His eyes became slits, piecing together the puzzle that was my life. “Ahhhh, did he now…?” He gave a nod before making a “tsk-tsking” sound that reminded me of an adult being disapproving of a child. “The mighty husband is here to save the day,” he murmured with utter derision. “Does he know that his beautiful, loving bride was fucking around with another man’s dick?” Taunting, he slowly made his way out, circling around his desk before half-sitting on it, arms folded and his face exhibiting great disappointment. “Marital bliss, is it all that it’s cracked up to be, Ava?”

His mockery of me was reaching my capacity. As much as I had previously endured his maltreatment, I was now endangered of snapping my overburdened patience. “Maybe you should try it yourself, Reiss, since you seem so curious about it.” It was the first time I had used his real name, and I must say that saying it aloud made me feel all the more nostalgic about the past.

He shrugged. “Marriage … I just might. If the right woman comes along, then why not?”

Lovely. Just what I needed to hear—not.

“If you’re done throwing daggers and making a mockery out of my miserable life, can we move along? I still have a lot of questions to ask of you.”

“Why, Ava? Did one of the daggers finally manage to prick your fine porcelain skin?”

Nostrils flaring, I threw my hands in the air. “You know what? I can’t bloody deal with your childish need for revenge because I have far more important things to do than listen to you rambling and spouting blasted bloody nuisance about clear pettiness and small victories.”

“You have far more important things to do,” he murmured, thinking out loud just as he made a big nod, as if the light had just turned on in his brilliant mind.

“I bloody do!” I sounded just as I truly felt, depleted after being completely, emotionally objectified by this loathsome rat.

He appeared confused, as though he couldn’t wrap his puny brain around it. “Like what?”

I wanted to hurl my purse at the blasted jerk. “You ought to be joking, surely?”

He shrugged, unperturbed. “You’re a bored housewife, and your husband just flew in to see you.” He was deep in thought. “Funny, ‘cause I have this hunch that this wasn’t a coincidence. Don’t tell me you told your loving husband that you let another man shag you senseless while he called you his whore?”

That completely broke the little patience I had left.

Like a rocket, my body shot towards him, aiming for his cheek and gloriously connecting with my palm. “I am no one’s whore, not Ashton’s and surely not yours—never yours.”

His eyes clouded with barely any of his emerald greens showing as they thunderously sliced me in to two while he brought his face a hairsbreadth away from my own. “Vicious, aren’t we today, Ava? Why so catty when I’m only speaking the truth?” he sneered as he took my breath away. “Is your memory faulty? Because, from what I can recall, you kept screaming into my ear that, in fact, you are mine to do as I please, that no man has ever made you feel the way I do when I fuck you. You sobbed the words into my ears as you begged me to come inside of you. Don’t you remember any of that?”

Images of us naked shifted my focus. Did I really say any of that? Maybe, maybe not. I mean, I was so out of it I could have prayed in French, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Confused, my rebuttal was lost as the picture of us rutting together wreaked havoc on my already confused way of thinking.

“You look lost, love. My cock must’ve done quite a splendid job, eh?” His eyes sparkled as he brazenly cupped my breast with his right hand. “If you came here for a repeat, I could grant you that wish.” The sensation he was making was muddying my common sense while his other hand reached down to gently rub my pussy with his fingers against the soft fabric of my jeans. “So sensual … so beautiful … especially when aroused.” His eyes lingered on my face, almost cherishing it. Almost. “Your body begs for my touch. It’s hungry for it.”

He was so wrong yet so bloody right about me always being hungry for him. I hated how he could mesmerize me without effort. Even though I had protested before, my body was eternally enslaved to him, much to my disdain.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasped out, hungry eyes adamant to devour me. “Do you want my cock to fuck you mad, princess?”

Princess, it was his terms of endearment for me, and the first time he had said it since we had met again after a decade.

When nostalgia hit you, it hit like it was hounding you to the grave. There was no escaping it.

Chapter 17

Ava

I was his and I acknowledged this with heartfelt concern, seeing as the man in question had inevitably changed from the sweet, loving guy I once had known to a man who had a heart of stone. With his persistence of wanting me to submit to him, it would’ve been easy to just throw caution to the wind and succumb to what my body had been longing. I knew I must resist, though, at least in respect of Ashton being in England.

I must fight his charms until divorce proceedings were initiated.

“Ashton’s here—I can’t … I’m sorry,” I regrettably rejected his advances, knowing it would truly disrespect Ashton and what I had vowed to protect. It was hypocritical of me to even contend such notions, but one sin committed was enough to weigh heavily on my shoulders while negotiating for my freedom.

My husband, knowing him well enough, wouldn’t easily let this go. He’d fight for me—I knew he would. He was simply wired that way. Even back then, when he learned I had taken another man and had given him a gift that was meant for him, he hadn’t batted an eyelash before telling me we were still meant for each other. I highly doubted his reaction would be any different than it had been a decade ago.

Reiss’s face darkened as he studied me in depth. “Did you let him touch you? Is that why you’re saying no?” Though it came out as a question, it sounded more like an accusation than anything.

Did I let Ashton, my husband, touch me? Apart from the insult that he was hurling at me, I was even more offended that he had the audacity in asking me the damn question.

As much as I wanted to hurt him for what he had done to me—walking out after he had used my body just to make a point—my past mistakes had hurt him. The thought cleared my senses, making me almost subdued.

“No, I wouldn’t disrespect you both that way. It’s callous of you to ask me that question, but no, I would never do such a thing—not even if I wanted to hurt you, Reiss.” My honest response almost shocked me. The old Ava would’ve basked in feeling victorious after lashing out in such a manner. I suppose one could truly say that the mistakes in the past had taught me well. They had taught me not to mess with something you couldn’t control, most especially when it came to him. I would never make that mistake again.




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