18. Confessions
Alexander
Despite the questions hanging between us, neither of us speaks in the car.
Our conversation will have to wait until we’re alone.
Still, I can feel the tension radiating from her.
Without a word, I lift our joined hands and press a kiss to the back of hers.
A soft, soothing kiss. She turns her head toward me, and a trusting smile curves her lips.
In the rearview mirror, I catch Gilles’s discreet smile—a smile I’d never seen when he used to drive me around with Kristel.
When I open the door to my penthouse, Sam steps inside timidly, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the space. It’s the first time she’s been here. I’m suddenly glad I erased every trace of Kristel from this place. New décor. New furniture. New bedding.
I help Sam take off her coat and hang it next to mine. She walks toward the bay window to admire the view of the Seine and the Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance.
Without a word, I move closer and wrap my arms around her from behind. She leans into the embrace for a few seconds before turning to face me, her eyes full of questions. We’re both standing on the edge of a cliff. After tonight, nothing will ever be the same.
Yes, we need to talk.
But before that, I want to kiss her one more time.
When I lean toward her, she tilts her head up and her lips meet mine. This time, I take my time—tasting her, savoring the softness and warmth of her mouth. Our tongues seek each other out, discover, learn. There’s nothing left but sensation. Desire ignites between us.
My body is screaming at me to make her mine, but my conscience pulls me back.
Not like this.
Not before we talk.
I force myself to pull away, my breath unsteady.
“We need to talk.”
She nods, resting her forehead against my shoulder, as if she needs the contact just to stay upright.
“I know.”
Gently, I guide her to the couch, where we sit facing each other. I keep her hand in mine, my thumb brushing over her delicate knuckles. I stare at our intertwined hands. The contact grounds me, keeps me from losing my train of thought.
The silence stretches as I search for the right words. I take a deep breath.
“As you’ve probably guessed by now, I have feelings for you.”
She holds her breath, her fingers tightening around mine, but I continue.
“All of this happened very suddenly, and I’m not sure I fully understand what’s happening to me.
I don’t understand why I’m not more broken by your sister’s betrayal, nor why all I can think about is you.
About the kiss we shared. About the way you defended me in front of your father. The way you chose me.”
I pause before laying my soul completely bare.
“But I feel like I’m betraying your sister—even though she betrayed me first. It’s stupid, I know. But it’s how I feel. I feel like an asshole for wanting you the way I do. That’s why I tried to put some distance between us this week. I needed clarity. I thought I was protecting you.”
Silence settles between us. Sam lowers her gaze to our joined hands.
“And do you see things more clearly now?” she asks quietly.
“A little.”
I gently lift her chin so she’ll look at me.
“The attraction I feel toward you has been there for a long time. But back then, you were too young. You were just starting your life as a student, and I was already living an adult life. Our seven-year age gap felt insurmountable. So I smothered my feelings before they had a chance to exist. I was wrong.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I realize Oliver may have been right. Sam had feelings for me back then too. My choices hurt us both—needlessly.
That realization makes what I have to say next even harder, but if we’re going to have any chance, I can’t hide anything from her.
“Then there was Kristel,” I continue. “It almost happened by accident. She was at every party I went to. She made it very clear she was interested in me. One night, I’d had too much to drink, and when she kissed me, I didn’t push her away. We slept together that night.”
A tear slides down Sam’s cheek. Guilt claws at me. I wipe it away with my thumb, and she leans into my palm for a moment. I want to kiss her, but I need to finish.
“When I woke up, I knew I’d made a mistake.
But it was too late. I committed to a relationship with Kristel because otherwise, I would’ve lost any chance with you for nothing.
Over time, I learned to love your sister, even though our relationship wasn’t perfect.
Her betrayal hurt me—but it also awakened buried memories.
The ‘what ifs’ started creeping in. All of this is just to say that what I feel for you didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s been there for a long time.”
For a long moment, Sam says nothing. Then, her voice tight with emotion, she murmurs,
“You had feelings for me?”
“Yes, but I—”
“You’re such an arrogant asshole!”
She yanks her hand out of mine.
“Did it ever occur to you that I might’ve had a say in this?”
Her words hit me full force.
“You’re right,” I say softly. “I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t know you had feelings for me. I thought it was… one-sided.”
She stands abruptly and walks a few steps toward the bay window, turning her back to me. Her shoulders are tense, trembling.
I stand as well and move closer to her, without touching.
“I tried to forget you,” I admit. “Kristel was different from you. Simpler. She didn’t make me feel what you make me feel. It was easier. Less terrifying. I convinced myself that was what adult love was supposed to be—something predictable and comfortable. I lied to myself for three years.”
She finally turns around, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.
“And now?” she asks. “How am I supposed to know if what you’re feeling is real? What if in three or six months you wake up and realize you rushed into this? That we’re too complicated?”
I step closer and hold her gaze.
“The problem was never you. Three years ago, I wasn’t ready. But know this—I never felt with Kristel what I feel with you. Not once. What we share is different. More intense. More real. And yes, it terrifies me, because it demands more of me.”
I cup her face in my hands.
“I can’t promise I’ll never make mistakes. Or that everything will be easy. But I can promise you that what I feel is sincere. This isn’t a rebound. It’s not a reaction to Kristel’s betrayal. It’s you, Sam. It’s always been you. I was just too much of a coward to admit it. I’m done being that man.”
She looks at me for a long moment. I can see the battle raging inside her.
“What do you expect from me?” she finally asks.
“That we try. Both of us.”
She looks away toward the lights of Paris, thinking in silence.
“If we try,” she says at last, “what does that actually mean? Are we exclusive? Do we keep it secret? What do we do about the fake engagement?”
“For me, trying means giving ourselves a real chance. Being exclusive. Taking the time to discover each other as more than friends. Without rushing.”
I pause.
“As for the engagement—we keep up the public facade until the IPO. That gives us time. If it works, we make it real. If it doesn’t, we announce an amicable separation, just like planned.”
She turns back to me.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Let’s try. Because I have feelings for you too.”
My heart races. She closes the distance between us and kisses me softly. Her lips are warm against mine.
This time, it’s real.
Still, I force myself to slow down.
“Sam… gently. I promised we’d take our time.”
“I don’t want to slow down,” she breathes, her voice thick with desire. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”
At her words, the last shred of control I had left shatters. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her toward my bedroom, her legs wrapped around my hips.
Sam kisses me like her life depends on it.
“Tell me what you want,” I ask her as I set her down in front of my bed, my teeth gently nibbling her earlobe, my lips tracing a burning line along her neck.
“You. I want you,” she murmurs, her voice husky with desire. “I want you inside me.”
Those words ignite my senses. All my blood rushes to my cock. I immediately feel too tight in my pants.
I shed my jacket and unbutton my shirt. Her eyes devour me, following every inch of skin I reveal. Her legs press together as I close the distance between us. Her hand glides over my chest, tracing my muscles with the fervor of an artist discovering a work of art.
My impatient fingers find the zipper at her back. I lower it slowly, savoring every second. Her dress slides down her body and pools at her feet.
I hold my breath.
Delicate black lingerie against her milky skin. Full curves illuminated by the city lights. She’s magnificent, vulnerable, offered.
“You’re so beautiful.”
My voice trembles with desire. Her underwear makes my mouth water and sets my imagination on fire. God, I’ve never wanted anyone this much.
Without a word, I guide her to the bed. She lies down, eyes locked on me. I position myself between her legs and lean down to place a kiss on her mound. Her body arches as my lips seek her clit through the lace. A terribly erotic moan escapes her throat. My cock twitches against my belt.
My breath caresses her intimacy. I take a few seconds to readjust, then with one hand, I lower her bra. Her breasts are revealed. Divine. I cup one breast, taste its softness. She moans under my caresses.
With my mouth, I push her thong aside. Her pussy, glistening with desire, appears. Jesus, she’s perfect.
My tongue grazes her clit. Once. Twice. Three times. Each pass tears a growl of pleasure from her. Then I devour her. Her taste explodes in my mouth. I’m nothing but hunger. Hunger for her, for her taste, for her pleasure.
I draw circles around her clit, alternating pressure and tongue strokes. Her moans transform into whimpers. Her hands grip my hair, press me against her, silently begging me to continue.
My erection is painful, but I continue my sweet torture. I want her to come on my tongue. I want to drink her climax.
My hands move back up to her breasts, gently pinching her nipples while my tongue plunges into her. She growls. I begin my thrusts in her tight slit. Her body writhes, her hips press against my face. I don’t take my eyes off her. She’s so beautiful like this, completely at my mercy.
Finally, she convulses. Her legs and torso jerk with each spasm. I don’t let go. I accompany her orgasm, my tongue pressed against her clit until the last wave of pleasure.
When her ecstasy fades, I lie down beside her and hold her against me. Her breathing gradually calms against my shoulder.
She sits up to kiss me. Her tongue explores my mouth, tasting her own pleasure on my lips. Our breaths mingle. Her hand descends toward my erection.
Her nimble fingers unbutton my pants. She rids me of my last garments. A moan escapes me when her fingers close around me. My eyes are riveted on her face.
Her breathing grows ragged as she discovers my erect member. Her gaze clouds with desire. I know she loves touching me.
Her lips part. She begins her strokes. I’ve never seen anything so erotic. Her other hand caresses my balls with an expert touch, never taking her eyes off me. She registers every expression that crosses my features.
I guess her intentions when she leans down slowly. Her tongue grazes my tip.
My entire body tenses with anticipation.
When she takes me in her mouth, I have to summon every ounce of control not to thrust deep into her throat.
Her full lips welcoming my cock drain all the blood from my brain.
The sensation of her mouth around my shaft is extraordinary.
Her cheeks hollow to tighten the pressure as she slides down and up along my length.
With one hand, I grip her hair, not wanting to miss a second of the show.
Fuck. She’s killing me. As she works me, pleasure builds in waves.
Soon my balls tighten and I try to push her back gently, but her grip closes around me and I come in her mouth in long spurts.
“Fuck,” I growl as she swallows my release, a satisfied smile on her lips.
I pull her to me and kiss her deeply.
“If this is how you define ‘taking our time and going slow,’ I’m all for it,” I breathe to her through the haze of my ecstasy.
She giggles and stretches out against me.