Page 41 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8
‘You didn’twantanyone else.’ He thrust into her again with a deliberately fierce impact. Daring her to deny him.
But she didn’t. She just melted. He felt the rippling wave of acceptance—her body enveloped him in a sensual heat that scorched from the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet. But his heart—his heart was eviscerated.
‘I never wanted anyone else,’ she whispered. ‘Not before. Not since.’
Not ever.
She didn’t say those last words but he heard them—felt them—as if she’d screamed them. His damned imagination fed him a fantasy. He kissed her. Silencing himself. Taking control. Because now he regretted asking. Now hewanted...the impossible. He could not do anything with this. All he could do was hold her now. Drive closer now. As close as he could—over and over—until in the fiery fury of his desperation she came. Her cry pierced his heart. Her violent convulsions of pleasure almost milked his.
He growled—pulling out enough to retain control. Because he was not done yet. This night could never be over so quick.
Not when it was all he had left.
Chapter Eleven
Ares glared outof the window, ignoring the calming tea cooling on the table behind him. He counted but it was an exercise in pure futility. The pain in his chest hadn’t just returned, but was bigger than ever. Once more he regulated his breathing, trying to loosen the crushed sensation, yet the vice-like grip beneath his ribs only tightened. It didn’t matter if he counted to four or forty. This was different—not a stress attack from too much coffee and too many hours of work. This was sheerdread. He never should have touched her again.
I’ve only ever had you.
Possessive triumph raged through his blood as her broken admission echoed in his brain—a satisfaction he had no right to feel. Because the flip side hit less than a second later—a burning devastation that smacked him down.Whyhadn’t she met someone else? Hell, he almost wished she had. Because now he knew she didn’t understand the reality—that by staying with him, she was acceptinglessthan what she could have had. Now he realised that her choice this week—to let him in again—hadn’t been aninformeddecision. He’d thought she’d lived a little more of life and, sure, in several ways she had. She’d held her own with the elite at last night’s party and he knew she would thrive—beautifully—in any kind of society now. Not because she was in any way better than before. She was as kind and as strong and as wonderful—it was simply that she actually believed it now.
She was so much more confident than when they’d first met. Since then she’d grieved for her grandmother, found a new family of friends and built a career she loved... Theproblemwas she was still naïve when it came to men. To relationships. Tohim. He’d never beenfullyhonest with her. He’d never admitted his limitations—while she’d bloomed, he still lacked. And for all her flourishing, she’d not learned whatmoreshe might have from someone else so she hadn’t consciouslychosenthe less he offered. And the fact was, he could never be all she really wanted or needed.
The first time round he’d assumed he could be fairly absent and it wouldn’t matter. She would live on the island where she’d been vibrantly happy. He could keep her—and any children—safely away from his family of vipers. He’d go at weekends so he’d be close enough but not too intimate. Good sex but minimal emotional impact. He’d thought that it could stay light and easy. She would have a warm home with space for her art where she could love her children and teach them to sail...
But her doubts were raised the second she’d heard Gia’s ludicrous suggestion that he’d only married her to avoid the pressure to marry Sophia. Or maybe she’d already had doubts, given she’d barely trusted him enough to ask for his side of the story—rather she’d asked only the one direct question.
Do you love me?
The stark misery in her eyes had savaged him. Already twisted up by being at the damned compound, by his cousins’ watchfulness and Gia’s stupid games, he’d not been able to answer. Certainly not the way she’d wanted. And because she was stronger than he’d realised then, she’d run. She’d been right to.
She was even stronger now. That meant she would fight him today. It was also why he had to win. Because his wife deserved to be with someone who offered more than money and nice houses and good sex only at the weekends. He’d not realised how badly the prospect of his absence had hurt her. But now he understood that she’d grown up with her father often away and she didn’t want that for herself again. Or for her children. Bethan today wouldn’t just ask for more, she woulddemandit. As she should. But that ‘more’ was something he couldn’t ever give.
And even if she chose to stay now, ultimately she would leave again. Again, as she should. But he wouldn’t survive losing her then.
Only now could he admit to himself how bad it had been last time. He’d buried his anger in ice but with her coming back this week, it had melted. At its core was pure pain from her absolute rejection that day. And it was still raw. He’d failed his mother and couldn’t ever make it right. He couldn’t fail Bethan again. Certainly never any children. He couldn’t hurtherchildren in that way. He wasn’t emotionally equipped to be what they needed. So he needed to follow through on his promise now.
He needed space. He needed to be alone. He would be again.
Bethan paused in the doorway of the lounge and braced. Ares stood stiffly by the window, framed by the brilliant blue sky, his dark three-piece suit a masterclass in formality. He didn’t just have those metaphorical walls up, he was in full armour.
‘I’ve filed the paperwork and made my declaration,’ he said the second he turned and saw her. ‘Theo will take you to your lawyer and then to make your filing. He’ll then take you to the airport.’
Bethan breathed through the impact of verbal hit after hit. She’d known he could be ruthless but she’d not expected him to be quitethiscold. Not after last night. It hadn’t just been amazing, surely it had changed everything?
No. He still wanted to end their marriage. Still wanted her toleave. He didn’t want her in his life long-term. How was that possible when last night—when this whole week—they’dshared—so much more than their bodies? When she’d fallen for him all over again only even deeper this time because this time they’d truly talked and now she understood—?
‘This is what’s best for you, Bethan.’
‘No, this is whatyouwant,’ she flared at his patronising tone.
She didn’t believe him. Shecouldn’t—
‘I need to go.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I have meetings.’
So he could spare only a few seconds to slice her from his life? Was he really going to leave without talking this through? He’d just made a stupid snap decision and now they both had to live with it?
She refused to move, suddenly realising that was whatshe’ddone last time. She’d flipped out and walked. Was this payback for her doing that? Or was talking more pointless because he really didn’t care?
