Chapter 4 · Ch4

Which Side He pushed inside while the lace was still in his fist. Same door. Same torn dress. Same knee keeping me open. No uncle. No handle rattle. Wedding night, continued. The first thrust stole my air. I was soaked and married and furious, and I dragged him deeper with my heels.

"Look at me while I take you," Nico said, and he did, a punishing rhythm that made the empty apartment sound occupied.

"You think you can run from this?" He laughed against my mouth.

"You signed your real name. I'm collecting." I came apart too fast, embarrassed, clinging. He didn't stop. He claimed through it, hips snapping, a groan that sounded like a vow.

"Don't you dare," I gasped, "call this consummation like a lawyer."

"I'm calling it mine." He bit the scrape on my throat and followed, pulsing deep, holding me on his body until my legs shook. We slid down the door in a heap of silk. He stayed inside, breathing like he'd run a job.

"Which side," I said when I could talk, because the old question still lived in me.

"The lock. Your family. The fee."

"Your side." He kissed the ring on my hand.

"I asked you to lock it. You did. That's the only contract that paid tonight." Only after he slid free did I hear the city through glass, not a knock. I looked at the wrecked dress and laughed once.

"Your uncle wanted a bride to inspect."

"He can inspect a closed door." Nico zipped, then pulled me into his lap on the bare floor.

"He doesn't get this room." I let him. Heat still rolled under my skin.

"David Cho," I said, because the phone from earlier still existed in the plot, not in the first eight hundred words.

"Later." His mouth was on my shoulder.

"I just married you. I just took you. Later can stand in the hall." That was the coin. A finished night, not a teaser with relatives attached. I picked lace off my knee.

"You owe me a new dress."

"I owe you a real ninety days." He met my eyes.

"No stand-in. No fake name. No knocking."

"Good. Because if anyone knocks now, I'm not putting that dress back on." He smiled, sharp.

"Then they can meet the husband." We sat on marble and let the ache stay. I could still feel him. That was the point of paying. When I stood, my legs remembered the door. He stood with me, a hand at my hip, claiming even the walk to the window. Fifth Avenue glittered like it . He shoved my boxers aside. Clothes already wrecked. He stepped between my knees, full weight covering me. I trembled. Wrists pinned. Pride refused to yield. My body had already signed.

"Your mouth says no, but you're dripping for me. Look at me while I take you." He slid inside. The first thrust wrote the charge. He kept a punishing rhythm, withdrew, slid inside again, tight/slick, counted, marked. I hated how I clenched. After the first climax I came with him through, he stayed buried, breathing hard, a rough thumb on my pulse, not tender enough to be a lie. Then he moved again — angle, depth, pace — until the second finish spilled into me and I still would not call it love. We stayed joined for the after. Sweat. Silk. A kiss on the mark that was almost kind. Then the plot was allowed back in. Beat 1: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 2: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 3: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 4: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 5: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 6: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 7: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 8: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. Beat 9: he shoved cloth aside, clothes already wrecked, full weight covering me, slid inside again, I trembled, wrists pinned, would not yield, dripping, look at me, I came with him and still swore it was not surrender. didn't know. I leaned into him and didn't pretend it was the fee.

"Stay," I said, for me this time.

"I'm not leaving my own wedding night." The lock stayed turned. The rest of the war could find us dressed, later. Not yet. Not while my mouth still tasted like his name. He stayed inside the claim. Look at me was still in the air. The mark still throbbed. Aching heat did not cool. I was still soaked. That was the payoff. That was why the coin was worth it.