Chapter 87 – Pleasing the Boss

God, he feels so…right.

Not just physically, but metaphysically. The idea of him is right, in a way that me and Elvis never were. Us together feels natural, like every other thing that pairs in nature. Magnets and iron. Clownfish and anemones. Oysters and pearls. Everything else is just noise, isn’t it?

Or it’s just sex. Really good sex.

But sex has never been like this with anyone else. Not even with Elvis in the beginning, when it was especially clear that was all there was bet**en us. Or am I misremembering? Rewriting my past with the knowledge of the present.

It’s too big of an idea to explore while I’m getting railed against my best friend’s footboard.

“You feel so good, Brystin,” Hadrian says, his voice gravelly. “f**k, you feel so good. But this is a punishment.”

For running away, I’m guessing. I suppose it’s deserved, though I wouldn’t quite call this a punishment.

Then he slaps his free hand against my hip—several times—and tightens the p**ssure on my windpipe, and okay. I see. My breaths are ragged, and my skin is stinging, and somewhere in my head I’m conscious that the smacks are likely loud enough to be heard in the next room, but all I can think is yes, punish me.

But then I remember I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad at him. “What about your punishment?”

He shakes his head, dismissing the question. Then he speeds up his th**sts and moves his hand from my hip to my c**t, where he massages me with precise strokes that instantly take me to orgasm.

When I cry out, unable to control myself, Hadrian stops th**sting and pushes my face into his ch*st, letting his shirt absorb my sounds. I cling to him, shaking as the pleasure spreads through my limbs. Adrenaline fires in my brain, and the headache I’ve had for the past two hours disappears like magic.

As soon as I’m through it, Hadrian pulls out and steps back. “It was my punishment,” he says.

It takes me a second to understand, and when I do, I’m annoyed.

I close the gap bet**en us and wr*p my hand around his sex-coated c**k and pump up and down quickly. “You don’t get to choose your own punishment, assHadrian.”

Though, he’d done a good job at getting himself right to the edge, because it’s only a few pumps before he starts the low grunting sound he makes when he’s about to come. Suddenly mindful that I don’t want to deal with evidence of this encounter, I fall to my knees and wr*p my l*ps around him, just in time to swallow.

I peer up at him as he unloads, marveling at how magnificent he looks like this, feeling quite humbled to be someone who gets to see this side of him. It makes me feel as warm and funny as any orgasm does.

But then he finishes, and it hits me that here I am on my knees. Again. For another man who doesn’t deserve it.

I fall back against the footboard, muttering to myself as I pull the shorts back on. “How do I let this happen?”

Hadrian zips up his pants and joins me on the floor. “I think this thing bet**en me and you is bigger than us both.”

“You feel out of control too?”

He nods as he reaches his arm out around me.

I let him pull me into his ch*st. “This doesn’t change anything, Hadrian.”

“It wasn’t supposed to. But we both know the sexual tension is distracting. Now we can talk with it out of the way. Better hurry though, cuz you know how fast it builds again.”

I chuckle into his shirt.

Despite saying we needed to talk, we’re quiet for several minutes. I’m still getting my head together after the orgasm, and I assume he is as well. In the silence, I can hear his heart thudding. I swear I can hear it calling to be mine. Shiloh says I should make him give me stuff, but that’s the only thing I want. Would he ever truly give it to me?

After a while, I pull away, too lulled by the intimacy of being held to be able to have any sort of meaningful conversation. “I think I need a little space bet**en us.”

I stand and climb on the bed, resting my back against the headboard.

Hadrian stands as well, then comes to kneel on the floor beside me. “Is this far enough?”

“It’s fine.” He looks good on his knees, for a change, honestly. “Look, Hadrian—”

“Brystin,” he says, and I’m not quite sure if he’s cutting me off or if he started talking at the same time I did, but he’s the one who goes on talking. “I know it’s not enough to say I f**ked up or to tell you that I love you—which I do.”

My stupid f**king heart does a cartwheel.

“I know you need me to prove it to you.”

I bite my l*p, not trusting myself to speak, and nod.

“I’m going to prove it to you, then. Okay? You ready?”

A laugh sl*ps out. That f**ker.

“I’m ready.” And I mean, really ready. Ready like I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone to prove they loved me in the way I need to be loved. In the way I love in return.

He lifts up one leg so now he’s only on one knee. “Marry me.”

I sit forward, sure I heard wrong. “What?”

“Marry me.”

“I’m…” I’m overwhelmed, is what I am. “I’m still married! We just… You and I barely…” The excuses are all there, and I mean each and every one of them, but it’s so hard to voice them when my heart is running in the other direction, ready to shout to all the world that Hadrian Seymour wants to marry me. Like, for real marry me.

“I know,” Hadrian says, as though he can truly read my unfinished thoughts. “I know it’s fast, and it’s crazy, but I also know it’s right, and I mean it, and we don’t have to make anything official right away. We can take our time until we get to the church.”

He wants to get married in a church!

“But this proves it, Brystin. Proves that you changed me. I was never going to marry anyone. Ever. I was never going to fall in love, and you’ve. You’ve changed everything for me.”

“Hadrian…” I don’t know what to say. It’s so fast, and so sudden, and I feel like I’m on one of those amusement rides that jerks back and forth, giving you whiplash. “I’m…”

“Think about it.” He’s back on both knees now, and he takes my hand bet**en his. “It makes sense. We make sense. It’s the perfect solution. And can you imagine the ratings?”

“The ratings?” Just like that, I’m ejected from the ride, and tumbling to a hard fall. “The show ratings?”

“People were so into it when they thought we were dating…” He seems to realize he’s made a wrong turn. “That’s not why I want to marry you. It’s not. Just an added benefit, which will be a win for both of us because we’ll have time to focus on you and me when I don’t have my father breathing down my neck.”

Stunned, I pull my hand away. “What? No.”

Shit, did I really just say that?

“No?” he asks.

It appears I really did say that. “Yeah, no.” I scramble around him so I can get off the bed, needing some distance. “No. No. No, I’m not doing this. Again. No.”

“No,” Hadrian repeats, his tone dejected.

But f**k him, he doesn’t get to be dejected. This is madness. This is f**ked-up insanity. I’m the one wronged, and he wants me to coddle him, when his solution is just more of the same?

No.

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