Chapter 16
Sixteen
JASON
Jason couldn’t sleep.
Not with her curled against him, soft and warm and utterly trusting in a way that made his heart stutter in his chest. Her face in sleep was a study in contradictions—all the razor-sharp edges of Victoria softened into something that made him forget how to breathe.
His fingers itched to trace the curve of her cheek, the bow of her lips that hours ago had been making his name sound like a hit single on repeat.
Their courtship had been straight out of a how-to guide for the perfectly repressed.
For a year, Victoria had played the role of the perfect girlfriend with all the warmth of a designer ice sculpture, tolerating his kisses and touches like they were items to check off her to-do list. Her insistence on waiting for their wedding night had seemed romantic at the time.
In retrospect, it had been about as romantic as a business merger.
That wedding night had been a disaster of epic proportions.
Her screams of agony, the crack of her palm against his cheek, her dramatic exit—all because he’d dared to make love to his wife.
He’d tried to apologize, though he’d been gentler than a pastry chef with a soufflé, holding back every ounce of passion she’d apparently found so horrifying.
But Victoria had made her position crystal clear—intimacy was repulsive, and the prospect of carrying his child ranked somewhere between getting food poisoning and ruining her perfect figure with what she’d called a “nine-month invasion of her body.”
For two years, they’d lived like strangers who happened to share a zip code. Separate bedrooms, separate lives, connected only by a marriage certificate and their mutual social calendar. The ice queen he’d married would sooner have worn knockoff designer than allow this kind of intimacy.
Yet here she was, her body fitted against his like she belonged there, her hand resting over his heart as if she had every right to claim it.
The Victoria he knew treated physical contact like it was going out of style, yet this woman in his arms had matched his passion with an enthusiasm that had both thrilled and amazed him.
His hand smoothed over her hip, unable to resist touching her. She stirred slightly, making one of those soft sounds that did dangerous things to his self-control, but didn’t wake. The trust implicit in her deep sleep made something fierce and possessive stir in his chest.
Everything about her was different now. The way she smiled—actual smiles, not those calculated curves she used to dispense like rare currency at charity events.
The way she laughed, full and genuine instead of that practiced social tinkle.
Even the way she moved had changed, all that rigid poise replaced by a natural grace that made him want to watch her for hours.
And tonight… Jesus. Tonight had shattered every preconception he’d had about his wife.
The Victoria he knew would rather die than beg for anything, let alone plead for his touch, his kisses, more.
But this woman had matched him passion for passion, meeting his intensity with her own until he’d lost his mind completely.
She’d responded to every touch, every kiss, every thrust like she was made for him, like she craved him as much as he craved her.
The memory of her crying out his name, her body trembling beneath his, made desire pool hot in his belly again. His hand tightened on her hip before he could stop himself. She shifted in response, pressing back against him with a sleepy murmur that tested every ounce of his restraint.
Who was this woman who’d somehow replaced his ice queen of a wife? More importantly, why did his heart feel like it was trying to escape his chest every time she looked at him with those warm, mischievous eyes that held none of Victoria’s usual calculation?
He knew he should be suspicious of this transformation. The cynical businessman in him said this had to be some kind of play, another manipulation. But his heart… his heart recognized something in her that felt real, felt true in a way nothing in their marriage ever had before.
The truth hit him like a sucker punch to the gut: he was falling in love with her. Not the Victoria he’d married, but this warm, passionate, amazing woman who’d somehow taken her place. And that terrified him more than any hostile takeover ever had.
She stirred again in his arms, this time with a soft moan that went straight to his groin. Her hips shifted restlessly against his, and his body responded instantly, hardening against the soft curve of her ass.
“Jay?” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep, and his heart did something complicated in his chest at the nickname. Victoria had never called him anything but Jason, proper and formal.
“Jay?” she mumbled again, this time more clearly. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Can’t,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Not with you in my bed.”
She groaned softly and snuggled closer, fitting herself against him like she’d been designed for exactly that purpose. “This is nice,” she murmured against his chest. “The book never mentioned this part—the sweet midnight kisses, the cuddling. Romance novels always skip the best bits…”
Jason frowned slightly. There she went again, talking about books and stories like they were some kind of reference point. She’d been doing it for days—little comments that didn’t quite make sense, references to things that felt just slightly off.
But then she buried her face against his neck and inhaled deeply, and all thoughts of her strange comments evaporated. “God, you smell amazing,” she breathed, her lips brushing his skin. “Feel amazing too.”
Something in Jason snapped. He cupped her face in his hands and captured her lips in a kiss that was anything but sweet. She opened for him immediately, eager and willing as his tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her with a passion that surprised even him.
The little sounds she made drove him crazy—soft whimpers and hitched breaths, tiny moans that vibrated against his lips.
When he nipped at her bottom lip, she made this desperate mewling sound that shot straight to his groin.
She felt so delicate in his arms, so small against his larger frame, and something fierce and protective roared to life in his chest.
This possessiveness, this overwhelming need to shelter and claim—he’d never felt anything like it before. Even during that disastrous wedding night with Victoria, he hadn’t felt this burning need to protect and possess. This was different. She was different.
She groaned into his mouth, pressing closer, and his arms tightened around her instinctively.
When he finally released her lips, he couldn’t help but stare.
She was breathtaking—lips swollen from his kisses, eyes heavy with desire, cheeks flushed pink.
She gazed up at him with such open want, such trust, that it made his chest ache.
“Jay,” she whispered, voice rough with need. “Please… again…”
She rubbed against him like a cat in heat, and he hardened fully against her hip. A growl rumbled up from his chest as he claimed her mouth again, deeper this time, hungrier.
“It’s going to be a wild ride, sweetheart,” he warned against her lips.
Her answering smile was pure sin. “Good thing I love wild rides.”
Jesus Christ. His heart actually stopped for a moment at her words, then kicked back into double time. This woman was going to be the death of him, and what a way to go.
Jason claimed her mouth again, drinking in her soft moans like they were the finest whiskey.
She tasted incredible—sweet and addictive, making his head spin.
His lips traced a burning path down her throat, and she arched into him with such desperate need that primal satisfaction roared through his blood.
The power he felt having her respond so eagerly to his touch was intoxicating.
When he reached her breasts, he had to pause, had to look.
That first wedding night, Victoria had refused to undress fully, insisting on keeping her silk negligee on.
“My naked body is for my eyes only,” she’d declared coldly.
But now… God. Her body was a masterpiece.
He’d always admired her slender figure from afar, but seeing her like this, bare and beautiful in the dim light, desire hit him like a physical force.
Her breasts were perfect—small, firm, topped with rosy peaks that begged for his attention. When he cupped them in his hands, testing their weight, she made a sound that shot straight to his groin. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, watching them tighten under his touch.
“Are you planning to just stare all night?” she asked breathlessly. “Because I’m pretty sure there’s a more hands-on approach available.”
His lips curved against her skin. “Impatient, sweetheart?”
“When you’re looking at me like I’m your favorite dessert? Yeah, a little bit.”
He rewarded her sass by taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. Her sharp gasp turned into a moan when he grazed it with his teeth.
“Oh God,” she whimpered, arching into his mouth. “That’s just… that’s not fair…”
“No?” He switched to her other breast, letting his tongue circle the tight peak before sucking harder. “What’s not fair about it?”
“The way you—ah!—the way you’re teasing me,” she managed between gasps. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he nipped gently. “Pretty sure this counts as torture in some states.”
He chuckled against her skin, the vibration making her shiver. “Torture, hmm?” His hand came up to play with her neglected breast, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers. “Should I stop, then?”
“Don’t you dare,” she growled, then moaned as he sucked harder. “Jay… please…”
The desperate need in her voice made his cock throb. He loved reducing her to incoherent pleas, loved how responsive she was to every touch. When he blew cool air across her wet nipple, she actually whimpered.