Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 69: Be Careful

Sarah

"Matthew!" I gasp as he leans down and bites my shoulder from behind.

What is he even doing? Is he just trying to annoy me now?

I hear him chuckle behind me, then feel his arms wrap around me.

I can’t decide if I’m annoyed or...flustered. It’s definitely unexpected, and I’m not sure what he’s trying to achieve, but the teasing, the suddenness of it all, catches me off guard.

I can feel him smiling against my skin as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me back slightly against his chest. His warmth, the way his presence surrounds me, is familiar and unsettling at the same time.

"What are you doing?" I demand.

He doesn’t answer right away, just nuzzles into my neck, his breath warm against my skin. "Just trying to get a rise out of you," he mutters, his voice low, amused.

I roll my eyes, trying to pull away, but his hold on me is firm. "You are impossible," I mutter, but there’s a small part of me that can’t help but soften at his touch. "You’re not funny."

He chuckles again, the sound vibrating through his chest, making it impossible to stay entirely irritated with him.

I can feel his fingers tracing lightly along my waist, the touch gentle but deliberate.

"Let go of me," I try again.

"No," he growls. "I want to fuck you."

I shiver and not from the water that’s cooling down. "I am tired."

"And I have needs," he says.

"Your needs are what got me pregnant," I remind him.

"So fucking what? That doesn’t mean I should stop fucking you. Your body belongs to me, remember? If you don’t remember, I will be delighted to remind you," he snarls.

His words are meant to hurt me, I know, but I keep my chin up. "I’m growing a human being inside me. Doesn’t that earn me a night off?"

"No," he says simply.

And just like that, I find myself being carried to bed. He didn’t even give me time to dry off.

He drops me on the bed carelessly and then hovers over me, paying no mind to how our bodies are soaking the sheets.

"Matthew," I protest, pushing against his chest. "The sheets—"

"I don’t care about the fucking sheets," he says, his eyes dark with desire as he pins my wrists above my head with one hand.

His free hand slides down my body, lingering over the slight curve of my belly before moving lower. I gasp, arching despite myself.

"See?" he murmurs against my ear. "Your mouth says no, but your body..." He traces circles against my skin. "Your body always tells the truth."

I turn my face away, unwilling to let him see how easily he affects me. "The doctor said—"

"What?" he says darkly.

"The doctor says we should be careful during the first trimester. That...we shouldn’t have...um...rough sex."

Matthew’s expression shifts, and I see his eyes soften a bit. He loosens his grip on my wrists slightly, his eyes searching mine.

"What else did the doctor say?" he asks, his voice still husky but with an edge of restraint now.

I swallow, surprised by his reaction. "That we can still be intimate, just... gentler. At least until the second trimester."

He releases my wrists completely and props himself up on his elbows, his body still hovering over mine but no longer pressing down with his full weight.

"Is that right?" he asks, brushing a strand of wet hair from my face.

"Yes," I breathe.

"Fine," he says. "I will be gentle tonight."

His eyes meet mine, and the blueness in them takes my breath away. "Spread your legs wider," he rasps.

I find myself doing it without question as he scoots down.

What is he...

I gasp as he dips his head and licks along my slit.

I grip the sheets beneath me, my back arching involuntarily as pleasure shoots through my body. Matthew’s tongue is relentless, circling and teasing until my protests dissolve into breathless moans.

"Matthew," I gasp, my fingers finding their way into his damp hair.

He hums against me, the vibration sending another wave of sensation through my core. His hands slide up to hold my hips steady as I squirm beneath him.

He takes his time, savoring me slowly, deliberately. It’s torture of the sweetest kind. When I’m trembling and desperate, he finally moves back up my body, hovering over me with those intense blue eyes.

"Gentle enough?" he asks, his voice strained with restraint.

I nod, unable to form words as he positions himself between my legs. He enters me slowly, watching my face with unusual care. The tenderness in his movements surprises me, so different from his earlier aggression.

"Is this okay?" he whispers, and the question catches me off guard. Matthew rarely asks. He always takes.

"Yes," I breathe, wrapping my legs around him.

He moves with careful, measured thrusts, his forehead pressed against mine. One hand cradles my head while the other rests protectively over my stomach. The gesture is so unexpectedly intimate that tears spring to my eyes.

"Sarah," he groans, his rhythm steady but restrained. "You feel so good."

I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation of him inside me, around me.

When release comes, it washes over me in gentle waves rather than the usual crashing storm. Matthew follows shortly after, his body tensing above mine before he carefully rolls to the side, pulling me against him.

We lie there in silence, our breathing gradually slowing.

"I’ll get new sheets," he murmurs against my hair, but makes no move to get up.

I nestle against his chest, savoring the rare moment of tenderness.

"Thank you," I whisper.

His fingers trace lazy patterns along my spine. "For what?"

"For..." I hesitate, not wanting to break whatever spell has fallen over us. "For being gentle."

Matthew is quiet for so long, I wonder if he has fallen asleep.

"I am not a goddamn monster, Sarah," he says.

"I know," I whisper.

His arm tightens around me, and I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head. It is such a simple gesture, but it makes my heart ache.

"Sleep," he says softly.