Page 91 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

“Start,” is all I can manage.

He does, withdrawing almost completely before driving back in with a force that makes me cry out. His pace is deliberate, controlled, each thrust calculated for maximum impact. I dig my nails into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor me as pleasure builds with shocking speed.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, voice strained. “When you came to my office tonight?”

“No,” I gasp as he hits a spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. “But I’ll... take it!”

He laughs, the sound tight with restraint. “You certainly will.”

I want to give him some witty retort, but all I can do is hold on as he increases his pace, driving into me with a ferocity that borders on desperation.

The buildup is swift, unstoppable, like a wave gathering force. When it hits, it crashes through me with stunning intensity, tearing a scream from my throat that would be embarrassing if I had any capacity for embarrassment left.

“DOMINIC!”

Dom follows moments later, his rhythm faltering as he presses deep and shudders against me, my name on his lips like a prayer.

“Tatiana...”

For long moments afterward, we just breathe together, his weight a comforting pressure, my legs still wrapped loosely around him. I never want to move, never want this moment to end, because the minute it does, reality will come crashing back in.

Eventually, he shifts to the side, disposing of the condom before pulling me against his chest. The tenderness of the gesture makes my throat tight.

“That was...” he trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Yeah,” I agree, because what else is there to say? No adjective seems adequate.

We lie in silence for a while, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my bare shoulder. I’m hyperaware of the ticking clock, both literally and figuratively. The digital display on his nightstand reads 12:26 AM. Another day down. Nine left.

“My brother showed up at the investor lunch,” he says suddenly, his voice quiet in the darkness.

I freeze, surprised by the voluntary information. “What?”

“Nico. He’s... troubled. Has been since we were teenagers.” The words come haltingly, like each one costs him. “He claimed I stole the resort concept from him. Made a scene.”

I prop myself up on one elbow to see his face better. “So did you? Steal the concept?”

“No!” he says. “Of course not. We might have had a brainstorming session on sustainable resorts years ago, but he has no claim on Serenity Shores whatsoever.”

I nod slowly. “So that’s what Mr. Chung meant by ‘familial issues...’”

Dom nods, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Nico and I have a complicated relationship.” His voice cracks slightly on the last words.

I want to press for details, to understand this glimpse of vulnerability, but instinct tells me not to push. Not now, when he’s finally offering something real.

I lay my head back on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Thank you for telling me.”

His arm tightens around me slightly. “Don’t thank me. I should have told you sooner. It affects the deal.”

And just like that, we’re back to business. The brief window of genuine connection closes as quickly as it opened.

“Right,” I say, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. “The deal.”

“Tatiana—” he starts, then stops. “This was... it was good.”

I almost laugh at the inadequacy of the word. “It was.”

“An extension of the Climax Clause,” he adds, and even though his tone is light, even joking, the words land like a slap.

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