Page 179 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

Each thrust unravels me further. We’re locked in a primal dance of skin and sweat and shared rhythm. The air fills with the wet, rhythmic slapping of flesh upon flesh, and his guttural groans melting into my keening cries and panting breaths.

Slap... slap... slap...

His cadence quickens.

“Yes...Dom...yes,” I pant, the plea tearing free as pleasure coils low in my belly. His mouth crashes onto mine, swallowing my moans, his tongue tangling with my own.

Every nerve hums, feels electric, alive.

“I feel how perfect you are,” he rasps, his palm sliding between us to circle my clit. “Cum for me,mio cuore. My heart. I want to watch you fly.”

The pressure snaps. “I’m...oh God, I’m...” My climax rips through me, violent and radiant. I shatter with his name on my lips, my walls clenching around him as stars burst behind my eyelids. “Dom!”

He follows with a ragged cry, spilling into me, his hips stuttering as he rides the waves. Heat floods my core, and I cling to him, trembling. His pulse is wild against my palm, his breath hot in my hair.

Afterward, he collapses beside me, dragging me into the warmth of his chest.

“Ti amo,” he whispers, kissing my forehead. “More than anything. I love you.”

I trace the scar on his side, our legs still tangled. He doesn’t flinch this time.

“I know,” I say softly. I can hear the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, strong and sure. “Ti amo, too.” I giggle. “Did I say that right? My Italian is so rusty...”

“Perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Stay. Not just tonight. Always.”

I prop myself up on an elbow to look at him. “Are you asking me to move in with you again?”

“I’m asking you to be mywife.” His smile is soft, playful. “For real this time. No contract, no expiration date. No ticking clock.”

I laugh, giddy with happiness and the absurdity of our situation. “We’re already married, remember? Vegas? Elvis?”

“Thenstaymarried to me,” he says, suddenly serious. “Tear up the annulment papers. Build a life with me.”

I study his face. This man who has hurt me deeply but is now offering me his heart without reservation. This man who fought for me, literally and figuratively. This man who’s changing, growing, healing.

“Yes,” I tell him, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders as I make my choice. “On one condition.”

His eyebrow arches. “Name it.”

“No more secrets. No more pushing me away when things get hard.”

“Deal.” He seals his promise with a kiss. “Anything else?”

I curl back against his chest, smiling. “Maybe a real honeymoon this time? I hear Costa Rica is lovely.”

His laughter rumbles beneath my ear, and I close my eyes, savoring the sound and the warmth of his arms around me.

Epilogue

Tatiana

Six months later

Istep out onto the balcony of Dom’s penthouse,ourpenthouse, and breathe in the crisp evening air. New York City sparkles beneath us, a galaxy of lights rivaling the stars.

Six months ago, I never would have imagined standing here, not as a temporary wife bound by contract, but as a woman who chose this life.

Who chosehim.

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