Mistaken Vows, Dangerous Love

Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Cold Bed

The boardroom hallway felt like it was spinning. On the screen, a woman wept, claiming she was the real Valentina. Adrian’s grip on Nora’s back tightened like steel. He didn't panic; his face became a mask of cold calculation.

“Clear the floor, Kent. Block the press,” Adrian commanded. He looked down at Nora. Instead of letting her falter, he stepped closer, pinning her against the wall. His thumb slid across her bottom lip. Slow. Deliberate.

Nora’s breath shuddered. She should have been worried about the broadcast, but her lips parted under his touch anyway. Adrian’s eyes darkened. He leaned in, his voice a velvet whisper. “We have thirty days to make this real, Nora. I don't intend to lose my empire to a ghost.”

Then, he kissed her. His hand rested possessively against her neck, feeling the frantic jump of her pulse. Nora gripped his lapels, caught between the urge to pull away and the need to be closer. He broke the kiss a moment later, breathing hard.

“We’re leaving,” he muttered.

“Where? The press—”

“Home,” Adrian cut her off, his eyes burning. “Our bed is cold. It's time to change that.”

------------------------------

The car ride back was suffocating with unspoken tension. The moment the penthouse door clicked shut, Adrian backed her against the wall, forcing her to meet his burning gaze.

"In this house, under my name, you belong to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered, the word igniting a wild heat deep within her.

She should have laughed. Should have pushed him away. But the word belong sent a tremor through her core, something shameful and hot.

"Yes," she whispered.

He pulled back, studying her face like he was reading a contract she hadn't signed yet. Then his hand slid from her chin down her throat, fingers wrapping around her neck—not squeezing, just holding, feeling her pulse skitter beneath his palm.

"Good girl."

He kissed her. Hard. Possessive. His tongue swept into her mouth as his other hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back, taking what he wanted. Nora's knees buckled; he caught her, pressed her harder into the wall, grinding his hips against hers. She felt his c**k, thick and straining through his trousers, and a moan escaped her throat.

He broke the kiss, breathing ragged, his forehead against hers. "I've been patient. But not tonight." He pressed his thumb into her bottom lip, parting it.

Nora's hands trembled as she reached for his belt. He caught her wrists, pinned them above her head.

"Not yet. I'll tell you when you can touch me."

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her up the stairs. He kicked open the bedroom door and laid her on the bed, not gently. She sprawled across the sheets, dress bunched around her thighs, panties visible and soaked.

He stood at the foot of the bed. Slowly, deliberately, he unbuttoned his shirt, watching her. Nora watched the muscles of his chest emerge, the dark hair trailing down his stomach, the V of his hips. He was built like a weapon—hard, dangerous.

He unbuckled his belt with a metallic hiss. Let his trousers fall. His c**k sprang free, thick and flushed, the head glistening. He stroked himself once, twice, never breaking eye contact.

He f****d her mouth in slow, deep strokes, his breathing growing harsh. When he pulled out, her lips were swollen, chin slick. He knelt on the bed, spreading her thighs apart, dragging her ruined panties down her legs.

He didn't speak. He simply pushed her knees to her chest and lowered his mouth to her cunt.

Nora cried out, hands fisting in the sheets. He licked her like he owned her—broad, flat strokes of his tongue, then sharp flicks against her c**t. His fingers slid inside her, two at once, curling and pressing until she saw stars.

"Please—Adrian."

He pulled away. Looked up at her, his chin wet, eyes dark.

"Not yet. I want to feel you come around my cock."

He dragged his c**k through her folds, teasing her entrance, then pushed in—slow, inch by inch. Nora gasped, her walls clenching around him, so tight it almost hurt. He hissed through his teeth, pausing when he was fully seated.

"You're so tight," he breathed. "Has anyone ever filled you like this?"

She shook her head, unable to speak.

"Good. No one else will."

He began to move. Deep, punishing thrusts that rocked the bed, each one driving the air from her lungs. He kept a hand on her throat. Her hips bucked to meet him, desperate, her moans turning into shattered cries.

He leaned down, teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're mine. Say it."

"Yours—I'm yours—"

"Louder."

"I'm yours!"

He slammed into her, his rhythm losing its discipline, his breath ragged against her neck.

Her orgasm ripped through her, a wave of heat and light, her p***y milking him as he drove deeper. He followed a heartbeat later, a low, guttural groan as he spilled inside her, hot and thick, holding her hips flush against his.

------------------------------

Later, they lay tangled together in the dark. Adrian pulled her against his chest, his fingers stroking her hair.

"You did well, little wife," Adrian murmured.