Page 31 of A Man of Prestige

He kisses me again, and I taste myself on his tongue. Something about that feels wrong and yet so right. We kiss for long minutes as he slides in and out of me at a pace that’s almost too slow. He’s taking his time, letting me feel each inch of him, over and over.

“Aiden,” I moan, wanting more.

His eyes open, and he gazes down at me. “We have all night. And I’m going to make use of each and every second of it.”

Words fail me. My mind goes blank. Every movement feels better than it ever did. The touch of his skin is hotter than I remember. The sounds of his grunts are harsher. The smell of his cologne is more intense.

Everything seems to be amplified as I gaze into his eyes. I see a life we could have lived. What would it be like? I close my eyes, and just for a single moment, I let myself imagine what our lives might have resembled. It’s too painful, too overwhelming.

“What’s wrong, star?” he coos in my ear.

I shake my head, but it’s too late. A tear trickles down the side of my face.

His movements become painfully slow until he stops altogether, still buried deep inside me.

“Ella,” he says, his voice laced with concern.

I force myself to open my eyes.

“What is it?”

I shake my head.

He brings his hands up to cup my face as he places light kisses on my forehead. “Talk to me, star.”

I swallow. “Make me forget, first. Just for a minute, please,” I beg.

He doesn’t know what I’m really asking and that breaks my heart, but he nods and begins to move again as we watch each other. Our breaths become faster as our bodies thrust harder. He knows what I need, and he wastes no time in reaching between us to play with clit, until I’m panting and crying out his name. He follows me a moment later.

After one final thrust, he stills inside me and searches my eyes again. “It’s time,” he whispers.

I know what he means, but I don’t want it to be time. Because what that really means is my time is up. He’ll never forgive me. I’ll never forgive me.

I nod as he pulls out of me and rolls us, so we are lying side by side. I take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry that I yelled that night,” he starts. “I was frustrated.”

“Why don’t you want kids?” I ask, afraid to hear the painful truth. Our relationship had been so intense and happened so fast, we hadn’t had the normal conversations of couples that spend months or even years getting to know each other. We were focused on the here and now. That night was the first time we had ever discussed children.

“My mother,” he replies quietly. “You can’t guarantee that you’ll be there for them. You can be there one second and gone the next. I can’t do that to a child.”

His words are profound. I always knew his mother had died of cancer, but he never talked much about it. I knew that it must be a painful memory, but to have impacted him like this is hard to hear.

“I should have talked about it sooner. We were just…” He trails off.

I reach over and squeeze his hand. “We moved too fast. It’s not your fault. Our relationship was like a nuclear bomb going off. It burned huge, bright, and intense but then ‘poof’ it was gone.”

“It was never gone for me,” he replies, his jaw clenching.

I look away from him. About this, I can’t lie. “It was never gone for me either,” I admit out loud for the first time.

“Then, why, Ella? Why did you just leave without a word?”

I sit up and pull my knees to my chest as I look over at him. “There’s something you don’t know.”

He sits up and looks at me. “What?”

“I…” I pause, my throat constricting with fear. I don’t know if I can say the words to him. I look over and there is so much worry on his face. I knew this day would happen. I just am not ready for it. “I was pregnant,” I finally force the words out of my mouth.

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