Page 18 of Entrapped
“I need a shower,” he called from the closet, his tone weary.
As I fluffed up my pillows, something small and metallic caught my eye. A key, lying on the colorful area rug, as if it had fallen from Colson’s pocket. Curiosity flared in my chest. The key was delicate and didn’t look like it belonged to any ordinary lock—this one was special. I picked it up, the cool metal pressing against my palm, and slipped it into my nightstand drawer just as I heard the glass shower door clank shut.
I returned to writing on the pad, trying to focus on the task at hand. But my mind was elsewhere, turning over the possibilities of what that key might unlock. Whatever it was, I intended to find out.
A few minutes later, Colson emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, water droplets still clinging to his skin. His body, chiseled and powerful, was a sight to behold, and I quickly averted my gaze as he ran his fingers through his thick hair.
“I enjoyed this afternoon,” he said, his voice softening as he approached the bed. “You really know how to ease my stress.”
I fought the wave of conflicting emotions that surged within me. Despite everything he’d done, despite the dark cloud of suspicion and lies that hung over our marriage, there were moments like this when I almost forgot who he really was.
“I’m glad I could oblige,” I replied, keeping my tone light.
He tossed the towel onto his desk chair and slipped into bed beside me, his eyes locked on mine as I pretended to focus on the pad.
“Can I take a peek?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
I clutched the pad to my chest, raising an eyebrow. “Do you trust me? I promise I won’t embarrass you.”
His response was a kiss to my outer thigh, his fingers tracing a path along my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “I wish I was home earlier,” he murmured, his voice laced with desire.
“I’m trying to work,” I teased, though my resolve was already weakening.
He smirked, then in a swift move, tore the pad from my hands and pulled me beneath him. His lips crashed onto mine, and despite the voice in my head warning me to stay guarded, I couldn’t help but kiss him back. For a fleeting moment, I wished our marriage wasn’t a farce, that there weren’t layers of secrets and lies between us.
Colson shoved my shirt up, his mouth latching onto my nipple while his hand explored the other. “I want to paint you white,” he growled against my skin, his breath hot.
I rolled my eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed. “That means I’ll have to shower again.”
“You’ll do it for me,” he said with a smirk, yanking at my panties. “Lift your hips, or I’ll tear these off you.”
I chuckled, placing a hand on his cheek. “Go ahead, Colson. They cost six hundred dollars. Only the finest silk covers my pussy these days.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Pussy? I’ve never heard you say that word.”
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. “How about cunt?”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, a dark hunger flashing in his eyes.
With a sharp tug, he tore my panties from my body, discarding them like they were nothing. Then, without warning, he buried his face between my thighs, his tongue delving into me with a fervor that left me gasping. His thumb found my clit, rubbing slow, tantalizing circles that had me moaning his name in no time.
“Colson,” I breathed, arching into his touch as he reached up to tweak my nipple.
My orgasm built quickly, tightening in my core, and I was on the brink of release when he suddenly pulled away. I let out a frustrated whimper, but he was already flipping me over, sliding a pillow under my belly to lift my hips.
In one fluid motion, he thrust into me, the angle perfect, hitting that sweet spot inside me that sent the fading orgasm surging back with full force. I cried out, my fingers clutching the sheets as he moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge.
The moment of release hit me like a tidal wave, my body trembling with the force of it. Colson followed shortly after, his grip on my hips tightening as he found his own release, his breathing ragged against my ear.
For a few moments, we stayed like that, tangled together in the aftermath, the room filled with nothing but the sound of our breathing. But as the haze of pleasure faded, reality came crashing back in. The key in my nightstand. The secrets he was keeping between us was like a ticking time bomb.
I rolled onto my side, away from him, pulling the sheets up around me. Colson didn’t seem to notice the shift in my mood, or if he did, he didn’t care. He simply pressed a kiss to my shoulder before settling back onto his pillow, his breathing evening out as he drifted off to sleep.
But sleep wouldn’t come for me. My mind was too busy plotting, calculating my next move. Whatever that key unlocked, I was going to find out. And when I did, Colson Ashworth would finally understand that he wasn’t the only one capable of keeping secrets.
Chapter 9
The night of the party had finally arrived, and the grand living room was buzzing with the low hum of conversations, the clink of glasses, and the gentle notes of music from the hidden speakers. I moved through the room with a practiced smile, greeting the ten couples Colson and I had invited, my eyes scanning for any signs of discomfort or dissatisfaction. Everything had to be perfect. Colson demanded it.
