Chapter 60

Chapter 60

SOPHIA

I woke up to the sensation of warmth pressed against my back and Lucas's arm draped over my waist. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, painting everything in soft gold, and for a moment I just lay there, breathing in the vanilla and sandalwood scent of our sheets, trying to memorize exactly how this felt.

Safe. Loved. Home.

Even if it was all temporary.

Today was Friday. Adam's discharge day. After a year of hospitals and uncertainty and grief, my baby brother was finally coming home. Coming to live with us in this beautiful penthouse with his truck-themed bedroom and his new family and all the possibilities that had seemed impossible just weeks ago.

I should have been purely happy. Should have been floating with joy and relief.

Instead, I was anxious. Because tucked in my nightstand drawer, still in its pharmacy bag, was the pack of birth control pills I hadn't taken yet. Pills I needed to start today if they were going to be effective. Pills that represented the responsible, rational choice.

Pills I kept finding excuses not to take.

I felt Lucas stir behind me, his arm tightening around my waist, pulling me closer. His morning erection pressed against my lower back—a now-familiar presence that still made heat pool in my belly despite how thoroughly he'd wrecked me last night.

"Good morning," he murmured against my neck, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," I whispered back.

"Big day today." His lips traced the curve of my shoulder. "Adam comes home."

"I know. I can barely believe it's real."

"It's real." His hand splayed across my stomach, warm and possessive. "Everything's real, Sophia. This family we're building—it's all real."

I wanted to believe him. Wanted to let myself sink into the fantasy that this marriage was more than a contract, that his feelings ran as deep as mine did, that when he touched me like this it meant something beyond physical desire.

But I couldn't. Not when Sofia Lang was waiting at his office. Not when our arrangement had an expiration date. Not when I was too scared to ask if he wanted this to be permanent because I couldn't bear hearing him say no.

Lucas's hand moved lower, skimming over my hip, his fingers finding the edge of my sleep shirt. "Sophia," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made my stomach flip. "I want you."

"We should get up," I said weakly, even as my body was already responding to his touch. "We have to pick up Adam, and I need to shower and—"

"We have time." His hand slipped beneath my shirt, cupping my breast, his thumb circling my nipple until it hardened. "I need to be inside you. Please."

The please destroyed me. Lucas Davenport, billionaire CEO, begging to make love to his wife like it was a privilege rather than a contractual obligation.

"Okay," I breathed, and that was all the permission he needed.

He turned me onto my back and kissed me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine, his hand still working my breast with practiced skill. I arched into his touch, already wet, already aching for him.

"Bathroom," he growled against my lips. "I want to take you in the shower."

He pulled me up and guided me to our ensuite bathroom—all marble and glass and luxury that still felt surreal. The space was huge, with a walk-in shower that could easily fit four people and a bathtub that looked like something out of a spa.

Lucas turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature while I watched him, my heart hammering. Even after weeks of this, I still couldn't quite believe he wanted me this much. That this gorgeous, powerful man looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.

The bathroom started to fill with steam, and Lucas turned back to me, his eyes dark with hunger. He was wearing only boxer briefs, and the outline of his erection was impossible to miss.

"Take off your clothes," he said softly. "Let me see you."

I pulled off my sleep shirt with shaking hands, suddenly self-conscious despite how many times he'd seen me naked. I wasn't wearing anything underneath, and his sharp intake of breath when he saw me made my skin flush.

"Beautiful," he murmured, closing the distance between us. "Sophia, you're so fucking beautiful."

His hands were everywhere—cupping my breasts, skimming down my sides, gripping my hips to pull me against him. I could feel how hard he was, could feel the heat of him even through the thin fabric of his underwear.

"Lucas," I gasped as his mouth found my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "Please—"

"I've got you." He walked me backward into the shower, and the hot water cascaded over us immediately. "Just let me take care of you."

He pressed me against the cool tile wall, the contrast between the cold marble and the hot water making me shiver. His mouth moved lower, kissing down my throat, my collarbone, taking my nipple between his teeth and biting gently.

I cried out, my hands fisting in his wet hair, holding him to me. He switched to my other breast, giving it the same attention while his hand slipped between my thighs.

"Already so wet for me," he groaned, his fingers sliding through my folds. "God, Sophia. I'll never get tired of this. Never get tired of how ready you always are."

He pushed two fingers inside me, and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. The stretch was perfect, the angle exactly right, and when he curled his fingers I saw stars.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough. "Let me hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

"Lucas—oh God—Lucas, I'm going to—"

"Come for me." His thumb found my clit, c

ircling with just the right pressure. "Come on my fingers, Sophia. Show me."