Chapter 53

Chapter 53
Chapter 53
SOPHIA

He moved in me with desperate urgency, the desk creaking beneath us, my nails digging into his shoulders. I tried to stay quiet, tried to muffle my sounds against his neck, but when the orgasm hit me I couldn't help crying out.
Lucas followed immediately, his rhythm faltering as he buried himself deep and shuddered through his release.
We stayed like that for a moment, both panting, sweat-slicked and trembling. Then he pulled back enough to look at me, and there was something in his eyes I couldn't quite identify.
"What was that about?" he asked quietly.
"I missed you," I said, which was true but not the whole truth.
He studied my face, and I wondered if he could see through me. If he knew that this had been about marking territory, about showing Sofia that he was mine even if it was just an illusion.
"Sofia said something to you," he said. It wasn't a question.
"No. Well, yes. She mentioned you had lunch plans. Together." I tried to sound casual. "It's fine. I just wanted to surprise you."
"Sophia—" He cupped my face. "I don't have lunch plans with Sofia. I don't know what she was talking about. There's a board meeting at twelve, but it's just me and the board members. No one else."
Relief flooded through me, so intense it was almost painful. "Oh."
"Is that what this was about? You thought—" He stopped, something like realization dawning on his face. "You were jealous."
"No, I—" But the lie wouldn't come. I couldn't look him in the eye and deny it. "Maybe a little."
"Sophia." He kissed me softly. "Sofia Lang is an employee. That's all.  there's nothing between us. There never has been, and there never will be."
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him so badly.
"Okay," I whispered.
But he wasn't done. "You know what? I'm going to talk to HR. Establish clearer boundaries. Make sure there's no confusion about what our relationship is."
"You don't have to do that—"
"I want to. Because you're my wife, Sophia. Not her. You're the one I come home to every night. The one I make love to. The one I'm building a life with." He kissed me again, deeper this time. "The only one I want."
The words made my chest ache with how badly I wanted them to be true. How desperately I wanted to believe this was more than a contract, more than an arrangement.
"Now," Lucas said, his voice dropping to that dangerous rumble that made my stomach flip. "I believe you said something about making you scream my name?"
"Lucas, we just—you have a meeting—"
"In forty-five minutes." He was already hardening inside me again, and my eyes went wide. "Plenty of time for round two. Unless you want to stop?"
I should have stopped. Should have been sensible and let him prepare for his meeting. Should have acknowledged that what we'd just done was reckless and inappropriate and everything a contract wife shouldn't be.
Instead, I pulled him down for another kiss.
We went three more rounds—against the wall, bent over the desk, and finally in his executive chair with me in his lap. By the end, I was boneless and exhausted and pretty sure I'd be sore for days.
"Lucas," I gasped after the fourth orgasm. "I can't—no more—please—"
He was still rock hard inside me, still moving with that relentless stamina that would have been impressive if I wasn't so thoroughly destroyed.
"One more," he groaned. "Sophia, please, just one more—"
"How are you still—we did this last night—three times—" I couldn't even form complete sentences. "How are you this active?"
He laughed breathlessly against my neck. "You make me insatiable. I can't help it."
Somehow, impossibly, he coaxed one more orgasm from my oversensitive body before finally, finally finding his own release.
We collapsed together in his chair, both sweaty and disheveled and completely wrecked.
"Your meeting," I mumbled against his shoulder.
"They can wait five more minutes." He stroked my hair gently. "Are you okay? I wasn't too rough?"
"I'm perfect." And I was, despite the exhaustion. Despite the growing concern about the fact that we'd just had unprotected sex four times in his office after three times last night.
We'd stopped using condoms somewhere in Barcelona, and I'd been too caught up in the moment to think about consequences. But now, adding up all the times we'd been together without protection—it was a lot. Too much to just be careless.
I needed to get birth control pills. Needed to take responsibility for this before I accidentally trapped Lucas with a pregnancy neither of us had planned for.
The thought made my stomach churn with guilt. I couldn't do that to him. Couldn't tie him to me permanently when this was supposed to be temporary. When he might want to be with Sofia or someone else eventually.
"I should let you get ready for your meeting," I said, carefully extracting myself from his lap. My legs were shaky, and I had to grab the edge of the desk for support.
Lucas steadied me with gentle hands. "Sophia—"
"I'll see you tonight," I interrupted, not wanting to have whatever conversation he was about to start. "Text me when you're leaving the office. I'll have dinner ready."
I cleaned myself up as best I could in his private bathroom, trying to ignore the evidence of what we'd just done written all over my face. My lips were swollen, my cheeks flushed, my hair a disaster despite my attempts to smooth it down.
I looked thoroughly fucked.
Which I was.
When I emerged, Lucas was buttoning his shirt, looking far more put-together than he had any right to after what we'd just done.
"The food," I said, suddenly remembering. "I brought you lunch."
"I saw. Thank you." He pulled me close for one more kiss. "It looks amazing. I'll eat it after the meeting."
"Okay." I hesitated. "Lucas? What I said to Sofia. About... I shouldn't have—"
"Don't apologize for staking your claim." His smile was wicked. "I liked it. Liked knowing you were jealous enough to mark your territory."
"I wasn't—" But the protest died on my lips. I had been marking territory. Had wanted Sofia to know exactly who Lucas belonged to, even if it was just temporary.
"I'll see you tonight," Lucas said, stealing one more kiss. "I love you."
The words slipped out so casually, so naturally, that it took me a second to process them.
He loved me.
Lucas loved me.
Or he thought he did. Or he was so deep in the performance that the lines had blurred.
I didn't know which option terrified me more.
"Love you too," I managed, because that's what wives said. Because the lie came easily now after weeks of practice.
Even if it wasn't a lie at all.
Even if I'd fallen completely, catastrophically in love with my contract husband and had no idea how to survive when he inevitably realized I wasn't enough.
I gathered my things and left his office on shaky legs, trying to ignore the knowing looks from assistants who'd definitely heard something. Trying not to think about whether Sofia was somewhere nearby, listening, seething.
The elevator ride down felt like the walk of shame. I could see myself in the mirrored walls—rumpled clothes, wild hair, that unmistakable glow of someone who'd just been thoroughly satisfied.
Mrs. Lucas Davenport, having office sex with her billionaire husband like she had every right to.
Like this was her life to claim.
Like she wasn't just borrowing it all on a contract that would eventually expire.
I made it to the car and collapsed into the back seat, and only then did I let myself fully process what had just happened.
I'd declared war on Sofia Lang. Had made it very, very clear that I saw her as a threat and wasn't going to back down.
And now I had to live with the consequences.
Starting with getting birth control pills before my reckless behavior trapped both Lucas and me in a situation neither of us had chosen.
I pulled out my phone and searched for the nearest pharmacy.
Time to take responsibility for my choices.
Even if part of me—a stupid, hopeful part—wished I could be reckless. Could let nature take its course and see if Lucas would choose to stay if I gave him a child.
But that wasn't fair to him. Wasn't fair to anyone.
So I'd get the pills. I'd protect us both from my own desperate need to make this arrangement permanent.
And I'd try not to think about what Sofia might do now that I'd essentially declared myself the enemy.
One problem at a time.
That's all I could handle.
One problem at a time.