Substitute Wife For The Blind CEO

Chapter 40: Can I Join You?

Stefan’s jaw clenched slightly, like he was fighting some internal battle—but it only lasted a second. His hands rose, one cupping her cheek, the other sliding to her lower back, guiding her closer. His touch was unhurried, but firm and certain.

Ruby found herself shifting, straddling his lap instinctively, needing to be near him—with him—not just in proximity, but in soul. She knew she was dancing on a razor-thin line between lies and truth, but in that moment, all she could focus on was him—his touch, his need, the way his breath deepened with every inch of closeness.

His lips found hers again, this time bolder, hungrier. Their mouths moved in sync, a rhythm that grew with each heartbeat, with each brush of skin. Ruby let her hands roam, exploring his broad shoulders, the firm lines of his chest beneath his shirt.

"God..." he whispered between kisses, his fingers brushing along her spine. "You feel like something I dreamed about but never thought I’d touch. You feel different today."

His words undid her as she let loose all her reservations.

Ruby moaned softly into his mouth, and that sound—low, real, raw—made Stefan grip her tighter. She could feel the tension coiled in his body, the restraint but she didn’t let him go.

He broke the kiss again, breathing hard. "If this is too much—if you want to stop—just say so."

"I don’t," she said, voice trembling. "I don’t want to stop."

Though she knew it was barely a week she had married him and shouldn’t be doing this as it was still to early, she just couldn’t help.

A question crossed her mind about what she’d do in the coming year when she was already losing herself this way but then, she didn’t care.

He reached up slowly, his hand finding the curve of her neck, his thumb brushing just beneath her jaw as if memorizing the shape of her. "You’re so beautiful," he murmured. "Every time I touch you, it feels like the world quiets down."

Ruby bit her lip, overwhelmed by the gentle intensity in his voice.

She pressed her forehead to his again. "I don’t know what’s happening to me," she confessed in a shaky whisper. "But I don’t want it to stop either."

Neither moved for a moment, both simply breathing in each other.

Then, gently, Stefan stood—carrying her with ease as she clung to him instinctively. He walked them the few steps to the bed and laid her down with such care that it made her heart twist.

He sat beside her, brushing her hair from her face. "I wish I could see you right now," he said softly. "But I can feel everything. And you feel... like everything I didn’t know I needed."

rose and fell, her lips parted in silent wonder. How did he always say the exact words that made

the hem of his shirt. "Then feel everything, take me," she whispered, guiding his hands to her

Only the

traced skin, lips brushed scars and collarbones. Every kiss was a promise. Every touch was an answer to a question neither of them

just

with a natural ease that

of skin on skin. But the tension built, fierce and tender, until neither could hold back. They came undone

they had both hit the edge, they lay tangled in the sheets, Ruby’s head resting on his chest,

no longer heavy. It was soft. Intimate. Full of

before. It’s incredible," Stefan said

so too," she whispered, knowing full well

too. While Stefan climbed on the bed, she picked up her phone, her fingers curling around it as she unlocked the screen, wanting to see if Rayna had replied her text or

her face in the dim room,

a club nearby. Needed some music and chaos. I’ll sneak back in before we leave tomorrow. Don’t worry,

sigh of relief she hadn’t even realized she was holding

strobe lights, drink in hand, probably

when she felt

voice low and edged

still resting in her hand. "Yeah! No! I mean

into a soft, almost embarrassed smile. "It’s just...tonight was the best. Even now, I still feel your touch, Stefan," she admitted quietly. "Even though you’re not touching me and we’ve been done for a while

reached out, his hand finding hers like it

what you mean," he said softly. "I

but with a shared understanding neither of them

her heels, matching the wild beat of her heart. Rayna stood in the middle of

with strangers—dancing bodies, the scent of cologne and sweat, and the clinking of glasses—but

quiet as a mouse, and living like a ghost in someone else’s home, she

of her drink and set the glass on the bar before scanning the crowd. Her eyes, bright

club, dressed in black. Tailored pants, a charcoal button-down, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He had a quiet confidence in the way he held himself, and