4. It Hurt Like Hell

 

Connor stiffened perceptibly, a flicker of something akin to delighted surprise in his eyes.

He looked utterly stunned, almost disbelieving.

I thought of Josh, working through countless sleepless nights on this proposal.

I thought of Connor's indifference three years ago.

And I leaned in and kissed him, deep and deliberate.

My tongue tangled shamelessly with his. I hiked up my shirt, exposing my firm buttocks, and pulled his hand to rest there.

His grip tightened on my me, and his breathing grew ragged.

A secret smile played on my lips. I knew what he liked, knew exactly where to ignite him.

A ragged breath escaped Connor's throat.

"Shirley, Does this mean... you’ve forgiven me?"

I didn't answer. My hand slid over the ridges of his sculpted abs, down to his v-line.

Only after I felt the hard swell between his legs did I slowly pull away from his lips.

"I want that contract," I said, my gaze steady on his.

Connor let out a deep, shuddering breath, the desire in his eyes fading.

"So, you're using me, aren't you?" His voice was hoarse, tinged with anger.

One by one, I unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my full breasts.

"My proposal is excellent, you saw that. Sign with me; you won't regret it."

I met his gaze, my voice steady. "And I know you want to sleep with me, right?"

I'd known he had ulterior motives yesterday at the exhibition hall, but I wouldn't be foolish again.

The girl who had loved him with her entire being was dead.

She had died on that cold winter night, died in that vast pool of blood.

A dull ache throbbed in my lower abdomen, a pain that had tormented me for three years.

That night, Vanessa had cornered me again. Her people had thrown me to the ground, kicking my stomach.

I writhed in agony, begging them to stop.

"Vanessa, I don't know how I offended you, but I can go far away. I can move to another city; he'll never find me."

My voice was raw, pleading. "As you wished, my mother is dead. Please, just let me keep this child. It's my only hope."

But my pleas only seemed to excite them more. Blow after blow rained down on me, the pain so intense my soul felt like it was tearing free from my body.

I curled into a ball, trying to protect it, but the kicks kept coming until I had no strength left.

I felt a mass tear from my body with a searing pain, gushing out of me.

My baby!

I wept silently, so utterly hopeless I wished I could just die with it.

When I woke, I found myself lying in a half-dried puddle of blood. Those who had hurt me were gone.

Beneath me was a bloody, mangled fetus, still attached by the umbilical cord...

My poor baby. Just one more month, and you would have been in this world...

I roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated anguish.

I hated Connor! Hated Vanessa! Hated everyone! Hated this world!

A few silent tears escaped, landing on his arm. Connor flinched, then used a finger to gently wipe them away.

"You missed me, didn't you? Where have you been these past three years? I couldn't find you anywhere. Do you know how much I suffered?"

A cold laugh echoed in my mind, even as more tears streamed down my face.

If it weren't for his beloved fiancée, I wouldn't have endured so much agony.

My baby, if he had lived, would be two years old now, probably so adorable.

I pressed closer to him, my hand finding his hard erection.

"Let's not talk about the past, okay? I just want to talk about now."

I closed my eyes, unwilling to let him see the coldness within them.

In swift movements, I shed all my clothes, standing naked before him save for my six-inch heels.

I had a slender waist, full breasts, and firm glutes. I knew he wouldn't be able to resist such a temptation.

Sure enough, his Adam's apple bobbed. He pulled me into his embrace, kissing me fiercely.

"Shirley, this is incredible. I have you back again..."

His voice was hoarse, his breathing heavy, lost in desire.

His kisses trailed down my neck, then slid to my firm breasts. His tongue flicked rapidly over my nipples, sending waves of intense electricity surging through my entire body.

Yet, the subtle ache in my lower abdomen, mixed with a deep sense of shame, made me incredibly uncomfortable.

I hated him; I'd once sworn to tear him apart. Why was my body still reacting to him?

For over two years, I'd thought my womb was dead. The doctors said it was severely damaged, and apart from monthly periods and occasional pain, it felt no desire.

But now, it was trembling beneath my skin.

I loathed myself for losing control to lust, yet part of me wanted to give in, to draw him in even deeper.

I pushed Connor onto the sofa, straddling his thighs. His hand glided back and forth over my sex, a guttural sigh escaping his throat.

"Baby, you're so wet."

His thumb kneaded my clit, and his tongue danced on my breasts.

My body's suppressed responses built like a tide. I groaned, rubbing myself against his rock-hard dick.

"Connor, I want you."

I wanted to hold him tight, in the palm of my hand.

I didn't want any more talk, no long foreplay. My fever-weakened body was still frail, and my lower abdomen throbbed.

I lowered my hips, letting him fill me, and my vagina, despite everything, responded.

But all I could think of was that night three years ago, my tearful, desperate pleas. "Connor, I don't believe you just got tired of me..."

"Tell me you love me, please..."

"You were so happy when we were together..."

Shaking off the memories, I wiped the tears from my face and began to move, rising and falling with the same rhythm as before.

My vagina tightened around him, and he swelled even more.

He was clearly aroused, his grey-blue eyes darkening like deep pools, filled with raw desire.

I intentionally let out loud moans, playing along, pretending to be lost in the moment.

Suddenly, Connor pulled me close, thrusting violently. Waves of warmth surged from beneath me.

He groaned in satisfaction, holding me tight. He gently kissed away my tears, his eyes filled with lust and a surprising tenderness.

My heart remained unmoved. I pulled away and went to the bathroom for a quick wash.

A few minutes later, dressed in his shirt and my suit jacket, I stood before him, looking at him calmly.

"Connor, you promised me. The contract."