The morning after their heated night, the mansion was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and coffee. Kasmine had risen early, still flushed with memories of Bryce's lips on her skin, his tongue driving her wild, the way his possessive voice had echoed in her ears. She tried to shake it off as she served breakfast, but the heat between her thighs refused to fade.
When they sat at the dining table, Bryce's mother looked between them with a sly smile. "Well," she said casually, sipping her tea, "after last night's… enthusiasm, I wouldn't be surprised if I had a grandson on the way soon."
Kasmine nearly choked on her coffee, her cheeks flaming red. Bryce stiffened beside her, his fork pausing midair.
"M-Mother…" he growled lowly, shooting her a warning glare.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, Bryce," his mother teased, her tone light but her eyes sharp with amusement. "I may be older, but I'm not deaf. These walls are not as thick as you think."
Kasmine's grandmother chuckled, clapping her hands softly. "A grandson would be a blessing. My little Kasmine giving me a great-grandchild—oh, my heart would be at peace."
"Grandma!" Kasmine squeaked, burying her burning face in her palms.
Bryce leaned back in his chair, jaw tightening, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes he couldn't hide. His hand slid under the table, resting on Kasmine's thigh possessively. She flinched, eyes darting to him in shock, but he only smirked, squeezing gently.
As the conversation continued, his mother kept pressing, throwing knowing looks at her son and his blushing bride. "It's about time Bryce settled down. He's been too cold, too focused on business. A wife softens a man. And a child?" She tilted her head. "A child makes him whole."
Kasmine swallowed hard, her body betraying her as Bryce's hand began to stroke her thigh under the table. Heat crawled up her neck, her heart hammering wildly.
Later, when the older women finally excused themselves for a walk in the garden, Bryce wasted no time. He pressed Kasmine back against the wall of the dining room, his lips at her ear.
"Did you hear them?" he whispered, his voice rough. "Talking about me giving you a baby?"
Her knees weakened, her breath shaky. "Bryce…"
He kissed down her neck, biting gently. "They're planting ideas in my head, Kasmine. Dangerous ideas. Do you know what it does to me… to imagine filling you with my seed, making you mine in every way?"
Her body trembled as his words ignited a fire deep inside her. He didn't take her then—he was still holding back—but the look in his eyes promised that the moment he claimed her virginity, there would be no stopping him.
And in that moment, Kasmine realized—his mother's playful words had only made things more dangerous between them.
The mansion felt strangely quiet after Bryce's mother and Kasmine's grandmother left. Their laughter and playful teasing still lingered in the air, but now it was just the two of them again.
Kasmine sat curled on the couch in the living room, her legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through the new phone Bryce had gotten her. When he entered, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up, he looked less like the intimidating CEO and more like a man who wanted nothing but her.
"Finally," Bryce said, loosening his tie and tossing it aside. "Peace."
She laughed softly, her shoulders easing. "You're relieved your mother isn't still asking about grandchildren?"
His lips curved into a smirk. "Relieved? No. Tempted? Very."
Her cheeks flamed. "Bryce…"
He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers in a teasing kiss that left her breathless. "Come. I don't want business. I don't want noise. I just want you."
He pulled out a deck of cards from the drawer and dropped it on the coffee table. "Let's play."
Kasmine blinked. "Cards?"
"Strip poker," he said smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Her eyes widened. "I… I don't know how to—"
"That makes it even better," he murmured, settling across from her, his tall frame sprawled casually. "I'll teach you."
The first few rounds had her laughing so hard she nearly fell over, her competitive spirit peeking out. But when she lost, Bryce leaned forward, tugging at the hem of her loose gown. "Rules are rules."
"Bryce!" she protested, but he only chuckled, brushing a kiss against her neck as he helped slip one sleeve down, baring her smooth shoulder.
The game dissolved quickly into playful wrestling, both of them tumbling onto the couch. His hands pinned her wrists above her head, his mouth trailing down her throat. She gasped as his teeth grazed her skin, his tongue following after to soothe the bite.
"You taste better than any victory," he whispered huskily, his breath hot against her ear.
Her body arched beneath him as he slid a hand along her waist, fingertips teasing the curve of her hip. Kasmine's heart pounded, her voice trembling. "Bryce… what are we doing?"
"Whatever you want, Kasmine." He kissed her hard, possessive, his tongue tangling with hers until she whimpered. Pulling back just slightly, his voice dropped low. "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you. Anything."
Her lips parted, her chest heaving. She couldn't form the words, but the look in her eyes said enough.
Bryce smirked, brushing his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. "Careful, little wife. The way you're looking at me… I might not stop this time."
The air between them thickened with heat, with tension that threatened to ignite into something neither of them could take back.
For the rest of the night, they played, they laughed, and they kissed until their lips were sore. But beneath all of it was a growing fire—an intimacy that had nothing to do with contracts or obligation, and everything to do with them.
Later that night, the firelight from the grand fireplace flickered across the living room. Kasmine sat cross-legged on the rug, hair falling loose over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed from their earlier playful kisses. Bryce was stretched back on the couch, watching her with eyes that seemed darker, hungrier than usual.
"Tell me something," he said suddenly, his deep voice breaking the silence.
She tilted her head, nervous. "What?"
"What do you really want to do with your life? Not with me. Not with this contract. You."
Kasmine hesitated, fingers playing with the hem of her dress. No one had ever asked her that seriously before. After a moment, she whispered, "I… I've always wanted to have a little mall. Nothing too big. A place where I could sell clothes, perfumes, maybe even shoes. Everything that makes people feel beautiful."
Bryce's gaze softened, the corner of his lips tugging upward. "A mall, hmm? My little wife has bigger dreams than she admits."
Her heart skipped. "You think it's silly?"
"I think it's sexy," he murmured, leaning forward until his lips brushed her ear. "A woman who dreams is irresistible."
The compliment melted her inside, and when his mouth captured hers again, the kiss was deeper, hungrier. She clung to him, her body trembling as he pressed her down against the rug. His weight, his warmth, his scent—it overwhelmed her.
Her gown slipped up, baring her thighs, and Bryce's hands roamed without hesitation. His lips trailed down her neck, sucking until her skin marked beneath his mouth. Kasmine gasped, her nails digging into his back as he ground against her, hard and throbbing.
"Bryce—" her voice broke on his name, half-plea, half-desire.
He groaned low, his self-control snapping as he pushed the dress higher. His fingers found her soaked panties, sliding them aside as he pressed against her entrance. She stiffened, a sharp cry escaping her lips as the reality of it hit—her first time, right here, right now.
Bryce froze. His body trembled with need, his breath ragged, but he stopped. His forehead rested against hers as he panted harshly. "Damn it, Kasmine… you're still untouched."
She blinked up at him, her lips parted, chest heaving. "Bryce…"
He shut his eyes, fighting himself. "Not like this. Not on the floor. Not when I'm about to lose my mind."
Instead, he shifted lower, his mouth brushing over her belly, then down further. Kasmine's breath hitched as his lips pressed against the soft, sensitive skin of her thighs.
"Then let me at least taste you," he growled.
Her gasp echoed through the room as his tongue slid between her folds, hot and deliberate. The pleasure was unlike anything she had ever felt—sharp, dizzying, making her cry out his name. His hands gripped her thighs, keeping her open for him as he devoured her mercilessly, his tongue lapping, teasing, plunging until she was writhing helplessly beneath him.
"Bryce… I can't—ahh—"
Her body arched off the floor, shuddering violently as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She clutched at his hair, her moans spilling freely, until the world dissolved into white-hot bliss.
When it was over, her body went limp, trembling and spent. Bryce kissed her inner thigh gently, then moved up to gather her against his chest. She was already drifting, her lashes fluttering shut, completely undone.
He brushed her hair back tenderly, gazing down at her flushed, exhausted face. "Sleep, little wife," he whispered, his voice rough but soft. "One day, when the time is right, I'll make you mine completely. But for now… you'll dream of me."
And with that, she passed out in his arms, still trembling from the way he'd worshipped her body.