Still, he didn't stop. Not until her body was trembling, her breath ragged, and her thighs twitching from the aftershocks.
Only then did he stand up, eyes gleaming, mouth glistening with evidence of her undoing. Without a word, he shoved his pants down in one impatient motion, and just like that—he was bare and thick with need.
Eva's eyes widened slightly, and she bit her lower lip.
"Alex…" she warned again, though even she wasn't sure what she was warning him about anymore.
He lined himself up and entered her in one deep, glorious stroke—and the sound that came from his chest was nothing short of primal.
"Fuuuuck…" he groaned, as he gripped her thighs. "You feel… nice."
Eva let out a breathless laugh. "Nice? Seriously? That's the word you're going with?"
He thrust again, and she yelped—pleasure shooting up her spine.
Her thoughts scrambled, caught between bliss and disbelief. How had she gone from mourning her past to being ravished on her breakfast table by a man she barely knew?
Was it too fast? Absolutely.
Did she care right now? Fuck, no!
As he moved within her with increasing intensity, whispering things that made her toes curl and her mind fog, Eva knew she wouldn't regret this moment.
She would analyze it later. Probably hate herself a little.
But for now, she just let go.
And let him take her all the way there.
He moved in and out of her with a rhythm that made time irrelevant, changing angles. Over and over. Hitting spots Eva had only read about in cheap romance novels.
Her back arched, her breasts swaying with each deep thrust, and her mouth fell open in a soundless scream. There she was—laid out bare on her breakfast table, legs wrapped around this man she barely knew, being fucked like a slut in a scene straight out of one of those forbidden fantasies she'd sworn she didn't have. The world saw her as a disgraced ex-media personality. Most of the gossip blogs had labeled her a closeted lesbian. She managed a mental laugh between moans.
Well, this would certainly clear the rumors.
She wrapped her legs tighter around Alex's waist, pulling him deeper. Her hands gripped the edge of the table.
"Shit!" Alex grunted. "Fuck, Eva…"
Each stroke got rougher. His sweat dripped down onto her chest, mixing with hers. With one final thrust, they both cried out, losing themselves to the dizzying pleasure that ripped through them.
Their bodies stilled. His head dropped as she blinked up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
*****
Eva threw on her underwear quickly, fumbling slightly as her hands trembled. She yanked on the shirt she'd worn earlier and stood awkwardly near the fridge, her eyes scanning everything in the room except Alex. Her hair was a mess. Her lips were swollen. Her heart was still galloping.
Alex was slower. He pulled on his pants with infuriating ease.
What in the actual freaking hell had they just done?
"Please…" Alex said. "Don't look like you regret it."
Eva's head snapped up.
"It was a good fuck," he added casually.
"I… I didn't say it wasn't good," she murmured, running a hand through her tangled hair. "It was… great actually. Amazing. But I just—I've never done anything so reckless before."
She could hear the uncertainty in her own voice and hated it. Her heart was thudding so hard, it echoed in her ears. This wasn't her. She didn't let her guard down.
Alex took a step toward her. "We only live once, honey," he said with a grin that tried too hard to be cocky. "Embrace truly living."
She felt his fingers brush her jaw, tilting her face toward him. He leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her head away at the last second, his lips grazing her cheek instead.
"Don't," she said softly. "Please."
Alex pulled back, blinking at the refusal.
"I am not looking for a relationship," she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the coffee stain on the floor.
"Neither am I," Alex replied with a shrug, though his tone was just a touch too casual. He leaned against the counter, arms folded, trying to appear unbothered. But inside, there was a pang—small but real. Because despite the sex, despite the walls they both insisted were still intact, he had felt a shift between them.
Eva finally lifted her gaze to meet his. "Then we should just leave this as it is. We don't have to see each other again."
Alex gave a low chuckle, though it sounded more bitter than amused. "Ouch. That used to be my line. Fuck, it stings." He shook his head and smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
The moment was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. A heavy thunk. Then footsteps echoing across the hardwood floors. A voice followed, calling out with a practiced familiarity that froze Eva in place.
"Eva!"
Alex straightened, instantly alert. He turned toward Eva, eyebrows raised in question. "Who is that?"
Eva sighed, the breath shaky. "My ex-husband."
Alex blinked. "Of course it is."
The footsteps grew louder until Daniel stepped into the doorway, pausing just long enough for the shock to register on his face. Daniel's eyes swept across the scene—from the undone shirt buttons on Eva's top, to the disheveled kitchen, to Alex standing there.
"I thought the next-door neighbors were just being busybodies when they told me you were here," Daniel said. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Alex.
Alex offered a nonchalant wave. "Hi. I'm Alex. You must be the charming ex."
"What do you want, Daniel?"
Daniel stepped into the kitchen. "This is my house."
"Was your house," Eva corrected.
Daniel's eyes flicked back to Alex, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Is this why you came back from Paris? To…fuck?"
Alex let out a low whistle and leaned toward Eva. "Charming and eloquent."
Eva smirked. She glanced at Daniel and, despite everything, there was a flicker of old pain in her eyes.