Chapter 478 The Offer
Delia’s POV
Elliot found me when I was alone.
Not at Noah’s house, or a room with staff. A private lounge he had booked like it was nothing, the kind of quiet place men used when they did not want their names on a reservation list. I should have walked out the second I saw him standing there with a drink in his hand and that smile that never reached his eyes.
I did not walk out.
“Delia,” he said, like my name already belonged in his mouth. “Come here.”
“I am not your wife.”
“No. You are my son’s. That is what makes this interesting.”
He set the glass down and crossed the room without hurry. I hated that my body noticed him. Older than Noah. Harder. The same bloodline in the face and none of the softness Noah still carried when he looked at me.
“You look unhappy,” he said.
“I look busy.”
“You look like a woman who married the wrong Vesper.” His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Julian had more money. More name. More of the life you wanted. Don’t lie to me and say you don’t still taste that loss.”
“I have Noah.”
“You have a contract and a boy who still asks permission to want you.” He stopped close enough that I smelled his cologne. “I can make you the richest woman in this city. Not the leftover. Not the sister who got the second son. The one on top.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Work with me. Help me put Julian and Katia where they belong. Under us.” His voice dropped. “And if you agree to sleep with me, I will show you what power feels like when it is not pretending to be kind.”
I should have slapped him, but I stood there.
He lifted a hand and brushed my hair behind my ear like I was something pretty he had already paid for. Then his fingers slid down, over my collarbone, into the neckline of my blouse. He found my nipple through the thin bra and pinched.
The sound I made was not a no.
“There she is,” he murmured. “Sweet girl. You can say you hate me with your mouth. Your tit just told me the truth.”
He pinched again, harder, twisting until heat shot between my legs. My back hit the wall before I understood he had walked me into it. His body came with me. One thigh pushed between mine. His cock was already hard and thick behind his trousers, pressed right against my cunt through two layers of fabric.
He rolled his hips once.
“Feel that?” he said against my cheek. “That is what a man feels like when he is not trying to be good for you. Noah fucks you like he is grateful. I would fuck you like I own the debt.”
“You are his father.”
“I know.” He dry-humped me slowly, dragging the hard line of his dick against my clit. “That is why you are wet. Don’t shake your head. I can feel the heat through your skirt. Little traitor pussy, getting ready for the wrong Vesper.”
His mouth found my neck. He kissed, then bit, then kissed the sting. His hand stayed on my breast, thumb rubbing the nipple he had already made sore.
“Say my name.”
“Elliot.”
“Good girl.” Another roll of his hips. “If you work with me, the Windsors become a story people tell about the family that lost. You and I become the ones they look at. Biggest name in the country. Katia can keep her stolen husband. You can have the man who actually knows how to use a woman.”
“This is sick.”
“This is honest.” He caught my other nipple and pinched that one too, both peaks trapped between his fingers while he ground against me. “You spent two years playing wife to a man who never wanted you. Then you signed a paper with my son. Poor Delia. Always the stand-in. I can take you off the bench.”
I grabbed his wrist. I did not pull it away. He smiled into my skin.
“There. That is the part I like. You want to be decent. Your body wants to be ruined.”
He kissed me. I did not push him off.
His mouth was nothing like Noah’s. Hungrier. Dirtier. He licked into me like he had time and no guilt. I tasted whiskey and heat and the wrongness of it, and for a few seconds I kissed him back because my cunt was throbbing against the hard press of his cock and I wanted, God help me, to know how it would feel if he shoved that skirt up and took me on this wall.
Then I broke the kiss.
I turned my face away, breathing hard, lips wet.
“I can’t.”
“You can.” He did not step back. He kept me pinned, dick still snug against me, one hand still cupping my breast. “You just haven’t said yes yet. Think about it, sweetheart. Think about my son’s bed. Then think about mine. One of those rooms makes you a wife on paper. The other one makes you a woman who gets what she actually wants.”
He kissed the corner of my mouth, light, almost sweet.
“I will not force the rest tonight. I want you walking home wet, wondering how your father-in-law’s cock would feel splitting you open. That question will do more work than any contract.”
He let go of my nipple last, a final pinch that made my knees dip.
Then he stepped back like the whole thing had been a meeting.
“Go home to Noah,” he said. “Kiss him if you want. You will still taste me.”
I left with my blouse crooked and my underwear ruined.
In the car I sat with both hands on the wheel and did not start the engine. My nipples ached. My mouth still knew his. I should have been disgusted enough to call Noah and tell him everything.
I was disgusted.
I was also soaked.
And the worst part was not the wall, or the kiss, or the way he had dry-humped me like I already belonged to him.
The worst part was that I had not said no.