Chapter 90
Grace's POV
Back at my apartment, Alex finally let his carefully maintained facade drop. He sank onto my couch, looking genuinely exhausted. He'd barely touched his food during the evening's events.
I changed into comfortable loungewear and headed to the kitchen. "You must be starving. Let me make you some pasta."
I deliberately kept my tone light and cheerful. "Don't underestimate simple spaghetti—my cooking is better than all that fancy French cuisine at the party."
My playful boasting succeeded in lifting the heavy atmosphere. Alex came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. His warm breath tickled my neck, making me shiver slightly.
"Mmm, I believe you," he murmured against my skin.
I started to turn toward the stove to grab ingredients, but Alex's arms didn't loosen their hold.
His voice was low, almost vulnerable. "Grace, you'll stay with me forever, absolutely never leave again, right?"
I twisted in his arms to look at him, surprised by the question. "Why would you ask that? We're engaged. If I don't spend my life with you, what else would I do?"
Alex buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice muffled. "Good."
He's more fragile than his cold exterior suggests. Growing up in a family that prioritized interests over emotions must have left him starved for genuine connection, unable to trust in real feelings.
The man I chose—I'll have to take care of him myself.
---
I prepared a large bowl of seafood pasta—mussels, shrimp, squid rings, garnished with fresh basil leaves.
We sat at my small dining table, sharing the single bowl, our forks occasionally clinking together. Alex even drank the broth completely, which made me feel somewhat proud.
"See? I told you it was delicious," I said with satisfaction.
Alex smiled—a real smile, not his usual polite mask. "Yes, very delicious."
He probably rarely eats in a family atmosphere, more often at business dinners.
---
Deep into the night, I lay in bed tossing and turning. Too much had happened today—I needed time to process it all.
Suddenly, I felt the mattress dip behind me as Alex slipped into bed, pulling me against his chest.
"Alex, thank you for defending me tonight, for standing up to your father like that... I know that wasn't easy for you."
Alex was quiet for a moment, then tightened his arms around me, pulling me more securely against him.
"Don't thank me," his voice was slightly hoarse. "But tonight... I felt really uncomfortable inside."
I could feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, his breathing irregular with suppressed emotion.
My heart sank slightly. "Because of me?"
His voice grew even deeper. "Thinking about you being deceived by that bastard for so long, and I wasn't there to protect you... it makes me angry. I wish I could erase that time from your life, or that I'd met you earlier."
I tried to comfort him. "That's all in the past. I have you now, don't I?"
"Past doesn't mean it didn't happen... I hurt for you."
Those last three words were spoken slowly, heavily, as if each one was being dragged from the depths of his chest.
My heart filled with a bittersweet, burning emotion. I'd never expected that after hearing my past, Alex's response wouldn't be judgment or reservation, but pure, simple heartache for what I'd endured.
I turned in his arms, seeing his eyes gleaming softly with gentle warmth—those usually cold blue eyes now radiating tender care.
I leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth softly. "It's all over, truly. Those bad experiences... maybe they were just preparing me to better appreciate what I have now... to appreciate you."
My voice carried a slight tremor, but it was filled with sincerity.
Alex looked down at me, his eyes churning with deep emotion.
His voice was rough with feeling. "That's not enough. Just appreciating isn't enough—I want to give you back everything you missed, with interest."
His warm palm cupped my cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the moisture at the corner of my eye, as if trying to wipe away all the shadows that remained in my heart.
I lifted my face, and Alex's kiss naturally descended. Unlike our previous polite, ceremonial kisses, this one carried an almost reverent possessiveness, yet he carefully controlled his strength.
No longer just a gentle touch, but a deep, lingering claim on my breath.
I was kissed breathless, my mind going blank, only able to respond instinctively, unconsciously clutching the fabric of his sleep shirt.
Alex's arms tightened around me, as if trying to merge me into his very body.
The kiss lasted until we were both gasping for air.
Alex's breathing was rapid and heavy, his forehead pressed against mine, his blue eyes burning with barely suppressed desire. His fingers explored tentatively below, his voice husky as he asked, "May I, Grace?"
My heart hammered against my ribs, my cheeks flushed, feeling the heat radiating from his palms. I didn't speak, only nodded slightly, my eyes showing trust mixed with shy anticipation, then leaned closer, my lips touching his again in silent permission.
Alex could no longer restrain himself. With a low growl, he deepened the kiss, his tongue boldly exploring my mouth, claiming my breath. His hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer with force, our bodies pressed together through thin sleepwear, our temperatures rising rapidly.
I gasped softly in response, my arms circling his neck, my fingers unconsciously tangling in his hair. My body trembled slightly under his touch as I felt his large hands roaming my back, finally settling on my hips with a gentle squeeze that made me cry out softly.
Alex's kisses moved from my lips to my neck, his heated breath washing over my skin as his teeth grazed my collarbone, leaving faint red marks. His hands slipped under my sleepwear, caressing my smooth skin, his fingertips tracing my waist and sending waves of shivers through me.
I bit my lower lip, trying to suppress the soft moans in my throat, but my body's instinctive responses betrayed me. I felt his fingers gradually moving upward, unbuttoning my sleepwear to reveal my pale shoulders and the curves of my chest. Alex's gaze darkened almost to the point of consuming me as he lowered his head to kiss my shoulder, his lips trailing downward with reverent possession.
"You're so beautiful, Grace..." he murmured hoarsely, his voice rough as if scraped from his throat. My hands gripped his shoulders as my body involuntarily pressed closer, responding to his passion.
Alex quickly removed his own sleep shirt, revealing his solid chest and taut muscle lines. He pressed me beneath him, his hands braced on either side of me, his gaze locked on mine with primal desire. "Tell me if you're uncomfortable, and I'll stop immediately."
I nodded breathlessly, my voice barely a whisper: "I trust you..." Those words were like lighting the final fuse, and Alex held back no longer, his hands roaming my body, gradually removing my last barriers.
Our bodies intertwined in the moonlight, our breathing and soft moans weaving together. Though Alex's movements carried urgency, he remained attentive to my reactions, each advance marked by careful exploration and confirmation. I bit my lip tightly, my hands clutching the sheets, my body rising and falling with his rhythm, gradually losing myself in this intimate connection.
He spread my legs, his cock hard and throbbing as he positioned himself. "You ready for this, baby?" he growled, and I could only nod, my pussy already wet and aching for him. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he filled me, stretching me open, making me gasp and moan.
The room stank of sex, sweat, and heat as we fucked, time stopping in the haze of it all. Alex pounded into me, each thrust harder, deeper, but he kept checking my face, making sure I was okay, even as he claimed every inch of me. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, my nails digging into his back as I screamed his name, lost in the brutal rhythm of our bodies slamming together.
Every goddamn move screamed how much we wanted each other, how much we fucking needed this, until we both shattered, cumming hard, my pussy clenching around him as he groaned and spilled inside me, our bodies trembling in the messy, perfect aftermath.