You have to promise,

Lara.

I had just taken a shower, and my skin was slightly flushed from the heat. The gentle and inviting scent of fresh jasmine lazily wafted through the air, spicing the moment in ways I couldn't explain, and yet, my body could.

A towel was draped lazily around my body as I oiled my skin, my movements slow and sensual, perfectly hiding the desperation that coated my skin.

I wanted him to notice. To really see me.

In the huge white themed bedroom, scented candles flickered gently, and the meaning behind their seemingly harmless presence wasn't so subtle...

My best friend said that the scented candles were the ultimate game-changer, that they could spice up the sexual mood, and although I didn't believe it, I still went ahead and bought them. That's how desperate I was, after all. Desperate for a proper f*ck.

For a brief moment, my gaze flickered to the unusually quiet grandfather clock, a symbol of old money, and a shaky breath slipped past my lips when I saw the time on the display. It was exactly 11:55 deep in the night, and we only had five minutes before twelve.

Why twelve, you ask? Precisely. It was around that time that my husband usually came to bed.

And today, I was determined to thaw the ice encased in his entire being... Even if it broke me first.

With only five minutes between me and my orgasm, my movements became hurried, desperate, as I slipped into the sexy lingerie that I had discreetly bought in the convenience store next to our company.

'I will f*ck his father if he doesn't f*ck me today!' I muttered under my breath as I adjusted the straps, and when I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my heart stopped.

I was the ideal description of model-like beauty. Curves in the right places, the height to dream for, and silky black hair that fell all the way to my back, a big contrast to my pale and delicate skin.

And now, with my perfect figure wrapped in the sexy red lingerie set, I was nothing but desirable, and yet, my husband, Derek Tate, had hardly shown interest in me for the last year.

Yeah. For a whole f*cking year, he hardly touched me, let alone looked at me like a woman.

His fleeting gaze, if I was lucky to get one, was filled with indifference, like I wasn't there, like I wasn't the woman whom he had once begged on one knee to marry.

'Well, that changes tonight,' I whispered as I wore the white silk robe before I slowly made my way towards the bedroom door.

We only had one minute left, and I could feel his approaching footsteps.

Derek, the man I was married to, was always like that, calm, predictable, serious, and, boring.

" Derek. " When his familiar figure appeared at the doorstep, I called, my voice soft, sensual, and that successfully captured his attention.

For a moment, his gaze locked into mine and slowly, while taking calculated steps towards him, I undid the silk robe, exposing my body, my skin, and the ridiculously expensive lingerie set that barely covered my breasts, to his display.

Slowly, his gaze moved from my face to my body, calmly, and each passing second served to heat the moment.

I felt like goods in the display, ready to be purchased, and that should have been extremely insulting, but for a sexually starved woman like me, that felt like a good deal, as long as the price was a night of s*x, rough, wild, a night filled with moans and ecstasy-induced cries- just what my body desperately needed.

Surprisingly, his gaze took longer than I expected, and my skin tingled with expectation just from the anticipation.

I expected him to drag a deep and lazy breath. I expected him to inhale sharply, his eyes to sharpen with predatory hunger before he hungrily pulled me into his broad arms, locking my lips into his...

Well, for a brief moment, there were desires in his eyes, but shortly, they were replaced by indifference, with a frown tagging at the corners of his lips.

After all the preparations, after all the anticipation, I should have been shattered by his attitude, and I was, and yet, that was not enough to discourage me.

We were legally married.

He had a duty as a husband to me, and that was to f*ck me.

I had tried to be patient, understanding, but one year was all I was taking.

" Derek ?" My voice was excessively syrupy as I calked out, and without looking at his reaction, I walked towards him, yanked him forcefully towards me with his tie before my soft hand rested on his chest.

From just my touch, I felt him stiffen, and although I wasn't willing to admit it, a dull ache spread to my heart.

In the past he used to like me, what changed? Was I so undesirable to him now?

We had only been married for two years. Was that all it took for him to be fed up with me?

" Can't you talk properly?" He snapped as he removed my hand from his chest, his rough movements almost bordering on repulsion.

" What? You used to like it when I called you that!"

" My voice used to turn you on," I whispered, biting on my bottom lip to keep those traitorous tears at bay.

I only wanted to cum, not to cry.

" Grow up, Lara!"

" That was three years ago. We grow. We evolve. I am no longer fixated on physical pleasure." He spat, his ruthless words bruising my ego in ways I wasn't sure I was ever going to recover.

" You need to find your purpose in life. Not clinging to fantasy and vanity." He added, biting disgust rolling with his tongue as he created some distance between us. From an outsider's perspective, I looked like a person with a contagious disease, and he couldn't bring himself to stand near me.

Standing there, clothed in what had initially felt like an armour, I felt like the biggest joke ever.

Shame and humiliation crawled to my skin as I stared at the distance between us.

" It's been a year since you last touched me, Derek. Don't you feel anything at all? "

"Don't you want me?" My voice trembled as I asked, and honestly, I was also surprised by my courage. Well, I guess that was a year of me missing a d*ck talking.

" No. "

" I don't. "

" Do you know what else I don't like?" He asked, a soft and harmless smile dangling at the corners of his lips, and as his words landed, I had never been so humiliated before.

" I don't like how desperate you are, Lara " He added, as he took one condescending look at me, before he stepped into the bathroom.

No matter how thick-skinned I pretended to be, I couldn't remain composed after such an humiliation.

And thus, with trembling fingers, shaking shoulders and a tear-streaked face, I picked the silk robe from the floor, wrapped it around my body before I rushed out of the room, soft sobs loudly accompanying me.

I needed to breathe, to think, but most clearly, I needed to decide.

Now outside the house, the cold night air felt like a breath of fresh air, a companion, and I found myself breaking down even more.

The night was deep, punctuated with unsettling silence and ironically, I found comfort in it than I did in my billion-dollar house, in my trillion-dollar worth husband.

" Lara," I had just positioned myself in the garden bench, ready to merge with the darkness when a vaguely familiar voice called and I jerked up, visibly startled.

" It's been four years since we last saw each other." Lazy and sensual, the same voice spoke and my thighs clenched instinctively, just from listening to his familiar voice.

My body had always responded so intensely to him. And this time, it was no different.

It was Ethan, my ex.

" Did you miss me?" He asked, this time, his voice near, and his presence was so strong that goosebumps lined my skin, and my throat parched.

Some things never change.

" You look beautiful, and miserable. " He whispered to my ears, shamelessly invading my personal space.

' You are married now, Lara.' I reminded myself as I hunched my body back, trying to create some distance between us.

I should have pushed him away, heavens, I wanted to, but I craved a touch, a f*ck so much that my thoughts were muddled and my feelings messed up.

And Ethan, being so near? It wasn't helping, especially since his presence reminded me of the wild LA nights that we used to spend, fuckng the night out, rawing each other as if humanity depended on it.

Just the thought of how his huge co*ck used to feel while buried deep inside me had me taking in a sharp and hungry intake of air, my movements, the only invitation he needed...

" You look sexually starved, too." He added, a familiar smirk playing on his lips, and my features darkened. He had always been like that, brutally honest.

" If your house is on the far left, then I am now your next-door neighbour. "

" I just moved in. "

" I will fix your sexual hunger."

" I will f*ck you, just like I used to...." He whispered, his hand already circling my neck and I swear, I was holding myself from begging him to fuck me, right there, then, insanely, just like he used to, back then...

" But you have to promise me something, " He dragged, leisurely, and I nodded, like a starved puppy...