Page 128 of My Big, Fat, Fake Billionaire Wedding

“Harder,” she gasps. “I need more.”

I comply, driving into her with renewed force, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the small room. She wraps her legs around my buttocks, changing the angle, taking me impossibly deeper.

“Gideon, I’m close,” she warns, her movements becoming erratic.

“Look at me,” I demand, my own release building. “I want to see your eyes when you cum for me.”

Her gaze locks with mine, vulnerability and trust shining through the haze of pleasure. It’s the most honest moment we’ve shared, more intimate than any contract or conversation. As her body tightens around mine, waves of pleasure washing over her features, I feel something fundamental shift within me.

This isn’t just desire. This isn’t just release.

This is connection. Raw, unfiltered, terrifying connection.

I follow her over the edge, my climax tearing through me with unexpected force. For a moment, the world narrows to just this. Her body joined with mine, her eyes holding mine, nothing between us but truth.

After, I dispose of the condom and gather her against me on the narrow mattress. Her body fitsperfectly against mine, head tucked under my chin, legs tangled with my own. Neither of us speaks.

“Thank you,” she says finally, her voice soft in the dim studio light.

“For what?”

“For watching me paint. For seeing me.”

I tighten my arm around her. “Thank you for allowing it.”

She traces patterns on my chest, her touch leaving trails of heat on my skin. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, you know.”

“Which part?”

“Any of it. The sex. The sharing a bed. The... feelings.”

My heart stutters at the mention of feelings, but I force myself to remain calm. “Are there feelings, Ava?”

She’s quiet for so long I think she might not answer. “Would it matter if there were? Our arrangement has an expiration date.”

The reminder is like ice water on my heated skin. Six more weeks and our contract ends. She’ll take her settlement and open her gallery. I’ll retain control of my empire. We’ll go our separate ways, as planned.

The thought makes me physically ill.

“What if...” But I can’t finish.What if it didn’t have to end?

She lifts her head, eyes searching mine in the dim light. “What if?”

The businessman in me is screaming to retreat, to maintain the careful distance I’ve cultivated for years. But lying here, surrounded by her art, her scent, her warmth, I can’t imagine returning to a life without this. Without her.

I shake my head. “I’ve never felt asconnected to another person as I do right now, lying on this shitty mattress in your studio. And... that terrifies me.”

She presses her lips to my chest, right over my heart. “It terrifies me, too.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve built my defenses so carefully. Because I have plans. Because men like you don’t end up with women like me except in fairy tales.”

“Men like me?”

“Powerful. Wealthy. Perfect.”

I laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “I’m far from perfect, Ava. You know that better than most.”

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