22. Their Love is Forever
CHAPTER 22
THEIR LOVE IS FOREVER
Archer
She kisses me back, and I feel my resolve fade away. I am incapable of saying no to her. Even after I repeatedly told myself I wouldn’t take her virginity, I went and took her simply because she asked me to.
Now she wants more of me. But what she needs, I can’t give. “If I promise to take you to your father this weekend, would you desist on your crazy plan to take the train into the city?” I ask on her lips.
Her eyes go big in surprise. As if she can’t fathom her husband being a reasonable man. Despite how she feels and our contract, she’s not my prisoner. True, I have zero intention of ever letting her go, but I think I can give her this much—a couple of hours with her father.
“That’s all I’m asking.” She beams at me.
“I like it when you smile.” I kiss her lips again, wishing I could take her back upstairs and remind her she’s mine.
Only mine.
But it’s better if I never touch her again. In the end, when my revenge against her father is done, I want her to know that she wasn’t a pawn. That I brought her here to protect her. Sure, the auction was my design. But I only agreed to marry her to protect her from her father’s greed. This all-consuming chemistry between us took me by surprise. I never meant to hurt her. It’s why I refuse to let my desire for her win. Because I know I won’t survive her hate.
“So.” She peers at me with so much fear in her eyes. “Do all your ex-girlfriends get to kiss you whenever they want?”
“Of course not.” I cradle her neck. “Edith got overly excited. And I hadn’t told her about you. I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear before.” I let myself have one more taste of her lips. “Even if our marriage isn’t real, I expect you to never look at another man again or even think about one. I promise to do the same. Do you understand?” I lean to whisper in her ear. “That pretty cunt of yours is only for me. Your mouth.” I slide the pad of my thumb over it. “Only mine.”
“But you won’t even?—”
“I told you. It’s better if you keep your distance.” One of these days, I will figure out how to keep my hands off her.
Marrying her was an unavoidable mistake. But falling for her would be a tragedy. Because there is no version of us where we can end up living happily-ever-after like in some fairy tale. Not after I destroy her father.
“Don’t kiss her again.” She grips the lapels of my suit jacket. “It hurts.”
“I won’t.” I press my lips to her one last time. “I promise.”
“Okay.” She shakes her head, then makes to leave.
“Wait.” I take her hand and make her look at me. “Edith is joining us for dinner.”
“Are you serious right now?” She scowls at me.
“If you talk to her, get to know her a little bit, you’ll see you have nothing to worry about. And you’ll see there’s no reason for you to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Okay. Then join us in the study for a drink.” I kiss the inside of her wrist.
The angry scratches are healing, which means she’s left them alone in the past few days. I’m still trying to figure out what triggered that reaction. Was it Hunter? Or her worry for the Senator? I hate that she cares for that murderer as much as she does. He doesn’t deserve a single minute of her distress.
“Fine.” She shrugs. “It’s not like I have a full schedule the rest of the night.”
“Good.” I offer her my arm, and she takes it.
In the study, Edith stands facing the fire, nursing her gin and tonic. Placing my hand on Paloma’s lower back, I usher her to the sofa. When Edith joins us, taking a seat across from us, I do a proper introduction.
“Edith, I’d like you to meet my wife, Paloma Davis.” Wife? That word is getting easier and easier to say. “Paloma, this is an old colleague of mine. She works in the city. And she just agreed to run point on a deal for me.” I gesture for both of them to sit, then stride to the bar cart to make two drinks.
“He’s so modest.” Edith sets her glass on the coffee table. “He just dropped a multi-million-dollar deal on my lap. My boss is going to be so happy.” She runs a hand through her hair with excitement, letting it fall on her cheek.
I can see why Paloma would be jealous. Edith is beautiful. And in all honesty, a few months back, we probably would’ve celebrated our new deal with a round of sex. She and I never quite dated. One time after we closed a deal on a hotel in the city, we fell into bed and that sort of became a habit. Business, then sex was our thing. I wouldn’t even say she falls under the category of ex-girlfriend. Edith belongs to a time before I knew Paloma, before I had a taste of ecstasy.
When she kissed me earlier, I felt nothing. Paloma has ruined me forever. The fire that burns inside me when I touch her is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Her body calls to me in a way that I can’t resist. She bewitched me from the first moment I saw her.
“So, Paloma.” Edith looks at her with curiosity. “What do you do?”
“Oh.” Paloma looks at me for a beat. “I’m a ballet dancer.”
“Wow.” Edith sits up. “That’s amazing. I mean I think I’ve been to a real ballet once or twice in my life. But I think it’s great. Did you always want to be a dancer? Or, I don’t even know how that works. How does one even get started with something like that?”
“Yes.” She nods, shyly. “My mom was a dancer. I took my first lesson when I was four, I believe.” She glances down and rubs the inside of her wrist. “Dad was excited when he realized I’d gotten Mom’s ballet gene.”
It’s my fault Paloma feels intimidated by Edith. I should’ve been honest with Edith and told her about Paloma the minute she walked into my office.
“Paloma’s ballet company presented Swan Lake last month.” I offer Paloma the drink and sit next to her.
“Swan Lake? What is that one about?” Edith asks. “I only know the Nutcracker. That’s the one with the rats, right?” She laughs, pointing at me.
“Swan Lake is my favorite.” Paloma’s tone is quiet and subdued.
I find myself drawn to her the way I was back at the hotel bar. There’s something so alluring about her when she talks about her world, the one I took her away from.
“I was Swan Queen this year.” Her eyes shine with pride.
“Is that the main role?” Edith sits back to study Paloma the way I’ve seen her do in my boardroom.
She’s curious about the woman who made me do something I swore I would never do. Getting married, falling for someone, was never part of the plan for me.
“I’m sorry to be so nosy. I’m intrigued.” She sips from her glass.
“That’s okay.” Paloma bites her lip then meets her gaze. “The Swan Queen plays the role of Odette and Odíle. The white swan and the black swan. The white swan, Odette, is cursed. The black swan, Odíle, is controlled by her father, the evil sorcerer. He makes her do a terrible thing.” She taps her wrist. “The white swan is forced to spend her days as a swan, and her nights as a woman.” Her eyes sparkle with gold specs as she looks at me. “One of those nights, she meets her prince, and they fall in love.”
The fireplace crackles and fills the room with shadows. And I’m reminded of the night we met, how like Odíle, Paloma was the enchanting seductress. I sip from my drink, then add, “The only way to break the curse is for the prince to fall in love with Odette and marry her. But he must be faithful as well.”
“That’s right.” Paloma smiles as her gaze falls to my lips.
“That’s sweet.” Edith glances between Paloma and me. “It’s like a fairy tale. Like Beauty and the Beast, where she has to fall in love with him to break the curse.”
“Um, not really.” Paloma smiles at the firelight for a breath before she shifts her attention back to Edith. “They both die at the end.”
“It’s a tragedy,” I say.
“That’s awful.” Edith places a hand on her chest. “How is that romance?”
“I think it’s a beautiful love story. Their love is forever. Ephemeral, but also, everlasting because of their sacrifice.” The desire in my little dove’s eyes takes me by surprise. She sucks in her lower lip and her hand slides up my thigh. “She dies for her prince. It’s the only way to set her spirit free.”
I’m enthralled by her passion for something so tragic. “When she jumps in the lake as a human and dies, the evil sorcerer can’t control her anymore.” My mind is flooded with images of Paloma’s incredible pas de deux in the final scene, right before Odette dies, and her prince follows suit.
I feel like an asshole for taking her away from the one thing she loves the most just to bring her here. For days, I waited for her to ask me to take her back to at least finish the winter season. But she never asked. And I was too consumed with desire and fear of losing her to offer.
I squeeze her fingers on my lap, fighting every fiber in my body not to pull her toward me and fuck her the way I did last night. My whole body craves her in ways I didn’t think were possible.
Edith clears her throat. “Archer, when is Freya getting in? I’d like to see her before I go on my trip.”
My gaze is locked onto Paloma’s. And it takes me a whole minute to come up with an answer to Edith’s simple question. I turn to look at her. “Next weekend. Fisher is with her.”
“Why did I think she’d be here tonight?” she asks.
“Because that was the original plan.” I let out a breath, willing my heartbeat to return to a normal pace. “It’s taking them longer than we thought to get her here.”
“Well, I’m sure her students are very unhappy about her leaving for a while.” Edith studies Paloma’s features, reading her immediately. “You haven’t met her?”
“Who’s Freya?” She asks me with a look on her face that says—fish out of water.
“My mother.” I furrow my brows.
This was not how I wanted to tell her. Mom was supposed to be here by now. I had plans to introduce them over a civilized dinner that would help them get to know each other. Who knows, maybe one day they could become friends.
“Is she a teacher?” she asks tentatively.
The pain in her eyes cuts me. “She’s a ballet instructor.”
“She teaches little kids. It’s adorable.” Edith smiles. “She puts on the best Nutcracker every year. I always try to make it to London to catch the show.”
“Your mother is a ballet dancer.” Paloma surveys my face as if seeing me for the first time. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Oh.” Edith shifts her weight in her seat. “You two need drinks. Let me get the next round.” She hops to her feet and strides to the bar cart.
“It didn’t come up, I guess. With the wedding and all.” I cup her cheek. “I would’ve told you. It’s not a big secret.”
That part of my life isn’t a secret. So why did I leave it out? Maybe it’s easier when she sees me as the monster who wouldn’t save her father, the one who stood by while men bid on her virginity, the one who keeps her locked away in his tower. Is it possible to ever be anything else to her?
Mary Jane announces she’s ready for us in the dining room and effectively saves me from having to answer more of Paloma’s question. I escort Paloma to the next room while Edith makes herself another drink, and Mary Jane returns to the kitchen.
In the dining room, Paloma takes her seat to my right. Her cheeks flush as I push the chair in for her. And I just can’t help myself.
“You still haven’t been punished for your little stunt earlier forcing my hand into agreeing to let you see your father,” I whisper in her ear. “Be a good little dove and surrender your panties.”
New rule: no underwear in the dining room.
“What?” Her eyes flash up at me.
“Do it now before Edith returns and you have to do it anyway.” I put out my hand.
I stand behind her as she looks both ways, trying to make up her mind. In the end, she reaches under her dress and pulls down her lacy black underwear. I take it from her and bring it to my face.
“Fuck, you smell so good.” I kiss her behind the ear just as Edith strolls in.
“Look at you two lovebirds.” She takes the chair across from Paloma. “How do you stay so thin?” she asks out of the blue.
Paloma shifts uncomfortably in her chair. and I know it has nothing to do with Edith’s intrusive question.
“A strict diet of green apples and diet soda.” Paloma shrugs. “And six hours a day of rehearsal. Two hours of warm up. It adds up.”
“Wow, that’s intense.” Edith puts down her drink.
“I eat normal now.” She lifts her knee under the table, as if getting a feel for her bare pussy against her silky dress.
“Good girl,” I whisper in her ear so only she can hear me, then I take my seat at the head of the table.
The rest of the dinner, Paloma sits in her chair looking like a queen. She answers questions politely but doesn’t really engage. If her bright red cheeks are any indication, I’d say she’s wondering what I plan to do with her next. When she glances at me, I reach in the pocket of my trousers, fist her panties in my hand then bring them up to my nose, inhaling deeply. My cock is so fucking hard for her.
If we were alone, I’d be eating her pussy instead of pudding for dessert.
I hope the look in my eyes tells her as much.
“I’m sorry to cut the meal short.” Paloma clears her throat. “But I have an early day tomorrow.” She offers her go-to lie to get out of social situations.
I know for a fact she has nothing on her calendar tomorrow.
I stand to help her out of her chair. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
The red from her cheeks travels down to her neck and chest. “Good night,” she says to Edith. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, you too.” Edith waves her goodbye.
When Paloma is out of the room, Edith turns to me. “Wow, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. And so?—”
“Ethereal?” I ask, wishing I could follow Paloma up to my suite and bury my cock deep inside her all over again.
“I was going to say intense. She looks sweet and innocent, but she’s like a vortex that can swallow you whole.” Edith chuckles.
“You’re going to tell me to be careful?” I ask. “It’s a little late. I’m already married.”
“I wasn’t.” She lifts a brow, sitting back. “Man, you got it bad. I never thought I’d see the day. I thought fleeting relationships were more your speed. But look at you, you’re hooked.”
She’s not wrong.
“Thank you for that assessment.” I chuckle, dismissively.
We stay in the dining room for another drink, then it’s time for William to take Edith back to the city. I consider inviting her to spend the night and leave bright and early. But I’d much rather not deal with another one of Paloma’s fit of jealousy. I still haven’t forgotten how she almost left the house this afternoon. Didn’t she learn her lesson last time she tried to escape and fell in a frozen pond?
Fuck. Escape? My life has really taken a turn if that’s the right word to use.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.” Edith kisses my cheek, then ambles to the front door.
I see her out, then wave goodbye when she climbs into the back seat of my black sedan and William shuts the car door. I linger in the foyer, trying to make up my mind about the rest of the night. Work is the distraction I need. But I can’t focus knowing Paloma is in my bed naked right about now.
On my way upstairs, I fish Paloma’s panties from my pocket and smell them again. By the time I reach our suite, I’m hard as a rock again for her. I open the door quietly and blink to adjust to the firelight. Like every night, she pretends to be asleep. Gosh, she’s so fucking perfect. I amble to her side of the bed, removing my shoes and the rest of my clothes as I go.
I tower over her, aching to touch her. She lies on her back, with her face relaxed to the side on her pillow. Slowly, I pull the covers off her nude body, and the thumping in my chest picks up the pace.
Let her be.
The usual tiny voice in my head reminds me that staying away is the best thing for both of us. What did Edith call her? A vortex?
The way I’m drawn to her is not normal. I hover the pads of my fingers down her chest and stomach.
Let her be.
I stop to inhale, pumping my cock instead of touching her. Desperate desire flushes my system, inundating my brain and all logic along with it.
In another time.
Yeah, in another time, maybe she and I would’ve met at the ballet, maybe we would’ve met on the train from Bedford into the city, maybe our parents would’ve been real friends. Maybe we wouldn’t be enemies.
“In another time,” I murmur and give into my sin.
I brush the back of my fingers down the seam of her pussy. Her white underwear is wet. Smiling, I brace my knee on the mattress. “Did you touch yourself while I was downstairs entertaining our guest, Little Dove?”
She languidly shifts slightly toward me, eyes closed. The lean muscles on her thigh beg for my attention. Just one hit, I tell myself, like the fucking addict I’ve become. I crave her body as much as I crave air.
I hook my thumbs in her underwear and pull them down past her knees. A storm brewing in my chest shoves me in her direction, and then I’m lost, all logical thought gone. Sliding my hands up her inner thighs, I part them to expose her pussy. The bed dips under my weight as I nestle myself between her legs.
“Just one kiss, Little Dove. Do you understand?” I glance up at her.
“Hmm.” Her fingers brush her temple as her chest rises and falls with every breath, but she doesn’t wake.
I open-mouth kiss her bare pussy. Downstairs, I thought her scent was all I needed to get me through tonight. But I was so fucking wrong. A taste of the real thing is all I want. I drink from her, sucking and nibbling around her hard bud. It’s pathetic this desperate need that threatens to crack my chest open.
Her hips come up to meet my tongue. I press on her thighs with both my hands, parting them even more. She trembles in my arms as if she’s about to orgasm. I make myself stop and press my forehead to her mound.
What the fuck am I doing?
I bring my knees in and sit on my ankles. Her legs press hard around me as I rub my shaft on her seam. “You are so fucking beautiful. I can’t stand it.” I grip her waist and move up to cup her breast, rolling her taut nipple with my thumb. “You are driving me beyond the point of insanity.”
What is there after insanity if not ache and ruin? That’s what she’s done to me. And I’m too far gone at this point to even care. Only a fool would think that sitting here—watching my wife sleep, eating from her pussy like she’s my last meal, trying to decide if I should fuck her already or not—is the behavior of a man who hasn’t lost all reason and control.
I brace my hands on either side of her body and bend down to suck on her nipples. Her breath hitches, and I suck even harder. My cock throbs painfully, while desire tugs at the base of my balls. It’s agony to want her this much. To know that the more I give in, the faster I will lose her. Because I can’t keep this lie going for much longer. She has to know who her father really is. She has to know what she is to me, why she’s here, why all this regret.
Sliding my knee under her thighs, I press flush my cock to her entrance. Sweat beads roll down my back from the effort of resisting her. But who am I kidding. I’m already hers, hooked. She won this round the minute she said she was heading out, leaving me.
I would do anything to keep her.
She’s straddling me now. My tip is wet from her juices, while she waits for the storm inside my chest to ravish everything in its path or die down.
“Look at me when I fuck your sweet cunt, Little Dove.” I pant a breath, our noses inches away.
Her golden eyes fly open as a tear rolls down her temple. As always, she’s pure fucking ecstasy. I reach between our bodies, part her pussy lips and prowl into her with all the desire I had to stifle when I left her in the shower to finish on her own last night.
“Archer.” She wraps her legs and arms around my body as she takes my full length to the hilt.