Chapter 26
Adrian
I wake to the sensation of being inside her.
For a moment, my brain can't process it. This is the stuff of my wildest fucking dreams. My wife’s cunt surrounding me, strangling my cock.
When I open my eyes and see her, large breasts with dusty rose nipples jutted forward, rounded belly, and long dark hair thrown back as she rides me, I am pretty sure that there is no better sight.
She's fucking stunning.
And she's taking what she wants.
This is new.
Not the sex. We've had plenty of that over the last week. But this is new, her initiating.
She's playing her version of chess, and fuck if I don't love it.
"Sera," I groan, hands moving to her hips instinctively.
Her eyes open, meeting mine. There's no hesitation in them. No distance. Just heat and confidence and something that makes my chest tighten.
"Good morning," she says, voice breathy as she continues moving. "I hope you don’t mind that I woke you.” She releases a heavy moan, and I tighten my grip around her hips.
It takes everything in me to not take control. To not flip her over and pound into her like I want to. But watching her like this, confident and in control, is just as sexy.
"I can stop," she offers, but there's a tease in her voice. She knows I won't let her stop.
"Don't you fucking dare."
This has been our pattern since the dinner. Since she decided to stop fighting and start playing.
She wants something. She seduces me for it.
She needs something. She negotiates through my desire to please her.
I’m like a fucking dog she’s training, and it should bother me, this transactional approach to our marriage, but it doesn’t. Instead, I’m fascinated.
I want to know how far we can go.
"You're so beautiful like this," I say roughly, one hand sliding up to cup her breast. "Taking what you need. Using me."
"Is that what I'm doing?" She grinds down on me, and we both groan. "Using you?"
"Isn't it?"
"Maybe I’m rewarding you.” Her hands are on my chest now, nails digging in slightly as she bounces harder. "Maybe I’m rewarding myself.”
"Are you?”
"What do you think?" She leans forward, changing the angle, and I feel her tighten around me. "Does it feel like I'm faking it?"
No. It doesn't.
That's what's so dangerous about this new game we're playing. She started strategic. Calculated. Using sex as currency, but somewhere along the way, the performance became real.
Or maybe it was always real, and the strategy is just giving her permission to want me.
"Touch yourself," I order. "I want to watch you come on my cock."
She doesn't hesitate. Her hand slides between her legs, fingers finding her clit. I watch, mesmerized, as she works herself while riding me.
"That's it," I encourage. "Take what you need. Use me."
"Adrian—" My name comes out as a moan.
"I know. I can feel you getting close. Can feel you tightening around me." My hands move to her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. "Come for me, Sera."
She does. Her whole-body tenses, back arching, a cry tearing from her throat as she comes. The sight of her, lost in pleasure, trusting me enough to let go completely, pushes me over the edge.
I thrust up hard as I finish, burying myself as deep as possible, filling her.
We stay like that for a moment. Connected. Breathing hard. Her hands on my chest, mine on her hips.
Then she collapses forward, resting her head on my shoulder.
"Good morning," she says again, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
I laugh. Actually laugh. "Yeah. Good fucking morning."
She lifts her head to look at me, and there's something soft in her expression. A kind of twinkle in her eyes that makes me slightly concerned.
"I want something," she says, jutting out her bottom lip. I want to bite it. Instead, I laugh.
"What is it this time?"
The words come out more amused than they should. Because I should be annoyed by this. Should resent being manipulated.
I’m not. I know that things have changed between us. Sera isn’t using sex to get what she wants, despite what she wants us both to believe.
She wants me just as much as I want her.
"Today. I want to actually do something. Not just...be here,” she sighs. “I’m bored, and I’m going crazy.”
"You work four days a week now. How are you bored?”
She rolls her eyes. "In my room. Alone. With books." She shifts her hips slightly, making me hiss as she brushes against my cock. "I want to go out. With you."
"That's not safe."
"With security. With you." Her hand slides down my chest, nails scraping lightly. "Please."
Her eyes are large and innocent, and my brain is flooded with endorphins. It’s the only reason I say yes.
"What did you have in mind?"
Her eyes light up, and fuck, that expression does something to me.
"Baby shopping. We need... everything. A crib. Clothes. I don't even know what we need." She bites her lip. "I looked it up. There are stores. We could go together. Pick things out."
Together.
Like a normal couple preparing for a baby.
Not a forced marriage. Not a transaction. Just... us.
"Fine."
"Really?" She looks genuinely surprised.
"Really. But heavy security. And if anything feels off, we leave immediately."
"Okay." She leans down and kisses me. Soft. Sweet. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. You're going to have to earn this."
Her smile turns wicked. "I thought I just did."
"That was the down payment." I flip us suddenly, pinning her beneath me. She gasps, and I feel her clench around me. "Now I'm going to collect the rest."
"Adrian—"
I take her hard, claiming every inch of her, reminding her who's really in control here even as I give her what she wants.
Because that's the game we're playing now.
She thinks she's winning by learning to manipulate me.
What she doesn't realize is that I'm letting her.
Because watching her learn her power is more satisfying than any control I could force.
By noon, we're at some upscale baby boutique in SoHo.
Sera's eyes are wide as she takes it in. "This is... a lot."
"You said you wanted to shop for the baby. This is the best place." I keep my hand on her lower back, aware of the three guards positioned around the store. Leo insisted on the extra security, and I agreed. I don’t like how we are out in the open, but I am trying to remain in the moment.
Taking Sera out was a calculated risk. But seeing her face light up as she runs her hand over tiny clothes makes it worth it.
"Adrian, look at this." She holds up something small and blue. "It's so tiny."
"He's going to be tiny." I move closer. "At first."
"I know, but..." She presses the outfit to her chest. "It's just hitting me. We're having a baby. An actual human baby who's going to wear clothes this small and need us for everything."
There's something vulnerable in her voice. Real.
"Are you scared?" I ask quietly.
"Terrified." She looks up at me. "Are you?"
"Yes, I have no fucking clue how to be a father.”
The admission surprises us both.
I continue. "I don’t want him to be like me.”
Sera freezes. Her large eyes look up at me, and I see a pinch of pity in them.
“I just mean—"
She shakes her head. “You aren’t a bad man, Adrian.”
I shrug. “A lot of people would disagree with that.” I glance down at her stomach. “I want him to have more than I did. More options.”
“Then, give them to him.”
"It's not that simple."
"Isn't it?" She covers my hand with hers. "You get to choose Adrian. Every day. What kind of man you are. What kind of father you'll be. You’ll be head of the family.”
She’s not wrong, but what she’s ignoring is how embedded the expectations of the heir are when it comes to the Nero family. But I don’t want to burst her bubble.
"Come on," I say, needing to move before I say something I can't take back. "Let's pick out a crib."
We spend the next hour looking at furniture. Sera has opinions on everything—the wood finish, the mattress firmness, whether we need a changing table or can just use a dresser.
I watch her more than the furniture. The way she lights up talking about the nursery. The way she touches everything carefully, like she's afraid it'll disappear.
The way she includes me in every decision, asking my opinion, waiting for my input.
Like we're actually in this together.
We're looking at cribs when she stops in front of one. Dark Italian wood. Simple. Beautiful.
"This one," she says. "It's perfect."
I pull out my phone to arrange delivery.
"Adrian." She touches my arm. "You don't have to buy everything I look at."
"Why not? You're carrying my son. You should have whatever you want."
Something shifts in her expression. Softens.
"Thank you." It's quiet. Genuine. Not part of the game.
And it does something to me I don't expect.
I pull her closer, my hand on her lower back, fingers spreading possessively. "What else do you want?"
"I want..." She hesitates. Looks up at me. "I want to stop feeling like this is temporary. Like you're going to take it all away when I stop being useful."
The words hit harder than they should.
"I won't."
"You say that now."
"I mean it." My hand finds her stomach, feeling the small swell where our son grows. "You're mine, Seraphina. That means I take care of what's mine."
"Is that all I am? A possession?"
"No." The word comes out harsh. "You're my wife. The mother of my child. You're—"
I stop because I don't know how to finish that sentence.
You're becoming something I didn't expect.
You're making me feel things I don't know how to control.
You're winning this game we're playing and I'm letting you because watching you win is better than anything I've ever felt.
But I can't say any of that.
So instead I kiss her. Right there in the middle of the baby store with security watching and other shoppers pretending not to stare.
And she kisses me back.
Not because she's negotiating.
Just because she wants to.
When we break apart, she's breathless, cheeks flushed.
"We should get the crib," she says.
"We're getting everything. The crib. The dresser. Whatever you want."
"Adrian—"