The next morning, Stella stirred in her sleep, her limbs heavy and sore from the night Simon had given her. She let out a soft sigh, her lips still tingling from his kisses, her body still aching from his touch. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.
She blinked.
A bathrobe?
Frowning, she stretched her body. Her eyes darted to the clock — 10:00 AM.
The room was flooded with sunlight, illuminating the luxurious black and charcoal decor of the master bedroom. It almost felt unreal — waking up here after last night.
And then the door creaked open.
Stella's heart did a little flip when she saw Simon walk in, shirtless, his tattooed, muscular chest and arms on full display. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he carried a breakfast tray in one hand — his eyes locked directly on her.
A smile tugged at Stella's lips. "I could get used to this," she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Simon smirked, approaching the bed. "What?"
Stella yawned. "Waking up like this. In your arms. With breakfast in bed." She gave him a playful grin. "I think I have the most devoted boyfriend ever."
Simon smirked.
The air shifted.
And then — in less than a second — Simon was on top of her.
"Devoted?" he rasped, his voice dangerously low, his nose brushing against hers.
Stella's breath hitched. "S-Simon—"
"Devoted?" he repeated, his dark brown eyes turning almost pitch black. He leaned in, his lips grazing her jaw, down her throat. "Baby… do you have any idea how devoted I am to you?"
Stella's stomach twisted painfully in desire. "I-I mean—"
His large, tattooed hand slid around her throat — not squeezing, but possessing. "You want me to show you what devotion looks like, little fish?" His voice was pure sin. "Want me to worship you? Have you trembling under me again?"
Stella whimpered.
"Simon—"
And then he crashed his mouth onto hers.
The kiss was Desperate. His tongue invaded her mouth, devouring her like he hadn't tasted her in years. His free hand dragged down her bathrobe, exposing her shoulder — his teeth nipping the skin.
Simon pulled away, his jaw clenched like it physically pained him to stop touching her. With a defeated groan, he stood up and gently placed her tray of food beside her.
Then he walked toward the pool that descended from the master bedroom's stairs. He stopped at the edge, his broad, inked back facing her.
"Where are you going?" Stella asked, confused.
Simon turned his head, his eyes burning with something dangerously dark.
"You need a bath," he said, his voice deep and controlled. "I'll wait outside."
Stella frowned. "You're not joining me?"
Simon exhaled harshly. Fuck. "If I join you, little fish…" His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk for the rest of the day."
Stella's stomach clenched painfully.
Jesus Christ.
Simon clenched his jaw, forcing himself to leave. "Take your bath," he gritted. "I'll wait outside."
Stella smiled, sinking into the warm water. She relaxed her muscles, allowing the tension from last night's mind-blowing make out to ease away. But her mind was still intoxicated with Simon.
Little did she know…
Simon never left.
He watched her.
His dark figure stood outside the bathroom, his hands braced on either side of the doorframe, his chest rising and falling as his hunger consumed him.
His jaw ticked. His control slipped. His cock was already straining painfully in his jeans just from the sight of her naked body in the water.
And then it hit him.
Today was the last day she would ever bathe alone.
After tonight, Stella Winchester would never sleep alone. Never shower alone. Never live a day without his touch.
Because Simon Winchester had decided — she was his now. Entirely. Eternally. Forever.
And he didn't give a fuck what it took — he would make sure she never belonged to anyone but him.