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.

stop it," she'd said, her eyes flashing with a mix of

I didn't rush

slowly, tracing the lines of her arms, feeling

jaw, brushing gently, tasting the

water.

kissed her like I was rediscovering her, patient and

round knees caught my attention-soft, perfect-and I knelt lower, pressing my lips there, marveling at how even the smallest parts of her seemed

grazing the damp fabric of her

her, to map her body with my hands and mouth until she couldn't deny

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184: Memories in

"Sean..."

voice was a whisper, fragile against the steam, but I heard the shift-the protest fading

breasts. They were fuller now, heavy in my palms, and when I teased her nipples with gentle strokes, she gasped, her head

and lingering, then lower, tugging the fabric side to take her in my mouth. She shuddered, a quiet moan escaping, and I felt her resistance

time, coaxing her open. My hands roamed her hips, her waist,

feel the heat radiating from her, the dampness seeping through her panties. I slid them aside, my fingers brushing her folds,

doubt in her eyes, but I murmured

Let me

steady, a plea wrapped in reverence, and she softened, her

with care. She was tight, responsive, her breath

hips rocked, tentative at first, then bolder, and I watched her-mesmerized by the flush spreading across her chest, the way her lips parted. My thumb found her clit, circling gently, and she

a quiet rhythm

I waited, letting her set

I saw it: the surrender, the

my arousal pressing against her

voice trembling with

didn't speak, but her breath hitched, and that was

inch by inch, the heat of her enveloping me.

I filled her,

her tightness, her pulse

gentle roll of my hips, drawing out the feeling. She lung to

each thrust.

rhythm, her breasts swaying against my chest,

down.