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.
flashing with a mix
I didn't
my hands move slowly, tracing the lines of her arms, feeling
brushing gently, tasting the salt
water.
rediscovering her, patient and deliberate, savoring
pressing my lips there, marveling at
hands slid up her thighs, fingers grazing the damp fabric
worship her, to map her body with my hands and mouth until she couldn't
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Memories in
"Sean..."
fragile against the steam, but
blouse, finding the well of her breasts. They were fuller now, heavy in my palms, and when I teased her
her neck, slow and lingering, then lower, tugging the fabric side to take her in my mouth.
hips, her waist,
dampness seeping through her panties. I slid them aside, my
tensed, a flicker of doubt in her eyes, but
Angie. Let me feel
in reverence, and she softened,
slowly, one finger slipping inside, then another, stretching her with care. She was tight, responsive, her breath quickening as I curled my touch against that sensitive
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 beneath
waited, letting her
eyes met mine, dark and unguarded, and I saw it: the
shifted, guiding her higher, my arousal
I whispered, my voice trembling
speak, but her breath hitched, and that was
inch, the heat of
into my skin as I filled her, her body
together, the sensation overwhelming her tightness,
a gentle roll of my hips, drawing out the feeling. She lung to me,
each thrust.
chest,
down.
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