased the pace of his thrusts, faster, deeper, harder.

“Beautiful,” he said.

My orgasm hit me like a rolling wave, flowing over me, through me. I arched against him, calling his name. He grabbed my jaw and made me look at him, and I watched as his face contorted with pleasure. His deep groan and the heavy pulse of his cock setting off aftershocks through me.

He pressed his forehead to mine, our panted breaths mingling. “So fucking perfect,” he said huskily.

I clung to him, looking into his beautiful face, into eyes that could be as cold as ice but burned hot for me, and the realization struck me. I wasn’t falling for him—no, I’d already fallen in love with Cillian O’Rourke. Completely.

He kissed me, soft, tender, still inside me, the way he liked. He always stayed inside me as long as he could. The emotions inside me yawned wider, so wide I couldn’t contain them any longer.

“I love you,” I whispered into the darkness, so quiet, my voice so small. I should keep it to myself, but I said it anyway.

His expression didn’t change, but every muscle in his body tightened above me. His jaw twitched, but he didn’t say anything. Humiliation burned my face, but I knew this would happen, didn’t I? I knew this man wasn’t capable of loving me back.

“Pet,” he said roughly. “I—”

“You don’t need to say anything.” I glanced at the clock. 11:48.

He studied me for long seconds, the muscle in his jaw working. “I’ll protect you, look after you, give you everything you need. But love…it’s not something I’m capable of, Sophia. I don’t know if I ever was,” he said roughly.

“You don’t have to explain.” This made it easier, didn’t it? Whatever happened tonight when I left this room, this house, and walked to my father’s car would be easier because Cillian didn’t love me back. He could never love me back. My heart didn’t agree, but that was why I said it. That was why I’d thrown myself on the sword, because the truth hurts and it was what I needed to hear. If he loved me, if he said the words and I had to leave tonight, it would hurt so much more.

Sure. The dagger currently buried in your chest barely hurts at all, right?

I shut down the voice in my head. I needed to remember the truth of my situation. I was a pawn. This marriage was a business deal. None of this was real, and it never had been. Yes, he cared for me in whatever way Cillian was capable of, but this wasn’t love, it wasn’t some fucked-up fairy tale. I wasn’t his sleeping beauty and he sure as hell wasn’t my prince.

His rough-skinned fingers drifted across my brow, down the side of my face, then gently over my lips. “But knowing you love me, pet, it pleases me more than I know how to adequately express.”

I flinched when he called me that name. It didn’t feel nice, not anymore. It made me feel like a thing, his thing. Pain sliced through me, and my throat ached from fighting back my sob. “Can you let me up, please? I need to pee.”

He blinked down at me, but then moved, rolling to the side. I scrambled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. It was hard, but I didn’t let my emotions take over, I couldn’t. I had to go back out there.

I cleaned up, walked back out, and got into bed. Cillian dragged me closer like he always did, so I was pressed against him, and kissed my jaw.

“Night, pet.”

“Night,” I whispered.

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