Chapter 40: Return Fire

Selene

We spend the entire weekend seeing different sites including the opera . And after we spend it experimenting with different toys and props . John is the ever willing partner and subject . We push each others boundaries and can’t keep our hands off each other . We constantly exchange power dynamics.

Finally Monday morning rolls around. We eat breakfast tucked into a sun-drenched corner of the enormous dinning room. I’m in one of John’s crisp white shirts and nothing else, curled against the leather bench with coffee in my hands and his thigh against mine.

He watches me like he wants to memorize the curve of my lips.

“You sure you don’t want me to fly with you?” he asks, reaching for my hand.

I smile, but it doesn’t reach all the way to my eyes . “I need space to think.” I tell him honestly. “ I also need to see Adrian and sort this mess out with him.”

He nods, slow and solemn. Then leans in and kisses me with that deep, consuming softness that always feels like the first time.

At the airport, he takes my suitcase from the trunk and sets it gently on the curb and signals a porter to collect it. . He brushes a kiss across my temple.

“I meant what I said. Whatever you decide—I’ll be waiting.”

I board the flight with a hollow ache in my ribs and two men warring behind my ribs.

The Denver sky is clear when I land.

It feels too calm for the storm that’s brewing inside me.

By the time I reach my apartment building, I’m exhausted. My heels click against the stairs as I unlock the door—only to stop cold.

Roses.

Dozens.

No—hundreds. Lush, deep red, the kind of red that says it all . They’re in tall crystal vases, the scent filling the entire front hall .

I step inside slowly, stunned. There’s a black envelope on the console table.

I love you. I’m coming home. – A

The door creaks behind me—and then I hear the footsteps.

I turn.

It Adrian.

He’s standing in the open doorway, arms full of another bouquet.

He freezes when our eyes meet.

“I was just—delivering the last ones.”

I stare at him, breath caught in my chest.

He sets the bouquet down carefully. Steps forward.

“You came,” I whisper softly.

“I told you I would.” He’s still watching me like I might bolt. “You look…”

“Don’t,” I say.. “Just come in.”

He walks slowly, cautiously, until he’s standing in front of me, inches away.

“I need to tell you what happened,” he says. “All of it.”

I nod once, and lead the way to my lounge, we sit on the couch too not close to each other .

He pulls out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and lays it on the coffee table. “Here is the Toxicology report. It’s called Midazolam. Bianca drugged me. That video? It’s not what it looks like. I don’t even remember getting into bed with Bianca… she planned it all.”

My stomach turns.

He leans forward, voice tight. “And I’ve already requested a paternity test. I’m not playing games with this. If the baby’s mine, I’ll take care of it and sue for joint custody. But I won’t let her manipulate my life or us .”

I believe him.

I hate that I do—but I do.

“What about how you took off without looking back ? I know that you have to be there , but I won’t be the woman sitting around constantly waiting for you.” I tell him.

“Selene , I was nervous and had just found out about the baby. I was a mess , there’s no excuse for how I treated you, but it won't happen again. You are everything to me.”

I take a breath, heart hammering in my ears. “There’s something I have to tell you, too.”

His jaw tightens, but he nods. “Okay.”

“I’ve been with John. While I was in Newyork. I didn’t plan it. But it happened. And I feel things—for him. And for you.” I swallow. “I want you both like I’ve never wanted anyone before.”

Adrian’s expression flickers—pain, anger, fire.

Then he’s on me.

His hands tangle in my hair as his mouth crashes into mine, urgent, rough, desperate. The kiss is molten. Punishing. Like he’s trying to erase the taste of John from my lips.

And God help me, I kiss him back.

We crash into each other like we’re starving for each other. His hands tear at my clothes. I tug his shirt over his head, nails raking down his chest.

He lifts me into his arms, carries me to the bedroom, and tosses me onto the bed like he owns it—and me, in an instant he is between my thighs his mouth and tongue working my pussy . Only when I’m moaning and gasping his name does he move up my body.

“Tell me again,” he growls as he rips off the rest of my clothes. “Say you want him. While I’m inside you.”

I gasp as he slides into me in one hard thrust, burying himself deep inside me.

“Say it,” he demands, lips at my neck, hands gripping my thighs.

“I want—fuck—I want you both.”

He groans like the words split him open and starts thrusting hard, deep, relentless.

It’s not sweet.

It’s a battle.

His mouth is everywhere—my collarbone, my breasts, my lips, his hands anchoring me as he pounds into me like he’s trying to stake his claim.

“You’re mine,” he rasps.

“I’m am ,” I gasp, even as my body trembles beneath him. “But Not only yours.”

He growls, slamming deeper, faster.

I arch. Moaning loudly and breaking at the same time.

And when I come—shaking, breathless—it’s with his name in my mouth.

But I can’t lie.

It’s not the only name on my mind.

Adrian follows immediately and after a bit he rolls onto his back and pulls me against him .