All Chapters of My CEO mate: Divorce made me his: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

EZRAI can feel her.Not just in the way a man feels when he's in love—this isn’t that kind of soft. I don't even know what love is!This… this is madness. This is blood- warmth- twisting- in- my- veins kind of knowing.It’s cell-deep.Like my bones learned her name before my mouth ever said it.When she's close, I knew it even before I heard the click of her heels down the hall like a countdown to either salvation or total destruction.I should leave.But I didn’t.I can’t.She’s been avoiding me, and it’s driving me out of my mind.She shuts the door before I can speak.She walks faster when she senses me near.She laughs with Nathan.Nathan.The name alone makes something in my chest grow fangs.She laughs differently with him.Softer. Like her lungs trust him. Like he’s safe.But I want to be her safe.I want to be the arms she falls into, not the one she flees.I want to unclip her armor and kiss the scars underneath.Fuck.She’s made of wildfire and sugar and grief and sharp edg

EZRAThe passenger side of this car was not built for a man of my stature —neither in width nor in pride. Yet, here I am again, legs crossed— or at least attempting to, while I sip my Sanguara — the sixth cup now since I've been here for the past one hour and thirty minutes— shoes off, jacket draped over my knee, listening.To her heartbeat.That damn heartbeat.Steady. Measured. Occasionally quickened, sometimes slowing down just to quicken again. She wouldn’t know I was here. She can't.I'm in a second-hand car because I know that bringing one of my cars makes me prone to tearing a human open.The first night was unintentional. I’d been passing by after a late call, and I’d paused—just for a second. That second had become an hour. Then a habit. Now, a need.What kind of man finds solace in the echo of a woman’s pulse through a wooden door?A broken one.Thea Carlisle didn’t break me. Let’s be clear about that. She just… cracked open something I didn’t know was still alive. She doesn

EZRASilence.She doesn't move. Doesn’t even breathe. Just stares with a blank look on her face Then—very softly, like she’s trying not to raise her voice or scream—she says, “You what?”“I didn’t mean to.” The words taste pathetic. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”“You marked me?” Her voice rises, brittle. “What does that even mean?”“It’s a bond. Like… like a tether. I didn’t force it I swear and it wasn't intentional. It just—when I took you that day in my office, something shifted. I felt it. I thought if I ignored it—”“Ezra.” She stands slowly, her hands trembling. “You marked me?”I nod. “Yes.”“Without telling me.”“I didn’t know how—”She laughs. Sharp. Cold. “God, of course you didn’t. Why ask me, right? Why tell me anything?”“I didn’t think it would bring the Nytherin—”“But you thought it would be fine to claim me like I’m some kind of—what? Property? Territory?” Her voice is rising now, and the venom in it makes my hands curl into fists. “Jesus, Ezra. I trusted you. I ch

EZRAHer mouth tastes like fire and guilt and everything I’ve missed in the hollow of my chest.She kisses me back hard at first—like she’s trying to chase something away, like she wants me to be cruel. Maybe to justify what we’re doing. Maybe to feel less raw about how much she needs me.But I won’t give her that.I refuse to.Because this isn’t hate.This is the opposite of hate.My hands trail down her sides slowly, reverently, like they have all the time in the world. Her skin is warm. Electric. Alive.She whimpers into my mouth, and I press in closer, trapping her against the edge of the sofa. Her legs brush mine, bare and trembling. I can feel the slight tremor of her knees, the way her fingers twitch like she doesn’t know whether to push me away or drag me under.I pull back just enough to look at her.Her cheeks are flushed. Eyes wide, unsure. Her chest rising like she’s drowning in air.“You think I could ever fuck you like I hate you?” I whisper, my voice hoarse, thick. “I’v

THEACrying yourself to sleep has to be one of the dumbest things a person can do.Because when I wake at 4 a.m., I don’t feel rested. I feel wrecked. Like my body tried to collapse in on itself and failed halfway. My head is pounding—sharp and mean—my nose clogged, my eyes puffed and burning like they’ve been rubbed raw.But I can't deny the fact that the crying helped.I blink against the darkness.And that’s when everything comes rushing back.Ezra.His mouth. His hands. His truth. The feeling of being wanted, wrecked, marked—then left with nothing but the echo of a man I didn’t know I loved until it was far too late to stop it.I drag myself out of bed, not even bothering with a robe and openly drawing the duvet after me. The silence is too loud, the duvet too cold, and the ache in my chest too wide to lie still. My feet pad down the stairs, each step numb, my house deathly silent like it's turned hostile.It's freezing. The kind of cold that settles in your blood and whispers th