Page 84 of Unwillingly Yours

She whimpered and gasped, and I felt my control finally slipping. My stomach clenched, beads of sweat breaking out on my forehead at the pain of holding myself back.

“You belong to me,” I gasped, my strokes becoming uneven. “Look at me!”

Elia’s eyes found mine and I picked up the pace, our bodies slapping together in rhythm. Sweat rolled down my back, and I was forced to let go of her wrists to get better leverage on the bed. Her hands reached out and ran along the broad expanse of my back. Her head dipped forward, and her lips closed around the sensitive spot of my collarbone.

A single tiny bite, and I lost all measure of control. Her name poured from my lips as I poured into her.

Slowly, I started to feel my body come back to me, my legs shaking from the force of my own orgasm.

Let’s fly away together, Aleks. Just you and me.

Why? Why did that memory have to surface now? I wasn’t going down that fucking path with Elia splayed out before me, her body heaving from what we just did.

Looking back at the bed, I found Elia looking at me. Finally, she slowly rolled over and got up.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

I watched her sashay into the bathroom, letting out a slow breath. Everything was so fucked up that I didn’t know what to say to her now or where our marriage was going.

So many things still needed to be discussed between us.

So many questions still remained unanswered.

Chapter Forty

Elia

I looked at myself in the mirror, taking in the flush on my face. My entire body was sated, and I felt like I could barely function. The need to sleep was overwhelming.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

He had asked me to admit that he owned me, that I was his, yet there were still so many unanswered questions between us that it was tearing me apart.

Did I really care? I shouldn’t.

And yet…

Warmth flared through me at the thought of what we had just done, wanting desperately to feel it again. Maybe that was the best part of us, what we did in the bedroom. So many marriages were built on less.

But a true marriage shouldn’t be built on only that. But this was never a true marriage.

With a sigh, I washed my face and walked back into the bedroom, finding Aleksey sitting on the bed. He looked up as I entered and my cheeks flushed, realizing I had no clothing on. Aleksey’s eyes roamed down my body, and I felt every searing look on my skin, wanting his hands to be there instead.

“Elia,” he said, his voice low and sensual.

I walked toward him deliberately, my heart hammering in my chest. Already my stomach was tightening with need, my breasts heavy and tight for his touch.

“What are you doing to me?” he said softly as I stood between his bare legs, noting that his cock was starting to stir where it had been flaccid against his leg a moment before.

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I forced him back on the comforter. “I want more, Aleksey.”

His eyes widened, but he allowed me to climb on him, positioning myself over his cock. “I love you like this,” he said softly, his hands coming up to cup my aching breasts.

Love. That word seemed foreign coming out of his mouth with everything going on. Did I love Aleksey? Maybe at one point I might have considered it. Maybe during one of our countless bouts, I might have even uttered it. I wasn’t sure anymore. Everything I had felt before my trip to my father could have fooled me into thinking that it was love.

But now? Now I wasn’t sure.

When his thumbs brushed over my hardened peaks, I gasped, my body starting to shake with the need to have him inside me. His cock had come back to life, and it pressed—hot and insistent—against my ass.

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