Chapter 159

That very night, Ben found himself tossing and turning in the expansive bed of his luxurious penthouse. The sheets felt like a prison, wrapping around him as his thoughts spiraled into chaos.

Meanwhile, Betsy stood by the window, her figure silhouetted against the vibrant city skyline. The cold glass pressed against her forehead, a stark contrast to the warmth of the memories flooding her mind. She had followed him home after parting ways with Isla and Gabriel, a decision that felt both reckless and inevitable.

His words reverberated in her mind like a haunting melody: “Marry me.” How could he utter such a life-altering proposal with such casual ease, as if it were merely another transaction in his world of influence and authority? Her heart twisted in knots, a tumult of confusion and an aching desire she had fought so hard to suppress.

Betsy had always kept her distance from men, erecting walls to shield her from emotions that threatened to creep in. She had sought the thrill of raw, unbridled intimacy—intense encounters that left her breathless and fulfilled—but nothing beyond that.

That’s precisely why she had allowed Ben to step into her life, beginning with that electrifying night at the club. The moment she caught a glimpse of his confident smile, she knew he was not the kind of man who would weave promises or expect commitments. Their arrangement had felt perfect: stolen moments of passion, devoid of questions or emotional entanglements.

But now, everything had unraveled. Their secret was laid bare, exposed to the world like an open wound. And the pregnancy—how had this happened? She had been diligent with her birth control, yet here she was, carrying his child, her body betraying her in the most profound and unexpected way.

Trapped in a web of vulnerability, she faced the prospect of a proposal for a loveless marriage—a cold, calculated arrangement to ensure his heir while her heart shattered in silence.

“I need you, Betsy,” his deep, husky voice sliced through her turbulent thoughts, sending a shiver cascading down her spine. His hands found her waist, tender yet possessive, pulling her back against his solid chest. The warmth radiating from him seeped through her thin nightshirt, igniting a familiar fire low in her belly, even as a storm raged within her.

“Please,” he whispered against her neck, his lips brushing against her sensitive skin, hot and insistent. A soft moan escaped her lips before she could even think to suppress it, her body instinctively arching into his touch, betraying her resolve.

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and unbidden, spilling down her cheeks like a silent confession. She loathed this—loathed the depth of her feelings for him, the way her very soul yearned for something more than the mere physical connection he offered. He didn’t love her; he craved her body, her submission, a means to fulfill his desires.

To him, she was merely a vessel for pleasure and convenience. Yet her traitorous body responded eagerly, her nipples hardening, her core clenching with an insatiable need.

Why did it have to be this way? Why did his mere presence unravel her so completely? She squeezed her eyes shut, allowing the tears to flow freely, each drop a silent plea for the love she yearned for but knew he would never provide.

Ben remained pressed against her, his breath ragged, his hands exploring her curves with a possessiveness that made her heart race. His fingers traced the swell of her hips, the gentle curve of her waist, sending electric shivers through her.

They traveled upward, cupping the fullness of her breasts, fitting perfectly in his large palms. He began with gentle squeezes, but soon his grip grew firmer, his thumbs rolling over her hardened nipples, pinching and tugging with deliberate strokes that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her body. Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly as arousal battled with the ache in her heart.

“I love how your body responds to my touch, Betsy,” he murmured, his lips nipping at her earlobe, his teeth grazing the soft flesh in a way that made her knees feel weak. His words wrapped around her like chains, stirring a tumult of desire and despair—his voice dripping with lust, yet devoid of the tenderness she so desperately craved.

“And if I were to be honest with you,” he continued, his tone darkening with hunger, even as his fingers continued their torment, twisting her nipples just enough to blend pleasure with pain.

His mouth moved to her neck, nipping at the tender skin, sucking hard enough to leave blooming hickeys—marks of ownership that would serve as a reminder of this moment long after it had passed.

Each bite pulled a gasp from her lips, her body trembling as her thighs instinctively squeezed together, desperate to alleviate the growing ache between them. He could feel it all, his hips grinding subtly against her backside, his hardened manhood pressing insistently through his pants.

More tears streamed down her face, soaking her cheeks as her chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. He could sense her racing heartbeat beneath his palms, the rapid thrum betraying her inner turmoil.

The erotic tension coiled tighter, thick and unspoken, her emotions a whirlwind of love, betrayal, and insatiable desire. She wanted to push him away, to scream her pain into the night, but the heat of his hands and his undeniable dominance held her captive.

“I feel like fucking you to sleep, right here in this position, right now,” he growled, his voice rough with restraint, breath hot against the back of her head. “But I need you to beg for it.”

The command hung in the air, charged with power, making her pulse quicken with forbidden need, even as fresh tears pooled and fell onto his hands, warm and salty against his skin.

“Fuck, Betsy,” he groaned, his grip tightening around her breasts, his cock twitching against her. “I’m not even inside you yet, and you’re already bringing out those tears?” His words melded amusement with raw desire, but they sliced through her, deepening the emotional chasm that lay between them.

She stood there, her body aflame, her heart breaking, the city’s indifferent glow bearing witness to her surrender to the man who possessed her physically but not her soul. The tension simmered, erotic and raw, begging for an escape she wasn’t sure she could offer without losing herself entirely.