Page 125 of A Forgotten Promise

I’m still in a haze, high on my release, when Corm tenses deep inside. He roars something, throwing his head back before he collapses on top of me.

I wrap my arms and legs around him, surprised I have any energy left to move. He lifts his head and kisses me.

“What kind of losers have you been with if you ever thought you couldn’t get wet without lube?”

I chuckle. “You really want to talk about my former lovers?”

“Fuck,” he grumbles. “Forget I said anything.”

I laugh, feeling lighter and happier than I have in months. “Running the risk your ego will suffocate me, that was the best orgasm of my life.”

He looks at me with a passion that spreads a warm feeling through me. I’m probably drunk on hormones, but his look feels like a commitment.

Definitely drunk on hormones.

“Can I have my hands back?”

He unclasps the cuffs, kissing my wrists with such reverence I want to slap him. Because really, this thing between us was so much safer when we hated each other.

“Are you sore?”

“A bit.”

He frowns. “Sorry.”

“I loved every minute of it.”

He raises his eyebrow. “You were quite whiny for a moment there.”

I poke his ribs. “Asshole.”

“As always.” He kisses me. “Let’s shower, and then I need to fuck you against that vanity there.”

He jumps up and scoops me up bridal-style.

I grin. “You’re insatiable.”

I stare at the ceiling, Corm’s soft breathing a rhythmic soundtrack to my sleeplessness.

We’re giving this thing between us a real try.

Several orgasms later, in the shower, against the mirror, and back in this bed, I think giving it a real try is fucking amazing.

But he didn’t mean sex only. His gaze on me when he fucked me had the intensity of a commitment.

Let’s face it, I’ve been in a committed relationship with my work only. I’m not against it, but it wasn’t on my radar. I had no time, and my hookups were there for the ride, mostly because they knew I didn’t have room for anything serious.

I was kind of hoping to be by myself for a bit. To truly find myself. Can I do that in Corm’s all-consuming presence?

Especially in my current desolate financial state. Someone has stolen my identity? Betting under my name? Was it Marie? Or maybe someone in her family?

I was grateful for yesterday’s diversion from the topic. It was not like I could do anything before we understand what happened, but now, staring at the ceiling, without Corm’s talented hands, tongue, and cock distracting me, anxiety slips in.

How am I even going to defend myself against it all? Owing people I don’t know? Turning my head, I look at the man beside me. His peaceful face gives me a bit of a confidence. At least I don’t have to face this alone.

But my money is truly, really gone. Even if Maria is convicted of embezzling, I’ll not be able to recover any of it.

Dad’s trust fund is my only option for financial independence. And then what?

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