to be clean didn’t outweigh my need to be close to him. I just wanted to look at him, to admire this sexy man. “You fuck a lot of women in the ass?”
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile as he lathered the soap into his skin. “Jealous?”
“Curious.”
“Yes,” he said without shame. “I fuck a lot of women in the ass.”
And they probably all enjoyed it—because he was gorgeous.
“But I usually pay for it.”
I did a double take at his admission. “Pay for it?”
“Yes. I pay for sex.” As if he hadn’t just said something shocking, he stepped under the water and rinsed the soap away.
I couldn’t hide my surprise because it was so surprising. Lucian was slimy and gross, so of course, he had to pay for pussy. He had to force me to be his wife. But this man…didn’t need to pay for anything. He could get ass and pussy on his own—without paying a single euro. “Why?”
“Why does any man pay for sex? It’s convenient.”
“But you don’t need to pay for sex. Look at you…”
His grin widened. “I know I don’t. But like I said, it’s convenient. Sometimes picking up a woman feels like too much work. All the talking, all the attachment. The random texts in the middle of the night. When you pay a woman, she leaves the second you’re finished. She understands her place and runs off to her next client.”
I knew this man made his living dishonorably. I knew he was a creature of the night. He was sleeping with a married woman and didn’t bat an eye over it. He had a small army outside his compound at all times. Paying for sex was probably the least of his crimes. But I was still surprised because he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. The second I spotted him in that bar, my thighs squeezed together tightly, and my pussy clenched like he was already inside me.
“You judge me.” He stood under the shower for a moment, the water cascading through his grooves of muscle in rivers.
“No. Just surprised. When I saw you in that bar…all I wanted to do was fuck you. That doesn’t happen to me very often…if ever.” I’d never laid eyes on a man I wanted more, even when I was in love with Evan. He was unremarkable compared to the beast standing in front of me.
“And that’s exactly where the problem is. Women get obsessed. Women get clingy.”
“I never said I was obsessed or clingy.”
“I know. But most women are. You’re married, so that’ll never happen.”
Now I understood why he kept sleeping with me instead of growing tired of me. I was never going to become a bigger problem. I would never ask him for more than he could give. I had an enormous rock on my finger and a multimillion-euro car parked in his parking lot. Another man owned me. “Now it all makes sense…”
He stepped out of the stream of water so I could have a turn. He stood in front of me, looking down at me, a light shadow on his jawline. His blue eyes were slightly sympathetic. “I’m not fucking you just because you’re married. I’m fucking you because I can’t stop fucking you.” His hands moved up my arms and touched me lightly, his callused fingertips sliding across my soft skin. His hands left my elbows then moved around my waist, gripping my rib cage like he wanted to control my breaths. “And I meant what I said before…that I would help you if you ever wanted me to.” His thumbs moved to the center of my stomach and felt the small line that separated the small muscles of my abs.
That was a conversation I didn’t want to get into again. It filled me with false hope, and once that was gone, I was only left with depression. “So…have you been paying for sex when I’m not around?”
He held my gaze without blinking.
“I’m not asking because I’m jealous. I’m not asking because your answer will make me angry. I’m just asking…”
“Why?” His deep voice reverberated in the granite shower. “Why are you asking?”
My eyes drifted to his chest, to the way the beads of water stuck to his muscular physique. “I guess I just want to know more about you…”
“You don’t want to know anything about me.” He held my gaze, his blue eyes serious in their hostility. “If you want to keep screwing me, it’s better that you