How To Lose Your Billionaire Alpha Husband In 365 Days (Or Less)!-Chapter 35: Comfort Sex?

I reached up and ran my hand along the solid plane of his chest, over warm skin and ridged abs, watching his muscles flex under my touch. I slid my fingers back up, brushing his nipples—just to test him—and he hissed softly, his body jolting ever so slightly as he trembled against mine.

Interesting.

A slow smile pulled at my lips, but before I could say anything, he leaned down and kissed me again, rougher this time, deeper. His tongue swept against mine, and I moaned into his mouth, arching up to him.

His hips pressed into mine, and I felt it—him—hard and heavy through his pants, perfectly aligned with the spot between my legs that throbbed for attention.

But it wasn’t close enough. Not nearly enough.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down, grinding against him with a breathy moan. The friction made my head spin.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, forehead pressed to mine.

"If we go further, I won’t be able to stop myself," he said in a low and raw voice. "And you deserve more than comfort sex after a nightmare."

Comfort? That word snapped something in me. This wasn’t comfort. This was fire. This was need.

"You think this is just comfort?" I asked. I reached up, bit his bottom lip gently, then pushed him back—hard.

He let me.

I surprised even myself when I rolled us over, straddling his hips, pinning him beneath me. His eyes widened for a split second, then darkened with heat.

"I don’t want comfort, Aiden," I said firmly. "I want you. I want to feel something else. Anything else. Just—make me forget. Even if it’s only for a little while."

His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging into my skin, and he looked up at me like I was the moon itself.

"You’re my mate, right?" I added quietly, daring him to challenge it. "So stop pretending like you don’t want this too."

He groaned, the sound vibrating up through his chest, his jaw clenched tight as he fought to hold on to his last thread of control. I could see it—feel it—slipping.

Then I reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, baring my upper body to him.

His eyes dragged over me, reverent and hungry, and when they landed on my chest, on my bare breasts rising and falling with each unsteady breath, I ground my hips against him again, desperate for friction.

His restraint shattered.

Aiden pulled me down, capturing my mouth in another deep kiss before trailing his lips down my neck, across my collarbone, and finally, finally, to my chest. \

He sucked gently on one nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, and I cried out, my hands fisting in his hair.

"Gods," I gasped, shuddering. "Don’t stop."

He growled low in his throat, his mouth devouring me as I rocked against him, chasing that tension coiling low in my belly. My skin was on fire, nerves singing.

But then... he stopped.

He pulled back suddenly, his mouth leaving my skin. His hands still held my hips, but he froze beneath me.

"Not like this," he rasped, voice full of regret and restraint. "Not when you’re hurting."

I stared at him, my breath caught between a whimper and a growl. My body was flushed and aching, my chest still tingling from the feel of his mouth, my pulse hammering.

His eyes searched mine, pained and hesitant.

I waited for a second to see if he’d change his mind. If he’d give in again.

He didn’t.

My heart twisted.

Slowly, I climbed off him and turned my back, pulling the blanket up over my bare chest. My hands trembled as I tugged it around myself.

He didn’t move.

The silence stretched like a canyon between us.

"Then go," I whispered, not turning around. "You should go."

"Jasmine—"

"Please." My voice cracked. "Just go."

I didn’t hear him move for a long time. All I could hear was the harsh and uneven sound of his breath.

Then, after what felt like forever, the sound of rustling sheets.

The bed shifted as he stood.

And then... nothing.

He didn’t say another word.

He left, leaving me alone in the room.

The door clicked shut behind him.

I didn’t move. Just lay there, curled up under the blanket, my heart still pounding and my chest aching in a way that had nothing to do with lust.

The air in the room felt heavier without him, like it was pressing down on me, squeezing around the regret now wrapping tight in my chest.

God, what had I done?

I buried my face in the pillow, humiliated.

Not because I’d wanted him—because I still did—but because I’d lost control.

I hadn’t even stopped to think. I’d chased a high, chased the heat, desperate to feel something other than fear, grief, or the ghost of that nightmare still clinging to my skin.

But I’d crossed a line.

And he’d pulled away.

He should have. And I hated that I admired him for it.

My phone lay on the nightstand. I reached for it with a trembling hand and stared at the screen for a long moment before finally unlocking it.

No missed calls. One unread message—from Sophia hours ago.

My thumb hovered. Then I opened a new message.

Me: You ever do something completely out of character just because you’re falling apart on the inside?

I stared at the text, considering deleting it.

Then I sent it.

A minute passed. Then another.

The typing bubble popped up.

Sophia: Depends. Did you punch someone, cry in public, or confess feelings you’ve been pretending don’t exist?

Me: Not exactly. But it was a bad night. And I made it worse.

Sophia: You’re human, Jazz. You get to be messy sometimes.

Sophia: Still my boss lady tho. Don’t forget it.

I let out a soft, shaky laugh. I couldn’t help but stare at her last message for a bit longer than I should have.

Still my boss lady.

Maybe.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in the woods outside, I could feel the pull of the moon again, glowing full and distant.

I thought of the dream—the crash, the voices, the collar glinting in the firelight.

There were things inside me still unravelling. Things I don’t understand.

But if there was one thing I had left, it was my will. My control.

So I promised myself, right then and there, as the tears dried on my cheeks and the fire in my body dimmed to embers: I’d stop letting this world spin me around like a puppet.

I’d take charge of myself and my emotions

And next time, I wouldn’t fall apart.