My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 241 Elizabeth knew that resisting now would only appear overly theatrical.

Elizabeth’s voice was scarcely a murmur as she spoke, “Darling,” the word tinged with a shy vulnerability.

She had uttered it countless times before—sometimes with sincerity, sometimes as part of a carefully rehearsed act.

Yet never had the word sounded so tender, so hauntingly beautiful, as it did at that moment.

He gazed down at her radiant face, droplets of water trickling from her damp hair to her temple.

In her eyes, gleaming with emotion, he saw his own reflection.

The room was steeped in silence, broken only by the soft rhythm of their uneven breaths and the pounding of their hearts.

Elijah knew with certainty—this yearning wasn’t caused by the drug.

The trace of aphrodisiac in the drinks had been negligible to him, scarcely worth a second consideration.

He recalled a far darker time, ambushed during a business trip abroad, where he’d been subjected to interrogation-grade substances potent enough to nearly shatter him.

For seven grueling hours, he had endured, using a knife to carve into his thigh, the pain his only tether to consciousness.

That unyielding resolve had secured him a position in foreign markets, earning him both respect and fear from corporate giants and shadowed underworld figures alike.

His eyes smoldered as they met hers, his voice dropping to a low, passionate pitch.

“Do you know who I am?”

“You’re Elijah,” Elizabeth murmured, her voice trembling, thick with unspoken desire.

“My husband.”

radiated through her, unbearable and all-consuming, and he was the only solace she

words sent a surge of satisfaction through

she knew this

him, just as it could only

damp strands from her forehead, his touch lingering as he traced the curve of her cheek,

kiss was deeper, urgent, as though he sought

breath hitched, a soft, involuntary moan slipping past her lips,

with purpose, slipping the delicate fabric away, lifting her leg as he finally joined with

and a cry

her cries with the tenderness of his

his tenderness, touched something deep within

she wrapped her arms

response shattered the last remnants

heat and desire as their bodies found a rhythm that was

be satisfied, his movements frantic, as though he were tasting something forbidden,

intoxicated by the pleasure, but soon it

she lay there, exhausted and yielding,

and out of sleep, she felt herself spiraling toward climax

sky outside glowed with

the air still hummed with the memory of

had been

still morning, and tried to pull the

Elijah’s voice broke through the

“Dinner’s ready.

shower, and let’s head

stepped out of the bathroom, his bathrobe hanging loosely, revealing the sculpted muscles of his