Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Gideon Maddox groaned, the sound animalistic, deep from this chest, and ragged.
Throwing his head back, he growled through clenched teeth, “Fuuuck—yes!”
His body, sweat-drenched, each muscle taut with pleasure, jerked as he emptied himself into his wife for the second time that night, his cock buried deep, so…fucking…deep.
“Gideon!” his wife screamed, her lush, supple body hot and writhing beneath him, her fingernails digging furrows into his shoulders, her thick legs wrapped around him, holding him to her, inside her.
Moaning, his large body shaking, he dragged in a trembling breath and looked down at her, taking in the sensual and erotic picture she made.
That ever-present beast rising, he forced it down, refusing to let it loose, to let it have its way, to give it what it wanted.
Kendra.
Swearing, he shook his head, desperate to clear away the foolishness, the useless yet dangerous thoughts that had been coming more and more often over the last three years.
Instead, he focused on the then and now.
He’d fucked her. Seed dispensed. Job done.
At least she isn’t bad in bed.
It wasn’t a waste of his Sunday morning.
Pushing himself upright, he slowly withdrew, slipping from the cradle of her thighs to plop down beside her, his chest heaving.
He closed his eyes, willing the image of his wife, replete and well-pleasured, to disappear from his mind.
He didn’t want to see that, to remember that. To allow the beast to wallow in its own pride at pleasuring its woman.
The beast, a part of him for too long, seemed to have a mind, drive, needs of its own, but it was simply him at his most basic, most primal…most vulnerable.
The man, the higher reasoning, the one driven by goals, logic, and efficiency, cared little about what the beast wanted, only allowing it even a sliver of freedom when there were enemies to tear to shreds.
The beast was driven by instinct. The man was driven by the need to control, to conquer, to never be weak again.
The beast enjoyed sex, the primal need to plant seed, to continue the bloodline, to claim a mate in the most elemental way.
The man also enjoyed sex, but his need was practical—he needed an heir. And so he fucked his legal wife.
A scheduled “meeting of bodies” every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday nights.
Wanting more from Kendra was foolishness; it gave her too much power, too much control, allowed her access to the deepest parts of himself, the parts where that goddamn beast dwelt. So, offering Kendra more of him was impossible.
Sex was sex, though, a means to an end.
An end his wife wasn’t fulfilling.
Sure, the sex was good—fucking out of this world—but he could find that anywhere.
Women were a dime a dozen in his world. They all wanted the sexy, wealthy, powerful Gideon Maddox to pound them into splinters in his bed.
He could have that whenever he wanted, had been tempted to do so on many occasions, but one thing kept him from taking that step.
It was boring.
At forty, he’d had more than his fair share of women, empty encounters with fame-chasers, gold-diggers, and bored socialites looking for a quick thrill. And it had grown old. As he had.
And he had nothing to show for all that fucking around other than a reputation for leaving them wanting more, and having a big, fat cock.
That, though, held no value to him or the empire he’d built with his brothers.
But a wife…she supposedly added value because she provided the wholesome image of the family man, the loyal, caring, adoring husband. And she was capable of providing him a legitimate heir, someone to mold into his image and, one day, take over as head of the Maddox empire.
At least that’s what he’d believed three years ago.
Now, however, he was rethinking his choice in wives.
Kendra, for all her potential, was becoming a liability rather than the investment he’d chosen, charmed, and consummated.
Beside him on the bed, his wife sighed heavily, contentedly, then rolled toward him to place a dainty hand on his sweat-soaked chest.
Tensing, he grabbed her wrist.
For all this thoughts of benefit versus failure, he still desired his wife more than he’d ever desired any woman—ever. If he let her touch him, they’d go for round three, and he didn’t have time for that. Twice was enough for his purposes; it was up to her to make use of the…aftermath.
“I’m headed to the office,” he ground out, pushing her hand away as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked toward the bathroom. He called over his shoulder, “I won’t be home tonight, so don’t plan dinner.”
His wife’s soft voice drifted into the bathroom behind him. “Gideon? It’s…Sunday. Can you—”
“Something’s come up,” he responded, already knowing what she was going to say.
She wanted to spend the day with him, doing couple bullshit like walking through the farmer’s market for produce they could have delivered within the hour, or visiting a vineyard for a wine tasting for a wine that was worth less than the Romanée-Conti he already had in his wine cellar at his thirty-acre estate in Schroon Lake.
“I’ll call you if I’ll be gone longer. Make whatever plans you want, just don’t include me. ”
He knew he was being an asshole, but his patience with her was wearing thinner and thinner by the month.
Month by month by month, as the readout on the pregnancy tests always came up negative.
Inside him, that fucking beast snarled at his casual dismissal of his wife, its mate, but he jerked the leash, silencing it.
He really needed to get a handle on his madness.
“Alright,” his wife replied, her voice still soft, but this time the hurt was there, too. “I’ll go see Cora and the kids.” A gentle smile softened her face, a look he was familiar with.
Cora was his brother Adrian’s wife, and they had two kids together, Pearl and Winnie.
Gideon’s wife, a maternal female, through and through, liked spending time at their penthouse playing with them.
She was often called on last minute to babysit, which Kendra didn’t mind, despite often having an already overfull schedule.
Kendra was a caregiver, someone who always looked after others—it was one of the reasons he’d chosen her for his wife. It wasn’t the only reason; she met many of his requirements for the wife of Gideon Maddox.
His wife couldn’t just be anyone—he could have anyone, and that was why an arrangement was preferrable. It kept out the less desirables looking to root themselves in his life and make a mess of the order he’d spent decades arranging just so.
If she’d live up to her end of the fucking bargain, she’d have her own kid to fuss over. And it wasn’t like she was infertile or taking birth control, so there was something else wrong with her that medical science couldn’t detect.
Maybe God just doesn’t want you to reproduce….
Maybe God had sent him Kendra to keep him from filling the earth with more Gideon Maddoxes.
Their bloodline was already tainted with his father’s many sins—the sins of the father passed on to the sons….
He could still hear his father’s voice—that motherfucking asshole—in his head.
“You’re just a useless piece of shit—not even your own mother wants you, and that’s why she left!”
Maybe the family curse had been passed down to him, and would eventually ruin any children he sired.
Or maybe you just picked the wife with a useless womb.
Biting back a curse, one he knew was unfair, he hurried through a shower, wiping away the sex sweat and scent of his wife’s pleasure.
He carefully dressed in a dark blue, nearly black, suit, tailored to his boxer’s frame, handmade Italian shoes, silk tie, obsidian cufflinks, and a tie pin with a diamond so big it dwarfed most engagement rings.
He studied himself in the mirror, taking in his attire, the work he’d put into his physique, the way his black hair hung just right, and the way his green eyes gleamed.
He wasn’t a vain man, simply a self-aware one. He knew his worth, what he was owed, what he earned, and what he deserved. Not once in forty years had he ever failed to obtain what he wanted; his decisions precise, his risks minimized, his choices impeccable.
So why did it feel like his choice in wife was the biggest mistake he’d ever made?
And why did that thought make the beast snap its teeth?