Chapter 41
Chapter 41:
He brought both hands down against the shelves on either side of her head, caging her in. For a moment, the armor cracked.
“You are going to see him,” he said, the vulnerability bleeding through the anger. “I need to know you are coming back to me p>
Eliza looked into his eyes. She saw the jealousy burning there — bright and consuming. He wasn’t trying to control her for the sake of power. He was terrified that Anson still held something she hadn’t fully taken back.
“I am your wife, Dallas,” she whispered.
“Words,” he said.
He leaned in. He didn’t ask permission this time.
He kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. It was searing — hungry and desperate, the kiss of a man trying to breathe for someone else. He tasted of scotch and barely restrained fear.
Eliza gasped, and he used the opening to deepen the kiss, his mouth claiming every part of hers.
Her hands found his lapels. She meant to push him away. She genuinely meant to. But her fingers curled into the fabric and pulled him closer instead.
𝗧𝗁𝗲 𝗺oѕ𝘵 𝗽𝗈𝘱𝘶𝘭𝖺𝗿 no𝘷𝖾𝗅𝘴 oո ѕ.𝖼о𝘮
She kissed him back. Fueled by the anxiety of tomorrow, by weeks of walls and contracts and careful distance, she poured everything she had into it.
Dallas groaned — a deep sound that resonated in his chest and vibrated against her.
He lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back against the shelves. Her legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. His hand slid up her thigh, bunching the fabric of her skirt. His touch was hot and unhurried. As his fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, she felt him press something cool and foil-wrapped into her palm.
A condom. The message was unmistakable. No more pills.
“Dallas —” she breathed, breaking the kiss. “Not here p>
“Where?” he murmured against her lips, his mouth brushing the sensitive skin at the corner of hers. “The bedroom? Finally p>
Eliza looked at him. She was tired of fighting. Tired of the walls, tired of the careful distance she had built around herself like scaffolding around something that hadn’t needed it in a long time.
“Yes,” she said.
Dallas didn’t hesitate. He carried her down the hallway and kicked the bedroom door open with a crash.
The contract was burning to ash in her mind. Tonight, there were no clauses. There was only him.
Sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains and found Eliza’s face. She woke slowly, her body heavy and achingly tender in places she wasn’t accustomed to.
She was in Dallas’s bed.
The memories of the night came flooding back — the intensity, the way he had looked at her, the way his hands had moved over her, reverent and demanding at once.
She turned her head. Dallas was watching her. He was propped on one elbow, the sheet pooling at his waist, wearing an expression she had never seen on him before.
He looked satisfied. The tension that lived permanently in his shoulders was gone. The machine had been switched off, and a man remained in its place.
“Good morning, Mrs. Koch,” he said, his voice low and unhurried.