Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 46: Good Mood

Sarah

For a moment, I don’t know how to respond.

But I slowly relax into his embrace, my body molding against his warmth. If he’s cold, I don’t feel it. If anything, he radiates heat.

I take a shaky breath, letting my fingers lightly graze his naked back. "You don’t feel cold to me," I whisper.

He exhales against my hair, his arms tightening slightly. "Then maybe you’re warm enough for both of us."

I want to say something, but I don’t want to break whatever fragile moment this is between us. So I just close my eyes and let myself sink into it.

Minutes pass in silence, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling me into a sense of calm I haven’t felt in a long time.

Matthew shifts slightly, his grip on me never loosening. His breath is warm against my forehead, steady and even, but I can tell he’s still awake.

"Go to sleep, Sarah," he says.

"I am sleeping," I joke.

He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating against my skin. "Liar," he murmurs, his fingers tracing absent patterns along my spine.

"I can’t," I finally admit, my voice barely audible even in the quiet room. "My mind won’t stop."

Matthew pulls back just enough to look down at me.

"What’s keeping you awake?" he asks.

"Everything," I whisper. "Nothing. I don’t know." I press my forehead against his chest, hiding my face. "It’s like my thoughts are too loud."

His hand finds my hair, fingers threading gently through the strands. "Tell me one," he says.

I swallow hard, my heart beating faster.

I close my eyes, pressing closer to him. "Just wondering why you are being so nice to me."

For a moment, Matthew goes still. His fingers pause their gentle exploration of my hair, and I wonder if I’ve said too much and ruined the moment between us.

He is going to push me away and be mean to me again, isn’t he?

"Hmm...I guess I am in a good mood tonight," he murmurs.

I feel his chest rise with a deep breath, and then he resumes stroking my hair, his touch so gentle it makes my throat tight with unexpected emotion.

I almost don’t believe him. Matthew isn’t the kind of person who’s just randomly in a "good mood." Not when it comes to me.

Still, I don’t press him on it. I’m too afraid that if I do, this moment—whatever it is—will slip through my fingers like sand.

So I just nod against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing soothe the storm inside my head.

"You should take advantage of it while it lasts," he says, his voice carrying a teasing edge, but there’s something softer underneath.

I let out a small huff of laughter. "I think I already am."

His fingers pause for a beat before they continue their slow, absentminded tracing along my spine.

The darkness of the room wraps around us like a cocoon, and in this sheltered space, I feel bolder than I’ve ever been with him. My heart thunders against my ribs, each beat sending waves of heat through my body. Without overthinking, I tilt my face upward, letting my lips brush against the smooth skin of his collarbone.

He tastes like salt and something uniquely him—something that makes my head swim and my thoughts blur at the edges. I feel his sharp intake of breath, the way his body tenses momentarily before relaxing into my touch.

I let my lips drift lower to his chest.

"Sarah," he whispers, but his hand cradles the back of my head, not pushing me away but holding me closer.

I don’t say anything. Instead, I let my mouth travel across the plane of his chest, feeling the thundering of his heart beneath my lips. Each kiss is light and questioning, my breath creating goosebumps in its wake. His scent fills my lungs, making me dizzy with want.

My tongue darts out, tasting the hollow of his throat, and I feel rather than hear the groan that rumbles through him. His fingers tighten in my hair, sending shivers down my spine that pool like liquid heat in my belly.

My lips find his nipple, and I feel him freeze beneath me. My tongue circles the hardened peak, tentative at first, then with growing confidence. When I close my lips around him and suck gently, the sound he makes—half groan, half my name—sends liquid fire through my veins.

"Sarah," he says again, his voice strained, almost unrecognizable. "What are you—"

I can feel his erection press against me.

My hand slides down his chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath my fingertips. When I reach the waistband of his boxers, I pause, giving him time to object.

He doesn’t.

Instead, his lips find my forehead, pressing a kiss there that feels almost worshipful. The tenderness of it nearly undoes me.

I press my lips to his, tentatively at first, then with growing hunger as he responds, his mouth moving against mine with an urgency that steals my breath. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I open willingly to him, moaning softly as he deepens the kiss.

His hands are everywhere—in my hair, trailing down my spine, gripping my hip to pull me closer.

His hands slide down to my waist, his fingers pressing into my skin with just enough pressure to make me gasp against his mouth.

His boxers are still between us, a thin barrier that feels like torture. I hook my fingers into the waistband, tugging impatiently, and he lifts his hips just enough to help me slide them down his legs. When he kicks them away, we’re skin to skin, and the sensation is overwhelming—his heat, his hardness, all of him pressed against me.

"Matthew," I breathe, my hands traveling over his chest as I straddle him.

His eyes find mine in the darkness, luminous and intense.

"Ride me," he commands quietly.

I lift myself up, hovering above him. My thighs tremble slightly, not from fear but from the electric anticipation coursing through my veins. The cool night air kisses my skin where our bodies no longer touch, making me shiver.

I reach between us, my fingers wrapping around his length. He’s hot and hard in my palm, pulsing with each heartbeat.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, I lower myself onto him.

The sensation of him entering me pulls a gasp from my lips, my body fluttering around him. Matthew’s hands grip my hips, not guiding, just steadying, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against my skin.

His eyes are half-lidded, dark with desire, but he remains still beneath me, letting me set the pace.

I sink down another inch, feeling him fill me in a way that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. When I finally take him to the hilt, I stay there, savoring the fullness, the perfect joining of our bodies. My hands splay across his chest for balance, feeling the thunderous beating of his heart beneath my palms.

I begin to move, a gentle rocking at first, my body learning the rhythm it craves. Each movement sends ripples of pleasure through me, building slowly like a tide coming in.

We’ve never done it like this. Each time we had sex, Matthew was the one in control. He is the one always taking me. But this time, I am the one setting the pace.

And it’s intoxicating—this power, this control. Matthew’s eyes never leave mine as I rock against him, his gaze so intense it feels like another touch on my skin.

"That’s it," he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint. "Just like that."

I circle my hips experimentally, and the change in angle makes both of us gasp. His hands slide up my sides, cupping my breasts through my nightgown, thumbs brushing over my nipples in a way that sends electricity down my spine.

I arch into his touch, my movements becoming less controlled, more desperate as pleasure builds inside me. My thighs begin to tremble with the effort of rising and falling, and Matthew must sense it because his hands return to my hips, helping to guide me now.

"You feel so good," he says, the words tumbling out like he can’t hold them back. "Sarah, God—"

Hearing my name on his lips like that—like a prayer, like something sacred—pushes me closer to the edge. I lean forward, changing the angle again, my hair falling around us like a curtain. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s all heat and hunger, swallowing my moans as I move faster.

One of his hands slides between us, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, and the touch is almost too much. I break the kiss with a gasp, my head falling back as pleasure coils tighter inside me.

"Matthew, I’m going to—"

"I know," he says, his voice strained. "Let go, Sarah. I’ve got you."

His words, the gentle pressure of his fingers, the fullness of him inside me—it all crashes over me at once. My body tightens around him as waves of pleasure wash through me, leaving me trembling and breathless.

Matthew groans, his hips bucking up to meet mine as he follows me over the edge, his release hot inside me. His arms wrap around me as I collapse against his chest, both of us breathing hard, hearts racing in tandem.

For long minutes, we just lie there, tangled together, my face pressed into the crook of his neck. His hands stroke lazily up and down my back, and I can feel his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my cheek.

"Well," he finally says, his voice a rumble I can feel against my skin, "that was definitely taking advantage of my good mood."