-HUNTER POV-
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I had just put Caesar to bed. He snuggled into his nket, breathing softly. I stood there for a moment, watching him, feeling calm.
Lately, I have been staying away from meetings, not answering calls from investors or business partners, and dying big deals.
The world could wait. My family was more important.
Things had been good. Stable. I still felt unsure about the calm times, but I learned to appreciate them. Celine was back at home, and I could hear Caesarughing in the halls.
The scary thoughts that used to keep me up at night were fading away.
I had given her ckwood Industries, shoved the empire I seized into her hands, though she had told me she didn’t want it.
I forced it on her anyway–because if anyone deserved to sit atop the ruins of those bastards, it was her.
She’d eventually agreed, only after I said the shares would sit in a trust under her name, for Caesar, for whatever came after.
Edward ckwood was trying to stay important, but no one wanted to deal with him because they were afraid of me. And Mia?
She left New York pretending to be on “medical leave.”
I had considered cklisting herpletely, but Celine stopped me. ‘I want peace, Hunter. I want her name erased from our lives.’
So I erased her.
The only remaining thorn was my mother. Eleanor never changed. The woman was hell–bent on introducing me to some other woman, calling and texting with her endless schemes. I shut her out of everything except her allowance.
A leash, short and tight.
But tonight wasn’t about any of them. Tonight was about Celine.
I shaved, showered, and dressed carefully. A dark, expensive shirt that clung across my shoulders, a pair of fitted pants. Nothing shy, but deliberate.
I wanted her to see me, really see me, not the ruthless mogul or the broken man in therapy. Just me, her
husband.
I paced the living room with a small velvet box in my hand. Inside, a ne. Simple, elegant, with a
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diamond that would catch the light just enough.
It wasn’t about the price–it was about her. Something to rest against her skin, something she would know <b>I </b>had chosen just for her.
I was restless, running a hand over my jaw, adjusting my buttons, checking my watch though the time hadn’t moved. Then…. “Hunter.”
Her voice. Soft, floating down the stairs like a song.
I turned–and for a second, I forgot to breathe.
She stood by the staircase, wearing a floral dress that hugged her curves and reached her knees. Her long legs looked elegant in those heels.
Her hair was cut into a bob that just touched her jaw, giving her a fresh, youthful appearance. She had transformed part of herself, and she looked amazing.
I stared like a fool. My chest tightened. “You…” My voice came out rough, husky. “You look incredible.”
A shy smile touched her lips, and she smoothed her dress as if nervous. “You think?”
“Celine,” I said, stepping closer, “you could walk into any room and own it.”
Color touched her cheeks, and I slipped the box from my pocket, flipping it open. “For you.”
She blinked at the ne, her lips parting. “Hunter……”
“No arguments,” I murmured. “Turn around.”
She hesitated, then did. I brushed her short hair aside, fingers grazing the nape of her neck, fastening the sp.
The diamond caught the light against her skin, but all I could focus on was the way she shivered under my touch. My lips hovered dangerously close to the shell of her ear.
“Perfect,” I whispered.
She turned back, her fingers brushing the pendant. Her eyes met mine, soft and shining, and for a second I wanted to forget the whole evening and drag her upstairs. But I forced myself to step back.
“Ready?” She nodded, and I led her out.
I insisted on driving. She had wanted to, but I wasn’t ready to let her behind the wheel, not yet. My protectiveness made her roll her eyes, but she didn’t argue. Not tonight.
We arrived at the gallery, and when we stepped inside, people turned to look at us. They recognized Hunter Reid…..a billionaire known for making headlines…..walking in hand–in–hand with his wife.
I saw Celine stiffen. I cursed myself. She hated attention, hated being watched like an exhibit. I leaned down, murmuring, “We can leave. Say the word.”
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She surprised me by squeezing my hand tighter. “No. We’re here. Let’s enjoy it.”
I searched her face. “You’re sure<b>?” </b>
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Her smile was small but steady. Then, before I could push, she rose on her toes and kissed me. Quick<b>, </b>soft, but enough to silence my doubts.
I chuckled, stunned, brushing my thumb across her lip. “Alright, Mrs. Reid.”
We walked through the gallery. I gave her champagne and saw her eyes brighten as she looked at the paintings.
Dancers were in the corners, music was ying, and for once, I wasn’t thinking about work or problems. Just her.
Then I saw him….a famous artist she loved. I had seen his books in her little studio home. She gasped when he came over, smiling kindly.
They talked, her voice excited and her hands moving. He asked her to his show in Paris, and I saw her shine.
My chest felt tight. Paris. The idea of her being away made me tense, but then I saw her happy smile. So, I held it in and forced a smile back.
If she wanted Paris, I would do anything for her.
At the same time, some women were watching us. One heiress I knew touched my arm and said something about business, but I didn’t pay attention to her.
I was focused on Celine across the room,ughing with someone who loved art too.
I excused myself without a word, crossed the floor, and slid my arm around Celine’s waist. She looked up, startled. Before she could speak, I kissed her.
Deep, unapologetic, iming. My hand never left her. The whispers broke out, shes from phones catching us. I didn’t care. Let the world buzz<b>. </b>
When we left, she was still glowing. Talking about the artist, the show, and the details. I listened, watching her light spill into the night.
**
Dinner was at a small pasta restaurant, hidden but the best in Manhattan. I had reserved the quietest corner, away from prying eyes.
She twirled spaghetti on her fork, still buzzing from the gallery. I leaned back, watching her. “Would you ever want your own gallery?”
Her fork paused. She blinked at me. “What?”
“Your own gallery. Or a pastry shop. Or whatever you want. Tell me, Celine. I’ll make it happen.” She stared at me, lips parting, like I had stripped her bare with words alone.
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“I…” She faltered, then smiled softly. “I think… I would love a gallery. And maybe <b>a </b>pastry shop doesn’t sound so bad either.”
Across from us, a family sat. Father, mother, a daughter, and a baby in the mother’s arms. I froze, panic rising. Would it hurt her? Would it rip her open again?
But when I looked at her, she was smiling. Gentle. Peaceful.
She reached across the table, taking my hand. “Let’se here with Caesar sometime. Just the three of us.”
I felt a rush of relief that was intense. I squeezed her hand and couldn’t speak for a moment.
The second the front door closed behind us, the restraint shattered. I pressed her back against it, mouth iming hers with a hunger that had been chewing at me all evening.
Her lips parted instantly, a gasp swallowed by my tongue. My hands roamed her sides, gripping her waist, sliding lower until I hooked her thigh and pulled her flush against me.
“Hunter….” she breathed, but the way she arched into me told me it wasn’t a protest.
I caught the edge of her floral dress and dragged it upward, my fingers brushing the silk of her thigh. She shivered, nails digging into my shoulders.
“I’ve been hard for you all night,” I muttered against her mouth, biting her lower lip until she whimpered. “Watching you walk around that gallery, smiling, glowing….fuck, Celine, do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Her answer came in the way she tugged my shirt, desperate, pulling it over my head. My chest pressed against her soft curves, skin on skin, heat sparking like gasoline.
I lifted her without breaking the kiss, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. I carried her upstairs, every step a struggle not to take her right there against the wall.
When Iy her on the bed, I paused just long enough to take her in. Her dress was wrinkled, her hair tousled, the ne I had given her glinting between her breasts.
My mark.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I growled, and then I was on her again.
I kissed down her throat, sucking hard enough to leave bruises, my hands tugging the straps of her dress down. The fabric slid away, revealingce that made me curse under my breath.
“Did you wear this for me?” I asked, tugging at her bra, freeing her breasts.
Her cheeks flushed, but her voice was steady. “Maybe.”
I sucked a nipple into my mouth, her back arching off the bed, a cry spilling from her lips. My other hand slid between her thighs, pressing against the damp fabric of her panties.
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“You’re already wet,” I rasped, pushing thece aside, sliding a finger into her heat. She clenched around me, gasping my name.
“Hunter…please….”
I fucked her with my fingers, slow, deliberate, curling until she was moaning, squirming, begging. Then I pulled away, earning a desperate whimper.
“Not yet,” I whispered darkly.
I stripped her bare, dragging the ruined panties down her legs, spreading her thighs wide. I kissed the inside of her knee, then higher, until my mouth found her soaked center.
She bucked, a strangled cry tearing out of her throat as I licked her, tongue circling her clit, sliding into her.
I devoured her like a starving man, holding her hips down when she thrashed, fucking her with my tongue until she was trembling, chanting my name like a prayer.
“Hunter…oh God…I’m…”
I didn’t let up. I sucked her clit, fingers pumping into her at the same time, until she shattered, screaming, her body jerking under my hold.
I licked her through it, savoring every drop, before crawling back up to kiss her swollen lips. She tasted herself on my tongue, moaning as she clutched at me.
“Condom….” she whispered weakly.
“No,” I growled, aligning myself with her. “Not tonight. I need you raw. I need to feel you everywhere.”
Her eyes widened, then softened, and she nodded. “Yes.”
That one word undid me. I pushed inside slowly, groaning at the tight, wet heat gripping me. She gasped, nails raking down my back, thighs tightening around me.
“Fuck, Celine,” I breathed, burying myself to the hilt. “You feel like heaven.” I pulled out, thrust back in, hard. She cried out, clutching me, and I lost control.
I fucked her deep, relentlessly, my hips mming against hers. Every thrust drew a moan, every moan fed the fire burning through me.
She clung to me, body writhing, head thrown back. “Harder, Hunter…..please….”
I obeyed, pounding into her, her breasts bouncing with each movement. I bent, sucking one nipple into my mouth as I fucked her mercilessly, her cries filling the room.
She tightened suddenly, her walls gripping me, and I knew she was close. I slid a hand between us, rubbing her clit fast.
Her scream was raw, her body convulsing around me as she came undone. The feel of her pulsing around me, milking me, was too much. I groaned her name, thrusting hard, and spilled inside her, filling her with every
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drop.
We copsed together, sweaty, trembling, tangled in sheets. My chest heaved as I buried my face in her neck, kissing her feverishly.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” I whispered hoarsely.
Her fingers tracedzy circles on my back. “Good. Because you’re mine.”
And in that moment, with her body still wrapped around mine, her ne glittering against her skin, I knew she was right. I wasn’t the ruthless Reid the world feared.
I was just a man hopelessly, irrevocably hers.
“Whatever you want, Celine…” I whispered into the quiet dark. “The world, the stars, Paris, galleries, everything. I’ll give it to you<i>. </i>All of it.”
She smiled against my skin, her hand clutching mine. “I already have everything I want.”
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