Jackson
My mind has been reeling since I left Bennet's apartment.
What did she mean, she'll never be able to move on?
I've replayed those words so many times I could probably reproduce the exact pitch of her voice.
And fuck, she felt good in my arms again.
Watching her with James, the way the two of them fed off each other's energy, I caught myself smiling so many damn times.
I haven't smiled like that in months. I know exactly what that means, too.
I've known for a while. I've just gotten very good at looking anywhere else.
"Marcus. Where are you right now?"
"I'm here, Rian."
"Really?" She climbs off me and lies on her side, head propped against her palm. "Because I just had your dick in my mouth, you're not hard, and you haven't made a single sound. We haven't had sex in a week, and you are gone. Mentally, physically, all of it. Exhibit A."
Fuck. She's right, and I've got nothing.
No defense, no explanation that isn't a confession, no version of I'm just tired that either of us would believe.
I'm lying in bed beside the woman I'm supposed to marry in three weeks, replaying a sentence another woman said to me earlier today, and Rian figured out where my head was before I did.
She always knows. That's the hell of it. She's not stupid. She's the smartest person in every room she walks into, and I've been asking her to pretend she isn't.
I lean in and pull her into a kiss, dragging my tongue against hers and willing my body to get with the fucking program. I graze my teeth along her jaw and she lets out a soft groan.
Yes. Okay. More of that.
"Run your nails down my back," I whisper against her skin as I trail lower and pull her taut nipple into my mouth.
Her hands move over my shoulders gently, barely scratching the surface of what I need.
"Harder, baby."
I climb over her and her legs spread for me. This time her nails dig in, and the sting gets a response. Goosebumps break over my arms as I drop my head against her neck and ask her to do it again, harder this time.
She does.
"Fuck, yeah. Like that. Again. Please, harder."
I kiss her hard and buck my hips against her, letting her feel my body respond. Relief hits first. Thank fuck. I can do this. I can be here with her, give her what she deserves, stop thinking for five fucking minutes and just feel.
Then I take her hand and wrap her fingers around my throat.
"Squeeze, baby."
She hesitates.
It's only half a second, but I see the confusion. I've never asked this of her before. Never even hinted at it. Her fingers tighten carefully, asking me how far I want her to go.
My body responds immediately.
I take her other hand and put it on the opposite side of my throat. "Hard as you can."
I line my cock up with her slick entrance, and the second I feel her hands squeeze, I press in.
"Fuck. Fuck."
I slam into her, over and over and over.
Harder, faster, chasing every sharp little bite of pain she gives me and asking for more.
Rian holds on exactly the way I asked her to, even though none of this is familiar to her, and some part of me registers that she is still trying.
Even now, after calling me out for not being here with her, she's trying to give me whatever the fuck I seem to need.
"Just like that. Clench, baby. Let me feel you. So fucking good."
One of her hands leaves my throat and grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls. The pain shoots straight through me, and my control nearly goes with it.
"This is what you want?" she growls against my mouth before catching my bottom lip between her teeth.
"Fuck. I'm gonna..."
She arches against me and bites down on my shoulder as she comes, and the pain pushes me over with her. I hold onto her while it tears through me, both of us shaking through the last of it until we're spent.
Then everything goes quiet.
I roll onto my back and put my forearm over my face.
The shame doesn't take long. I know exactly what I just did. Worse, I know exactly why those particular things worked when nothing else did.
"I'm..."
"Don't."
Rian sits up and gets out of bed. She keeps her back to me while she takes a long breath, and when she finally speaks, her voice is level again.
"That will never happen again."
I lower my arm.
"You don't have to love me. But you will never use my body in place of hers again. Ever." She reaches for her robe and pulls it around herself. "Go home. I'll see you tomorrow."
I scramble out of bed and yank on my boxers before following her.
Fuck.
She deserves so much better than this. She's deserved better than me since the hotel balcony, and every time I've promised myself I was going to start giving it to her, I've somehow found a new way to prove I can't.
I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. "Rian. It's not a her thing. It's a kink thing."
Even to me, it sounds weak.
"A kink you never once mentioned until the first time we had sex since she came back." She doesn't pull away yet. "I'm not an idiot, Marcus."
"No. I know you're not."
"Do you?" She pulls herself out of my arms and turns around. Her eyes are dry, which is worse than if she were crying.
"And while we're having this particular elephant-in-the-room conversation, why am I the only person in your life who calls you Marcus?"
I stare at her.
"Everyone gets Jackson. Bennet. Blaire. Your friends. Your employees half the time. Her." Rian takes a step closer. "But me, your fiancée, I got the name on your business card."
I've never even thought about it.
Or maybe that's another lie I'm telling myself because the alternative is admitting I knew there were pieces of me I never handed her.
"So answer me honestly. Just once." Her voice stays steady, but I can see what maintaining that steadiness is costing her. "Where was your head while your cock was in my mouth, Marcus? Can you promise me, on everything, that you weren't thinking of her?"
I open my mouth. Nothing. One second passes, then another, and Rian just watches me. I could lie. Jesus Christ, I could give her one fucking lie and let her keep some dignity after everything I've already taken from her.
But she asked for honesty.
And I can't promise her.
Her eyes close briefly.
There it is.
My silence answers the question more cleanly than anything I've said to her in months.
"Listen." She raises both palms, and I've never seen Rian Fields look this tired.
"I'm the one who turned this into something it was never intended to be.
I pressed for us to be real instead of contractual.
And I realized my mistake the moment you held her face in your hand and called her baby.
I just didn't have the guts to say it out loud until tonight. "
She tightens the belt of her robe even though it's already tight. Her fingers are trembling, and neither of us acknowledges it.
"So here's what I propose. We get through the wedding.
You serve your contractual year of bondage, the board gets their optics, and I get my company.
" Her voice settles fully into the one she uses across conference tables.
"I won't stop you from being with anyone.
Anyone. Just please be discreet. Don't turn me into a public spectacle.
That's all I'm asking for. That's the whole revised term sheet. "
"Rian..."
"No. You don't need to say anything."
She looks at me then, and the control is back everywhere except her eyes.
"I can survive not being loved, Marcus. I've had enough practice. I can't survive being humiliated."
Fuck me.
She turns toward the bathroom.
"Lock the door on your way out."
And this time I don't follow her.
I stand there in my boxers with three weeks until our wedding and finally admit the thing I've spent months trying to negotiate my way around.
I never moved on.
I just found someone willing to stand where Rose used to be.