Seven

His hands were everywhere—rough, demanding, sliding over my skin as if they owned it. They gripped my breasts, fingers digging into the soft flesh, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp. My nipples were already stiff, aching under his touch, and when he pinched them between his fingers, rolling and tugging, a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through me. Heat pooled low in my stomach, my body responding to him as if it were wired to his every move.

I didn’t waste time. My hands fumbled with his suit, yanking at the jacket until it slid off his shoulders and hit the floor with a muffled thud. His tie came next, loosened and tossed aside, followed by his shirt, buttons popping open as I dragged it down his arms. His chest was bare now, muscles taut and inviting, and I couldn’t resist running my hands over him, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms.

I pushed him back onto the bed, and he went willingly, his eyes dark and hungry as they raked over me. The way he looked at me—like he wanted to devour me—sent a shiver down my spine. I dropped to my knees, my fingers trembling as I worked on his belt, then the button of his pants. I pulled them down, inch by inch, until they were tangled around his ankles, and he kicked them off impatiently.

He reached for me then, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me down onto the bed with him. In one fluid motion, he flipped me onto my back, his body pressing into mine, heavy and insistent. His mouth found my nipple through the thin fabric of my lingerie, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucked hard, the wet heat making me arch into him. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair, holding him there as he teased me relentlessly.

His other hand slipped under the strap of my bra, fingers deftly unhooking the clasp. The fabric fell away, baring me to him completely, and he didn’t waste a second. His mouth moved to my other nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he bit down gently, just enough to make me cry out. His free hand roamed lower, skimming over my stomach, my hips, and then between my thighs, where I was already wet and aching for him.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling as his fingers brushed against me, teasing but refusing to give me what I so desperately needed. He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down my spine, his breath hot against my skin as he sucked harder, his teeth grazing my nipple. The tension inside me coiled tighter, a relentless ache building in the pit of my stomach. I needed more—needed him—and I wasn’t going to wait any longer.

His hand slid down to my pussy, and my breath hitched as he tugged my panties off, his fingers immediately finding my clit. He massaged it in slow, deliberate circles, and I moaned his name, my hips arching into his touch. “Faster,” I begged, and he obliged, his fingers flicking faster and faster until I came undone, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crashed over me. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to feel him, all of him.

As if sensing my need, he moved to his nightstand, grabbing a condom and tearing it open with practiced ease. He rolled it onto his cock, his eyes locked on mine as he positioned himself between my legs. Just as he was about to enter me, his phone rang.

“Ignore it,” I cooed, my voice soft but insistent, my hands gripping his shoulders to pull him back to me. He hesitated, then nodded, his attention returning to me. But as soon as he began to push inside me, his phone rang again. This time, he stopped completely, pulling away and standing up in one swift motion. He grabbed his boxers and pulled them on, his face tense as he answered the call.

I lay there, stunned, my body still throbbing with need as he muttered something into the phone, his back turned to me. When he hung up, he didn’t even look at me. Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Can we do this some other time?” he asked, his voice casual, almost dismissive, as if I were nothing more than a booty call.

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. “I don’t understand, Luke. It’s our wedding night,” I replied, my voice rising in frustration. How could he act like this was just some casual fling?

“I know,” he said, his tone annoyingly calm. “But I have to send three emails to five different companies immediately. This could mean something big for me, Janice. Something life-changing.”

I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. “Don’t they know you just got married? Don’t they understand you’re on your honeymoon?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I didn’t tell them.”

My jaw dropped. “What do you mean you didn’t tell them?” I asked, my anger bubbling to the surface. “How do you expect them to give you leave for our honeymoon if they don’t even know we’re married?”

He turned to face me, his expression incredulous, as if I were the one being unreasonable. “I never said there was going to be a honeymoon,” he replied, his voice sharp. “And you know how badly I need this promotion. For goodness’ sake, Janice, why are you being so goddamn selfish? This could change our lives!"

I let out a bitter laugh, my frustration boiling over. “Selfish? I’m being selfish? I spent the entire day yesterday doing grocery shopping with Sandra, getting everything ready for us to start our life together as a couple. All I’m asking for is one night with the man I love, and you’re acting like I’m asking for the moon!”

“Janice, you’re raising your voice,” he said, rolling his eyes as if I were some petulant child. “Please return to your room. And for the record, you’re not doing anything you weren’t supposed to be doing. After all, I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I? Mrs. Janice Francisco Casper,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned back to his laptop.

I stormed out of the room, my chest heaving with anger and hurt. I went back to my room, slamming the door behind me before collapsing onto the bed. The tears came then, hot and uncontrollable, as I replayed the night in my mind. I tried calling Andra, but her line was busy. After what felt like hours of crying, I finally looked down at my ring, the symbol of a marriage that already felt like a mistake.

“I’m married,” I whispered to myself, trying to find some comfort in the words. “That should be enough.” But it wasn’t. It wasn’t nearly enough.

I got up, discarding the sheets, and stepped into the shower. The warm water washed over me, but it did little to ease the ache in my chest. I sobbed quietly, letting the water drown out the sound of my tears. When I finally stepped out, I wrapped myself in a robe and grabbed a hairdryer, sitting in front of the mirror as I tried to dry my hair.

My reflection stared back at me, my eyes shadowed with dark circles, my face pale and drawn. I groaned, frustration bubbling up as the reality of the situation hit me all over again. It was my wedding night, and I was still a virgin. The thought made me want to scream.

But it wasn’t just about tonight. It was about everything—the competition, the contract, the sacrifices.

IAS Publishers. had been our dream. Right after college, Layden and I had landed a contract with the biggest publishing firm in all of New York. It was a chance of a lifetime, but they only wanted one of us. We had to compete, and I had been terrified. I wanted to win, but I knew Layden wanted it just as much.

When I won, it felt like the world was at my feet—a billion-dollar contract, a house, a private car. But Layden’s devastation cut deeper than any victory could soothe. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, of us falling apart because of this. So, I did the unthinkable: I declined the job, and they offered the contract to Layden instead. It was supposed to fix everything, but it only made things worse.

My parents hated him for it. They said he was holding me back, that I had thrown away my future for someone who didn’t deserve it. Andra constantly accused him of ruining my life. But I loved Layden. He was my world, and I didn’t want anything to come between us. Not then, and not now.

I was going to apologize to him tomorrow—formally, sincerely. I had to make him understand that I didn’t regret my choice, even if it had cost me everything. Even if it had cost us everything.

For now, though, I needed something—anything—to get this whole mess out of my mind. Ice cream. Yes, ice cream would do. I quickly pulled my hair into a ponytail, slipped on my slippers, and made my way downstairs to the kitchen.

I wasn’t expecting to see him there, hunched over his laptop on the counter, the blue glow of the screen illuminating his face. I paused, hesitating for a moment before whispering a soft, “Hey.” He didn’t look up. It was as if I hadn’t even walked in. His fingers continued tapping away, his focus unwavering

I bit my lip, torn between saying something more and just letting it go. In the end, I chose the latter. I moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a bucket of vanilla and mint ice cream. I set it on the counter, grabbed a spoon, and opened the lid, the cold sweetness calling to me like a lifeline.

I added chunks of chocolate and crushed cookies, mixing them into the ice cream with a childlike glee. The first spoonful was heaven—creamy, cold, and exactly what I needed to push the nightmares away. I took another scoop, then another, savoring each bite.

“Is this all you do when I’m not around, Janice?” His voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold.

I froze, the spoon halfway to my mouth. Slowly, I turned to face him. His eyes were locked on me, dark and unreadable.

“You claim to have gone grocery shopping yesterday for us, but it’s really just for this, isn’t it?” He gestured to the ice cream, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Stuffing yourself with junk while I’m out there working my ass off. Aren’t you even ashamed?”

The ice cream turned bitter in my mouth. I set the spoon down, my hands trembling. “Lay, I—”

“Look at Andra,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “She’s a model, Janice. She has the body of a goddess. Do you think she sits around all day eating and doing nothing? What do you even bring to this relationship?”

His words hit like a punch to the gut. I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white. “That’s not fair,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You don’t get to compare me to her.”

“Why not?” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because it’s true? You think I don’t notice how you’ve let yourself go? How you expect me to just… take care of everything while you do nothing?”

Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry if I’ve been… if I’ve been selfish. But tonight was supposed to be about us, Lay! About our wedding. And instead, you’re here, working, and I’m just… I’m just trying to get through it.”

He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “Oh, so now it’s my fault? Because I’m trying to provide for us? Even though it's gonna cost me not giving you enough attention? Get over yourself, Janice.”

I flinched, his words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. “I’m not asking for much,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just… a little understanding. A little kindness. Is that too much to ask?”

For a moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then he turned back to his laptop, his dismissal as final as a door slamming shut. “Goodnight, Janice.”

I stood there, frozen, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a stone. Finally, I put the ice cream away, my appetite gone. As I climbed the stairs back to my bedroom, the tears came, hot and unstoppable. I curled up in bed, clutching the pillow to my chest, and let the silence swallow me whole.

Tomorrow, I would apologize. Tomorrow, I would make him understand. But for now, all I could do was cry.