Olivia I look at the flickering candles and Liam’s glowing face. I already made a wish when
Simon had the restaurant bring out a small cake at the end of the meal, as he always does
on my birthday lunch. And every year, I’ve wished for the same thing: Let me bring justice
to all those who wronged my mother. But looking at Liam’s face, I don’t want to make that
wish again. I don’t know if making a new wish now is going to cancel out the earlier one.
But this year is different. And I don’t care. I blow out the candles. I want Liam to be happy
and have all that he desires. Wisps of smoke rise from the candle wicks, as though to
answer, Okay. I lift my eyes to his smiling face. This is the first time I’ve prayed for
something other than justice for my mom in the last twenty years. But I know I’ll never
regret making this particular wish. Exc ept... Confusion and apprehension drift over me,
leaving my skin chilled. My entire life purpose was to get justice for my mom and Pochi.
Liam was supposed to be a means to an end, a partner to have a respectable baby with so
nobody could question its legitimacy. But somehow he’s managing to inch up my priority
list, making me forget from time to time I have a bigger goal than just enjoying my marriage
until it ends. “What are you doing to me?” I whisper. “Something that every husband ought
to do for his wife,” he says. “And I’m celebrating someone worth celebrating.” “You’re too
good to me.” He cocks his head. “I don’t even believe in the supernatural, but sometimes... I
feel like Mom sent you to me.” Exc ept even if she did—the knot in my heart can
never loosen until I have my vengeance. His eyes light up. “I think that’s the sweetest thing
you’ve ever said.” He’s oblivious to the fact that he’s the sweet one, not me. I can’t even
begin to express this achy, buoyant sensation welling in my chest. I want to pretend it
doesn’t exist, but dragging in air hurts. I have to do something before it overwhelms me and
destroys all my judgment and control. Just enjoy the beautiful evening he put so much effort
into. Tomorrow is another day—a clean slate. I cup his cheek and kiss him. Feels like if I
don’t, my heart will burst. Liam opens up, taking my mouth eagerly while pulling me onto
his lap. He tastes like buttery wine and love—and a sweet dream I don’t dare believe in.
“Take me to bed,” I whisper before claiming his mouth again. He stands, lifting me easily,
our tongues tangling and my arms looped around his neck. He carries me inside and up the
stairs to our bedroom, my head spinning. He uses his lips, teeth and tongue, robbing my
sanity. When he kisses me like this, I want to forget everything and just live happily ever
after. Forget your revenge plan for tonight. It’s your birthday. This grand celebration is
worth etching into memory forever. My thighs hit the edge of the mattress and I fall on my
back. He props himself over me, looking down. This is our familiar routine—he teases and
worships my body until I can’t stand it anymore. Then he will spill himself inside me, filling
me while I clutch him breathlessly, trying to calm my racing heart and praying I get
pregnant soon. His hot palm glides from my hip to my thigh, but that isn’t what I want
tonight. I don’t want this to be about getting pregnant. I don’t want to think about the trust
or Hugh or Deena or Brielle. I just want to enjoy the moment —enjoy what I have with my
husband. I push myself up and place a hand on his shoulder. He looks at me, his eyes full of
questions. “Hey.” Using my free hand, I reach for his tie and loosen it. His eyes sparkling
with excitement, he gets rid of his cufflinks, tossing them somewhere on the floor, and
unbuttons his shirt with impatience. I kiss each square inch of revealed flesh. Can’t believe
I’ve never explored him properly until now. He’s stunning—all that expanse of taut skin
over
thickly defined muscles. Every time my lips brush over him, he jerks, his breath shallowing.
Triumph, power, and a languid warmth suffuse me. I pull the shirt out of his pants and work
on his belt. My fingers are slow and clumsy, and I realize I’ve never tried to undress him
before. His hands move toward my breasts, and I stop him. “Take off your pants,” I rasp,
impatient. I want to see him now. I press my mouth against his taut belly and run my tongue
along the de ep ridges. His six-pack is my favorite body part—or at least one of them. He
groans, his hands working fast to remove the belt. I pull down his slacks and underwear in
one rough motion and his cock springs out. Thick veins stand along the long, hard shaft.
The tip glistens, precum dripping still. I swipe the pad of my thumb over the head. He
shudders. “Jesus, Olivia.” I grip his pulsing cock in my fist and a wicked desire unfurls in my
belly. I run my tongue over the tip, slowly, then shift so I can look at him while tormenting
him. His eyes look like the Pacific at midnight, stormy with need. Veins stand out in his
arms as he curls his hands tight. I pull the head into my mouth and gently suck. “Olivia, you
shouldn’t—” Using my free hand, I lift my index finger to shush him. I want to do this. He’s
my present, even if he doesn’t know it yet. And I want to enjoy him thoroughly tonight. He
shakes, the weight of his gaze heavy on my face. I relax my jaw and take him de eper. His
fingers sink into my hair, my name like a prayer on his tongue. Tension grips his pelvis,
probably stopping the urge to thrust. I move my head up and down. Tremors run through
him. “Olivia, good God,” he moans, throwing his head back. His chest rises and falls fast
and hard. I love the rough sound of his breathing. Raw need simmers underneath his voice,
and I want to stoke it. I pull him de eper, until his cock is almost at the back of my throat.
Holding him, I love the way his cock pulses in my mouth with desire. His thigh muscles
twitch. I start moving faster, my cheeks hollowed. I want him to experience just a fraction of
the happiness he’s given me. I want him to know that if I were just a little braver, I might let
myself fall in love with him.
His fingers grip my hair tighter. My scalp stings a little. “Olivia, you can’t—I can’t—” I dig
my nails into his bare ass and squeeze, hollowing my cheeks further to increase the suction.
A helpless sound tears from his chest. I draw him even de eper into my throat. Tonight,
whether he likes it or not, he’s going to climax in my mouth.