Used as Payment, Kept as His Own

I had just finished my shower when a hot male body embraced me from behind.

He kissed me from my ear all the way down to my neck, leaving a trail of kiss marks, but it still wasn't enough for him. He turned me around, one hand around my waist, the other holding the back of my head as he kissed me deeply.

His kissing technique was still so skilled. A year of nightly intimacy meant he knew all my sensitive spots perfectly, and I gradually melted in his arms.

When I felt his hand wandering downward, about to lift my skirt, I suddenly struggled. The man's movements stopped. He bit my lip lightly, his tone somewhat reluctant.

"What's wrong? You don't want to today?"

I knew he was puzzled. After all, I'd never refused him before when it came to intimacy.

"The doctor said the fetus wasn't fully stable during the first trimester of pregnancy."

The man's breathing hitched, and his arms around me trembled slightly.

"Aren't you happy to hear you're going to be a father?"

"No, I'm very happy. So incredibly happy. I never thought I could..."

He was incredibly excited, carefully carrying me back to bed and lying on his side to protect my belly. Seeing my exhausted expression, the man turned off the lights and fell silent.

I smiled slightly. I had always been prone to pregnancy, so if anything, it was surprising it took this long to conceive.

As for Alexander Hayes, he always used protection when we were intimate. Even if he forgot once by accident, he would watch me take the morning-after pill afterward.

Since this man treasured the child so much, I wouldn't need to bother with an abortion.

The next morning, the man beside me had disappeared. I went downstairs and ran into Alexander. His breathing was heavy, and I could feel his gaze fixed intently on me.

"The marks on your neck..."

Was he jealous? I wondered, smiling.

"It's all your fault for being so rough last night, Alexander. My legs still hurt, and those marks must be from then. Why do you seem so confused?"

"I'm just worried it might look bad if you go out like that. Remember to cover them up."

I gave a noncommittal response, not bothering to mention how a blind person was supposed to cover up marks by herself. Alexander hurriedly ate a few bites of breakfast and left, claiming he had business to attend to.

I felt my way upstairs and turned on the listening device connected to his phone. It occurred to me that Alexander's grandfather, Elliot Hayes, had installed this when I first arrived. He hoped it would help us communicate better and develop our relationship more quickly.

Who would have thought it would now serve as evidence of his betrayal?