The bed groaned, vibrating with the rhythm of two bodies entwined. They clung to each other, skin slick with sweat, as the intensity of their union reached a fever pitch. The man lay back, surrendering control to the woman moving above him. His fingers traced and gripped her, both lost in a powerful, desperate embrace.
Her movements were swift and deliberate-a rhythmic rise and fall that drew a long, ragged groan from him. It was a different experience for him, more potent and exhilarating than anything he had known before. Though he had been with other women, none could compare to his wife. Ivanka moved with a confidence that suggested intimacy was a language she spoke fluently.
Fidell gripped her waist, his thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. With one final, forceful surge, he reached his peak. He collapsed onto the mattress, chest heaving as he tried to steady his racing heart.
Ivanka stared down at her limp husband with heavy, lackluster eyes and let out a sharp sigh. "Why did you finish so early?"
Fidell shook his head, still gasping for air. "I'm sorry, darling. But you... you're just so incredible. I couldn't help myself."
Ivanka said nothing. She disentangled herself from his embrace, reached for a silk robe on the sofa, and threw it on, leaving her lingerie abandoned on the floor. She walked to the window, opened it, and lit a cigarette. Irritation flared within her; her body felt hollow, completely unfulfilled by their session.
Fidell was tall and well-built-he should have had the stamina to match. That's what Ivanka had expected. But expectation and reality were two different worlds. They had made love twice now, and both times, Fidell had tapped out first. Ivanka kept this simmering resentment to herself.
"Are you angry, love?" Fidell asked tentatively. "I'm sorry. I-I'll try harder next time."
Ivanka turned and forced a small smile. "Maybe you're just exhausted."
Fidell nodded, rubbing his face. "True. The wedding prep, the office work... it's taken a toll."
"Exhausted from the office? Or from dealing with your screaming ex-girlfriend?"
Ivanka's words made Fidell stiffen. He sat bolt upright, staring at his wife as she blew out a plume of smoke. "I already told you the truth. I ended things with that woman."
Ivanka watched the smoke curl in the air and gave a thin smile. "I wonder who's lying. You or her. Because I remember her saying you only broke things off a couple of days ago."
"She's a liar!"
Fidell scrambled off the bed, approaching her. They had only been married for a day, and here they were, embroiled in an argument on their second morning. It was all Elaina's fault. Determined not to let his honeymoon be ruined, he wrapped his arms around her.
"Don't be angry, darling. Believe me. We have nothing to do with each other anymore."
Ivanka scoffed, feeling the hollow ring in his words. "Whatever you had must have been special. Otherwise, she wouldn't have stormed our wedding like that."
"It wasn't special-she's just insane. What sane girl humiliates herself like that? Please, just trust me."
Fidell stroked her back, kissing her shoulder. He cursed Elaina inwardly for the minefield she had laid for him. Since last night, he had been bombarded with questions from his parents, his in-laws, and now his wife. Everyone was interrogating him about Elaina.
The whole ordeal had left him fuming. He had been questioning his friends one by one, trying to find out who gave her an invitation. No one had confessed. It remained a frustrating mystery.
"Fidell, if you want this to go away, you need to handle that girl," Ivanka said sharply.
Fidell nodded, kissing her neck. "I will. I'll settle it. No one is going to ruin our marriage."
"Good." Ivanka guided his hand toward her and spoke with a sharp edge. "Now, what about this? I'm still waiting to be satisfied."
Fidell smirked, pulling her robe open. He knelt before her, lifting one of her thighs over his shoulder. "Let me take care of it."
Ivanka leaned against the wall, trying to find pleasure in his touch. It wasn't great, but it would have to do for today. It seemed Fidell simply wasn't born to be a great lover. She realized she had expected far too much. As he worked, she let out a sigh. She wanted to be thrown onto the bed and taken properly, but she knew her husband had no strength left.
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, while below her, Fidell worked harder, oblivious to her true frustration.
Back at the penthouse, Elaina finished clearing the breakfast table. Alister stood by the espresso machine. His movements were slightly awkward-further proof that this place wasn't his. Elaina watched him, her eyes wandering over the sun-drenched room. Whoever owned this place was incredibly wealthy; the decor alone must have cost a fortune.
"Sir, what exactly do you do for a living?" Elaina asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
Alister turned, balancing two cups of espresso. Steam curled from the dark liquid as he set them on the table.
"What do you think?"
Elaina tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "This isn't your penthouse, but you live here. You use everything freely. My guess? You're someone's assistant. Or maybe a driver?"
Alister raised an eyebrow. He approached her, trapping her between his arms against the dining table. "A driver? Fine. Consider me your driver, then. From now on, I'll take you wherever you need to go. I hope you don't mind having a driver as a lover."
Elaina swallowed hard. "We aren't real lovers."
"Maybe not, but based on your answer, I'll take that as a 'yes' to my offer. We can discuss the details of your revenge later."
"I-I haven't agreed yet, Sir." Elaina bit her lip, her heart racing as Alister leaned closer. She could see his tattoos clearly now through his clothes, and she felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to touch them.
"Then I must be getting ahead of myself," Alister whispered. His hand trailed down her side. He loved the way she looked in his shirt-absolutely adorable. "Because I assumed that by sleeping in my bed on your first night here, you were officially mine."
He gripped her waist and hoisted her onto the table, capturing her lips before she could protest. He kissed her deeply, his hands sliding up her thighs. He relished the sensation of their bodies pressed together. His fingers slipped under the hem of the shirt to find her skin.
"You're tense... I'll take that as a 'yes' too."
Elaina let out a soft moan, lost in the strange, electric thrill of his touch. "Sir, I-"
"Shh. Just be quiet. I'm going to give you something to think about today."
Alister pushed the shirt up, baring her skin. He laid her back across the dining table and leaned down. Elaina gasped, her breathing turning ragged, the room filling with her uncontrolled sighs. Alister remained focused, savoring every inch of her, indifferent to the wild sounds echoing in the elegant room.
