Chapter 13
Brielle’s POV
The meal is delightful, each bite offering a symphony of flavors that surprises and enchants me. I relish the experience of sampling unfamiliar dishes, a rare indulgence that I never imagined restaurants might offer. But what makes it memorable isn’t just the food-it’s Tim. He’s attentive, charming, and perfect in every way, making me feel like I’m the center of his universe. As we head home afterward, a nervous energy pricks at me. The evening is still young, but the thought of being alone with my tumbling thoughts unsettles me.
When Tim suggests coffee, I immediately seize the chance to delay my return to the penthouse. His apartment is stunning, just as he’d promised, with a view that steals my breath. The city stretches before me, vibrant and alive, filled with contrasts and contradictions. Standing here makes me wish for this perspective instead of my own, though I can appreciate the beauty each view offers in its own
way.
A sharp pang in my stomach reminds me of the obvious-I need the bathroom. Maybe I shouldn’t have been that surprised; I had eaten more tonight than I have in months. Excusing myself, I wander toward the restroom but pass his bedroom door on the way. Curiosity brews within me, so I push it open and step inside. The space feels intimate and inviting, and I’m drawn to the window where the city unfurls below, bathed in soft light. The view here is just as mesmerizing, though my bladder quickly hijacks my thoughts, demanding attention.
I use the bathroom, the sharp scent of his aftershave lingering around me. As I sit, relief washing over me, my phone vibrates inexplicably. Pulling it out, I glance at the screen and freeze. The message comes from my father, accompanied by a photo of the family sitting down to dinner. My sister is there too, leaning close to Balen-my ex-husband-and they look far too cozy for comfort. The caption underneath stabs me in the chest: “He’s a bastard. It’s good you’ve left. Your sister is expecting.” The impact hits deep. Balen had always insisted he wasn’t ready for children, keeping me on birth control throughout our marriage. And now, here he was, stepping seamlessly into a new life-one I thought we might share.
Tears spill uncontrollably as the pain surges through me, sharp and unforgiving. I manage to respond to Dad’s message, though my heart feels hollow. There’s no use dwelling on things I can’t change now. After splashing water on my face to calm down, I step out of the bathroom, but embarrassment strikes anew when I find Tim leaning against the doorway. Tears still streak my cheeks, and the vulnerability makes me want to run home, hide, and cry myself to sleep. But at the same time, I’m grateful for Tim’s presence-he’s my anchor tonight.
What happens next surprises me most of all. Unable to resist the comfort he offers, I walk toward him and rest my head against his chest. His arms wrap around me, strong and protective, and for a moment, the chaos inside me starts to quiet. When my tears finally subside, Tim breaks the silence by offering coffee again. But when I look up at him and catch the warmth in his gaze, something shifts within me. Without fully intending to, I lean in and brush my lips softly against his.
The kiss is gentle, almost hesitant, but it’s exactly what I need-a fleeting escape, a moment of solace. Before I can process how it happens, we’re sitting on the edge of his bed, the air thickening with unspoken desire. Tim deepens the kiss, his tongue grazing my lips as though asking permission, and I respond in kind, pulling him into a dance that feels electric and alive. Every touch ignites something primal and urgent within me-an overwhelming need to be wanted, to feel loved.
I slip my hands under his shirt, pushing it up and over his head. His chest is sculpted, every detail begging attention, and I let my fingers trace over his abs before moving downward to the waistband of his pants. His hand intercepts mine, stopping me just as I prepare to undo them.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his tone as gentle as his touch. It’s clear he understands how fragile this
moment feels.
“I need this,” I whisper, my voice trembling but insistent. “Please.”
He pulls away briefly, standing to remove his pants. My breath catches-the sight of him stirs something deeper, stronger, a longing I can’t ignore. Slowly, he strips away my clothes, his hands careful and deliberate, as though giving me every chance to change my mind. But I don’t. Not tonight.
Tim takes a condom from the nightstand and slips it on. There’s hesitation in his eyes, an unspoken question lingering, but I offer no sign of regret-just quiet reassurance. He climbs back onto the bed, leaning beside me, his lips seeking mine while his hand travels down my body. When his fingers find the place between my thighs, he murmurs with approval.
“So wet already.”
A gasp escapes me as he explores further, teasing the sensitive skin and flicking the spot that sends shivers through me. My body responds instinctively, squirming under his touch until the need becomes unbearable. He pulls his hand away to position himself, the tip of him gliding along the slickness he’s stirred. Slowly, he presses into me, filling me with a sensation so intense it borders on pain before melting into pleasure.
I arch my back, absorbing his rhythm as he starts to move-slow, deliberate strokes that make my body react with every thrust. Each time he pulls out, the anticipation coils tighter within me, and when he pushes back in, I meet his movement with rising urgency. My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him in deeper, and when I reach my peak, the release tears through me, leaving me trembling and breathless.
Tim doesn’t stop, his pace increasing as sweat glistens on his chest. His breathing grows heavier, his focus unwavering. Somehow, my body rises again, a second climax barreling toward me, crashing over me with even greater force than the first. My cries echo through the room as Tim reaches his own pinnacle, his body shuddering with the intensity of his release.
He slows until his movements cease entirely, rolling off me but pulling me close into an embrace that feels safe and grounding. His arms hold me tightly, and for the first time in forever, I feel sheltered from the world’s chaos.
The questions begin to trickle in, buzzing faintly at the edge of my mind. Should I feel bad about this? Will guilt catch up with me tomorrow? Will Tim regret any of this? These are weights I’ll wrestle with in the morning, but right now, I let them fall away.
What matters most is the contentment I feel as I lie in his arms, warm and whole. This peace is something I’ve been missing for too long, and as my thoughts fade, sleep comes effortlessly. For the first time in ages, I feel complete.
