Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Every night, I come prepared for the end and armed with the will that kept me going for seven years.
But every time he touches me, every time he calls my name and fucks me like he hates me yet still wants me, I forget all about it.
I tell myself that we’re safe and no one will find out about us. Akira thinks I’m busy with the fashion house and Father couldn’t care less as long as he has his deal with my husband.
Ren has been watching me close lately, but Akira keeps him busy, annoyed, and agitated, so he can’t possibly be following me.
Besides, if that asshole had found out about me and Sebastian, he would’ve told my father and I would have already seen the consequences of my actions. Kai, however, is a mystery. I’m not naive to think he’s in the dark about this entire situation since he’s in the know about everything. However, he seems to be turning a blind eye. He didn’t even ask me to stay away from Sebastian as he did when I first got back here.
So, for now, I choose to be in this temporary phase for as long as I can.
Even if I’m well aware that it won’t last.
Even if I know it will hurt like a mother when it all ends.
Stopping in front of Sebastian’s door, I remove my wedding band and slide it into my bag.
I’ve been doing it since we started our screwed-up relationship. Not that Sebastian commented on it. He’s never once told me to leave Akira, even when he taunts me about him sexually.
But then again, we’d have to have actual conversations for that to happen. All we do is fuck, then I gather my clothes and leave without a word.
I stopped trying to seek affection from him after he brutally rejected me that night. Now, we’re just two hollow souls using each other.
And despite the emptiness of it sometimes, it’s still better than nothing.
I tap in his apartment’s code. He gave it to me so he could ambush me upon my entrance. Some days, he waits until I’m a few steps inside before he takes me. Others, he drags me to the shower and fucks me under the stream of water.
My spine tingles with anticipation of what he’ll do today.
He changes his methods often enough that I have no clue what he has in store for me. It’s part of the thrill and the reason why no one could ever replace him.
Sebastian is the only one who knows my needs and can satisfy them without my having to voice them.
I come to a halt inside the door of the apartment when I notice the lights are on.
In all of the times I’ve been coming here, it’s usually pitch-black, like in some horror movie.
His apartment is really empty. Aside from a TV, there’s absolutely nothing.
A female voice comes from the direction of his bedroom and I freeze, an acid-like sensation rising to my throat.
Please don’t tell me Aspen is here.
I’ve seen him with her at the countless social events Akira and I have been attending. She’s often happily on Sebastian’s arm, and even though I’m not sure whether they’re in a relationship or not, I know there’s something going on.
I’ve felt bad for the times that Sebastian has grabbed me and dragged me into a secluded place so he could fuck me. Sometimes, I feel like such a bitch for being the other woman.
But other times, when I recall that all of this is temporary, I just embrace that bitch and take what I need from him.
Just like he takes everything from me.
Finding Aspen in his apartment is a different story, though.
The wisest option would be to leave, but my legs subconsciously carry me in the direction of his bedroom.
Sebastian’s voice filters through the hall, its baritone a direct stimulation to my ears. The fact that he could use it to talk dirty to someone else turns my blood green with envy.
I stop in the doorway of the bedroom, ready to spoil their fun and be an actual jerk.
But it’s not Aspen I find perched on Sebastian’s bed.
It’s a familiar face I saw at Weaver & Shaw that day. His assistant.
She confiscates a bottle of whisky from Sebastian and forces him back to lie on the bed. He’s dressed in a plain white T-shirt that hugs his chest muscles and gray sweatpants. His chaotic hair appears to be half-damp as it falls across his forehead.
He’s pale, his lips dry and his face worn out. He wasn’t that way two days ago.
“You need to rest,” his assistant says in a reproachable tone.
Sebastian’s gaze strays toward me as if he’s known I was there all along. I swallow thickly, fighting the need to fidget. I’m twenty-eight, but I still feel like that starstruck teenager I was ten years ago when I first saw him.