Chapter 23
Grey
Six months later.
I wake up in our bed. His arm is around me. His breath is warm on my neck.
The fear is gone. Not completely. Sometimes I still wake up in the middle of the night, convinced Rose has somehow manipulated Cain into hating me. But then Cain pulls me closer, mumbles something in his sleep, and I remember she’s gone; she can’t take him from me.
The day passes like most days. Breakfast, coffee and work from home, Cain rarely goes into the office anymore.
Not since the board cleared him. Not since he realized he could run his empire from anywhere.
I help him. Not as his secretary. As his partner.
We work side by side in his study. I answer emails.
He makes calls. Sometimes we look at each other and forget what we were doing.
It's domestic. Ordinary. Perfect. But underneath it all, the obsession is still there.
It's just... evolved.
That night, I find myself watching him again.
I'm in the bedroom, the door is open. I can see him in the living room, sitting on the couch, and reading something on his phone. He's wearing a gray t-shirt, loose sweatpants, his hair is messy, the way it gets at the end of the day when he's let his guard down.
He's beautiful. My hand moves without thinking, down my stomach, over my waistband. He doesn't know I'm watching. Or maybe he does. I push my pants down. Wrap my hand around myself. He shifts on the couch and stretches. The fabric of his shirt pulls across his chest.
I bite my lip.
Yes, this is what I needed. I move my hand slowly. Matching the rhythm of his breathing. He doesn't look up. But his hand moves to his own waistband. He knows. He knows I'm watching. He's playing along. I watch him push his sweatpants down. Watch him wrap his hand around himself.
We're in sync. Pleasuring ourselves, watching each other from across the room.
This is what we are now. Two men who can't stop wanting each other. Two men who will never stop wanting each other.
"Cain."
The word comes out of my mouth and he looks up. Gray eyes meet mine across the room.
"Come here."
I don't hesitate. I walk to him. Naked. Unashamed. His. He's still on the couch. Still hard, still watching me with those hungry eyes.
I straddle him. His hands find my hips.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Watching me all the time?"
"Yes."
"Loving me?"
"Yes."
He pulls me down kissing me. I sink onto him. We move together. Slow and deep. The way we've learned to move together over the past six months. His hands are on my back. My hands are on his shoulders.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I know." He kisses my throat. "I love you too."
I ride him. Harder, faster and frantic in a different way than before. Not in the hopeless way because I'm afraid of losing him. But because I have him. Because he's real. Because this is ours.
He finishes inside me.
I finish on his chest.
THE END