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"Oh God," I gasp, my head dropping back against the pillow. "Yes. Fuck yes."

He exhales as he slides deeper, his hands gripping my thighs so hard I think he might leave bruises. I want them, those marks that will remind me how badly Xavier Romano wants me. I'm so wet that I'm dripping, making the way slick as he pushes in.

It's not enough. It's too much, too overwhelming to see this gorgeous, commanding man taking his time with me, whispering hot words of encouragement with each inch I take. It's too intimate, too much likewhat we're doing is real. But it's not. I know that. We both do. This is just a mutually beneficial arrangement, no matter how good he feels inside me.

My legs are trembling by the time he's fully seated, stretched and aching around him. Xavier pulls back and thrusts in again, deeper and harder than before. My fingers scrabble at his back, looking for something to hold on to, and he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head.

"Fuck," I curse, trying to twist my hips into him. "I need?—"

"You need me to fuck you," he growls in my ear. "Say it."

"God, please fuck me, Xavier."

The words are barely out of my mouth when he starts moving, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back inside. My eyes roll back in my head, my nails digging into his biceps as I struggle to hang on.

It's not enough for him, though, and he pulls out completely, flipping me over onto my stomach. I get up on my hands and knees and look back at him, trying to keep the vulnerability off my face. I trust him fully, but I just don't trust my heart right now.

Xavier steadies himself behind me, his big hands wrapping around my waist. He lines himself up and pushes inside again, bottoming out in one thrust.

I'm gasping for breath, gripping the sheets hard in my fists as he starts fucking me faster, his hips slamming against my ass with every stroke. One hand slides up my back, grabbing a handful of my hair and using it to pull me up until my back is flush with his chest. He wraps one arm around me, holding me tight, and his teeth sink into the side of my neck, pleasure and pain mixing deliciously.

"Oh God," I breathe, tipping my head back against his shoulder. "I'm so close."

"I can feel you squeezing me," he growls in my ear. "You're gonna come all over my cock, aren't you?"

My pussy clenches around him, and I let out a noise that sounds desperate and needy, even to my ears.

"Answer me," he commands, his fingers tightening in my hair. "Say it, Maria."

"Yes!" I gasp, trying to push back against him. I see stars when he lets go of my hair and reaches between my legs, rubbing his thumb over my clit in fast circles. “Fuck, please just make me come."

He growls, pulling me back onto him harder and deeper until the tension snaps, and I fall apart beneath him with a scream. My pussy spasms around him, milking his cock, and I swear I black out for a second as he continues to fuck me through it. Wave after wave of earth-shattering pleasure rolls over me, and if it weren't for his strong arms holding me up, I'd be nothing but a puddle on the bed.

Xavier holds off until I start to come down from my high, and now he's seeking his own. His strokes get harder, faster, and all I can do is hang on. When his thrusts go unsteady, Xavier turns my chin and locks his mouth over mine, tongue pressing between my lips as he groans and comes inside me in a hot gush. I'm not sure I've ever felt so full, so claimed, and the feeling is more overwhelming than I expected.

When we're both spent, he collapses next to me on the bed, breathing hard and staring at the ceiling. I'm completely exhausted, but I also don't want to move. I'm hyper aware that this is my husband next to me, my husband who just fucked me so well I don’t dare try and use my legs. And now that we're both coming back to the real world, I'm not sure what to do next.

"Come here," he rumbles, breaking me out of my spiraling thoughts. I wasn't sure if he wanted to cuddle, knowing that this is temporary, but my heart still soars when he motions me over. My body fitsagainst his perfectly, my head pillowed on his shoulder, and he slides his arm around me. It feels so good to be close like this that I have to force myself not to melt into him completely.

"Sleep if you need to," he tells me, pressing his lips to my temple. "We've got time."

As I drift off, his words comfort me, even if I don't totally believe them.

The restof the weekend is glorious. When I'm not coming so hard I can barely form words, I'm floating on cloud nine, falling for my husband at warp speed. For a blissful few days, I think maybe this arranged marriage is fate, a way to bring Xavier and me together, but the bubble of that fantasy pops the morning we're due to head home.

It all comes crashing down when I offhandedly mention how beautiful I find the ocean-colored paint accents in our suite, and Xavier responds with, "Well, you'll have an entire wing of the estate to yourself until the marriage is over. Go ahead and paint your room like this while you're there. Something to remember me by."

I know it's a joke, something meant to be lighthearted and flirtatious, but I feel like I've been slapped. It's a reminder of our situation, of why we married in the first place. I was so sure Xavier cared about me. I felt it in his touch, heard it in the dark, sensual things he'd say when we fucked. But I guess I'm still a pawn, nothing more than a tool to fulfill his father's wish to see his son married before he died.

Maybe I'd been stupid enough to forget that we'd be done with each other when we got home, but apparently it never left Xavier's mind.

I duck my head and dash tears from my eyes before he can notice what his words have done to me. "Yeah. To remember you by. Sure."

6

XAVIER

By the last day of our honeymoon, I'm sure I could have booked the weekend at a hotel down the road from my home and barely noticed the difference.

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