Library

Search

Home / Romance / Belonging to You / Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

All Chapters of Belonging to You: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

67 Chapters

041

Abigail’s POVThe aspirin didn’t help.It had been two days since we returned from Cancun, and the headache still hadn’t loosened its grip. It had settled deeper, like it had unpacked and decided to stay.Now it came with a cold.The curtains were drawn tight, shutting out the afternoon. My apartment sat in thick darkness, the air stale and warm. I hadn’t turned on a single light.I had called the Castillo house earlier this morning and told them I wouldn’t be coming in. My voice sounded like gravel. Lola had immediately begun asking questions. I had reassured her twice before she reluctantly let me hang up.Now I lay curled on the couch, a blanket wrapped around me though sweat clung to the back of my neck.Christian had left for Chicago the morning after we returned.Business trip.At least that was what Alberto had mentioned casually over breakfast.It had been easier not worrying about running into him at the mansion these past two days. Easier not to accidentally brush hands in h

042

Christian’s POV“Tell me I’m hallucinating,” Miles’ voice cut through the line the second I picked up. “Tell me you didn’t just leave Chicago when we were this close to closing the Harrington deal.”I stepped into the kitchen and shut the door halfway so it wouldn’t carry. Abigail had just drifted off.“Good morning to you too, Miles.”“I’m serious.” A sharp breath crackled through the speaker. “Contracts were drafted. They were ready. And then I turn around and your jet is gone.”I leaned against the counter and stared at the darkened living room beyond the doorway.“I didn’t walk away,” I said. “I postponed.”“You vanished. There’s a difference.”Silence settled.Then, quieter, “Was it her?”My jaw tightened.“Handle the paperwork,” I replied. “I’ll deal with Harrington personally.”Another long exhale. “You don’t walk away from a three-month negotiation for nothing.”“I don’t.”A pause.“You’re impossible.”“And yet,” I said calmly, “you still work for me.”“Unfortunately.” A beat.

043

Abigail’s POV “Just fucking kill me,” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shot and wishing he would grant my request.My hands were shaking. My entire body felt hollowed out, scraped clean and left trembling. Sweat clung to my skin, cooling too fast and making me shiver.Christian stayed crouched in front of me until the heaving stopped. One hand steadied the bin. The other stayed tangled gently in my hair, fingers firm at the nape of my neck.He didn’t rush me.He didn’t flinch.When I finally sagged back, breath coming in thin drags, he stood and laid me down carefully against the cushions.I watched him walk toward my bedroom.I didn’t have the strength to ask where he was going.By the time he came back, I’d barely registered the silence.I lifted my head at the sound of his steps—and frowned.He was wearing nothing but his briefs.Even sick. Even miserable. I stared.“Christian,” I croaked, my voice wrecked and thin. “You are so not getting laid right now.”He didn’t even look amused.

044

Christian’s POV The doorbell shattered the moment. I glanced at Abigail, still perched at the island in my shirt, her legs bare and crossed, that faint flush creeping up her neck under my stare. She shook her head—no one expected. Irritation flickered through me. Who the hell interrupted this? We’d barely scraped the surface of whatever this morning was becoming.I moved before she could, striding to the door in just my pants. No time to grab a shirt. If it was a delivery or some neighbor, they’d deal with it. I swung it open, ready to dismiss whoever it was.The man on the other side froze, his eyes widening like I’d just pulled a gun. He was holding a bouquet of wildflowers—daisies, maybe—and a paper bag that smelled faintly of chicken soup and pharmacy.Average build, clean-cut, the kind of guy who looked harmless until you caught the way his jaw tightened. He looked oddly familiar.“Trevor?” Abigail’s voice carried from behind me, surprised but warm.His gaze dropped from my fa

045

Abigail’s POVMy eyes stung.I hadn’t expected that question to hurt.“What else did he say?”Christian’s voice had been quiet. Steady. But there was something under it that made my throat tighten.I hadn’t answered.Now he stood across from me, the last plate stacked neatly beside the sink. The kitchen was spotless. He was done. And he was watching me like he could see straight through the thin layer of composure I was trying to hold together.My chest felt too tight.“After my dad died…” My voice came out softer than I intended.Christian didn’t interrupt. He didn’t move closer either. He just leaned back against the counter, arms loose at his sides, waiting.I swallowed.“Luke was good before that,” I said quickly, almost defensive. “He really was. He used to drive three hours just to have dinner with me. He remembered every little thing.”My fingers twisted together.“But grief changes people. It changed me.”Christian’s jaw flexed.“I wasn’t… fun anymore,” I continued. “I cried a

046

Abigail’s POVWarm hands wrapped around me.I should have stepped away. Said something sensible. Something firm that reminded both of us this was a terrible idea.That he wanted safe. Surface. No promises.He had said so himself.Instead I stood under the shower spray, heart thudding so loudly I could hear it over the water.My heart wanted more.And Christian wasn’t a man who could give me more.I knew that.I should end this.But when the bathroom door had creaked open a minute ago and he stepped into my tiny shower room, tall and quiet and very much not leaving, my heart had given a stupid, hopeful thud.Oh my stupid, stupid heart.It would never learn.Warm water slid down my shoulders as steam curled around us, turning the small room hazy. I hadn’t turned around yet.I couldn’t.I felt him behind me. Close.His breath brushed the back of my neck.“Christian…” My voice came out thinner than I intended.He didn’t answer.Warm fingers slid around my waist instead. Slow. Careful. Lik

047

Abigail’s POV“You can,” he insisted between licks. “And you will. Fuck, you taste like mine.”His hand came up, wrapping around my throat—not tight, just enough pressure to make my pulse race under his palm. I moaned, the dominance in his grip sending fresh heat pooling between my legs.“Yes,” I gasped, grinding against his face. “Just like that... choke me a little more.”He obliged, fingers tightening slightly as his tongue worked me over. The combination—his mouth devouring me, hand controlling my breath—pushed me higher, faster. My body tensed, toes curling against the wet floor.“Come for me again,” he ordered, voice muffled but firm. “Scream my name when you do.”I did. The orgasm hit harder, ripping through me like fire, and I cried out his name, voice echoing off the tiles. He held me through it, fingers loosening on my throat as I trembled, aftershocks making my legs shake.Finally, he rose, towering over me, chest heaving. His eyes raked over my flushed body, satisfied bu

048

Christian’s POV Abigail was fine now. Back on her feet. Back to the quiet rhythm of her days—caring for Abuelo, gliding through the estate’s marble halls like she had always belonged in them.That didn’t stop us.It didn’t even slow us down.Mindless, senseless fucks in the shadowed corners of the Castillo estate—her skirt hiked around her waist, my hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the sounds she couldn’t hold back. In my office after hours, her bent over the desk, papers scattered, my grip bruising her hips while she whispered my name like a prayer. At her place, slow and brutal on her couch, her nails raking down my back until I bled, until we both forgot how to breathe.Every time was better than the last. Every time I thought I’d finally had enough of her—of the way she arched, the way she broke, the way she looked at me like I was something worth keeping—I was wrong. She always showed me more. Always gave more. Always took more.God help me, she was addictive.And I was

049

Narrator’s POVCarmen rolled her shoulders as she stepped out of the private gym, tugging the elastic from her hair and letting the dark strands fall down her back. The night breeze was cool against her skin.Her muscles felt pleasantly loose after yoga.She glanced toward the parking area just in time to see a sleek black car pulling away from the curb.Her brother’s car.Carmen blinked.“He left already?” she muttered under her breath.The engine roared faintly as the vehicle disappeared through the gate.She sighed and shifted her gym bag higher on her shoulder.Great.She really didn’t feel like dealing with public transport today. The thought alone made her nose wrinkle.“Carmen?”Her shoulders stiffened immediately.Slowly, she turned.And there he was.Miles Sullivan.The one person she had never wanted to run into.He was leaning casually against his car like he had nowhere else to be. His boxing gloves hung loose from one hand, sweat-darkened hair pushed back from his forehea

050

Abigail’s POV Rain tapped softly against the windows.Steady. Gentle.The lights in the bedroom were dim, casting everything in a warm amber glow. The world outside felt distant, like it belonged to someone else entirely.Here, in this quiet little bubble, everything felt… perfect.Safe. Untouchable.I lay sprawled across Christian’s chest, my cheek resting against the steady rise and fall of his breathing.His fingers played lazily with the ends of my hair, twisting loose strands, letting them slip through his knuckles. His other hand traced slow, absent circles on my bare back—big, warm palm gliding over skin still flushed and sensitive from earlier.The movement was absentminded.Gentle.So very un-Christian-like.And yet he’d been doing it for the last ten minutes.I wasn’t about to complain.I closed my eyes and let myself sink into it.Outside, the rain continued its soft rhythm. Inside, the only sound was our breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets when one of us shifted

PREV

NEXT

SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP

DMCA.com Protection Status