The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 184

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The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 184: Memories in the Bathtub

Sean POV

A dull, throbbing pain greeted me as consciousness returned. I forced my eyes open, squinting against the morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains. Noticing the blanket covering me, I couldn't help but smile. Angela had given

it

to me--she still cared about me.

Memories of last night crashed over me like waves. Christina's attempted drugging. My journey here. The bathroom.

God, the bathroom.

I closed my eyes, replaying every moment with vivid clarity.

Angela had been there, helping me into the tub. In that haze of heat, she'd seemed like a goddess-radiant, untouchable, her body fuller than I remembered, curves softened by time and motherhood.

She wasn't the shy, awkward girl from our early years anymore; she was a woman, her sensitivity heightened, every shiver and gasp a testament to how much she'd changed.

I could still see her, soaked and glistening, her dark hair plastered to her neck, her skin flushed with warmth and something deeper.

1 hadn't wanted her because of the drugs Christina slipped me, or some petty rivalry with Christopher.

No-it was simpler, purer, and far more dangerous.

I craved her, needed to feel her against me, to meld us into one until the years apart dissolved.

It wasn't just desire; it was a longing to know her again, to give her the pleasure she deserved, to see her unravel as a woman in my

arms.

That need had surged through me, raw and unstoppable, drowning out everything else.

She'd resisted at first, her hands pressing against my chest, her voice sharp with defiance.

said, her eyes flashing with a mix of panic and

didn't

slowly, tracing the lines of her arms, feeling the tension

lips found her jaw, brushing gently, tasting the salt

water.

like I was rediscovering her,

lips there, marveling at how even the

fingers grazing the damp fabric of her skirt, and I felt her tremble, her breath

every curve a revelation, and I wanted to worship her, to map her body with

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184: Memories in

"Sean..."

the steam, but I heard the shift-the protest fading

higher, slipping beneath her blouse, finding the well of her breasts. They were fuller now, heavy in

and lingering, then lower, tugging the fabric side to take her in my mouth. She

roamed her hips, her waist,

I could feel the heat radiating from her, the dampness seeping through her panties.

doubt in her eyes, but

Let

reverence, and she softened, her hands resting on

was tight, responsive,

her-mesmerized by the flush spreading across her chest, the way her lips parted. My thumb found her clit, circling gently, and she moaned louder, her fingers digging into

us, a quiet rhythm

waited, letting her set

unguarded, and I saw it: the surrender,

guiding her higher, my arousal

my voice trembling with the weight of

speak, but her breath hitched, and that was

inch by inch, the heat of her enveloping me. She

biting into my skin as I filled her,

a moment, we stilled, locked together, the sensation overwhelming her tightness, her

She lung to me, her moans soft at first,

each thrust.

my chest, and I held her close, my hands on her hips, guiding

down.