Welcome to Jasmine's baby shower, read the welcome sign as guests entered the event.

She lied.

To everybody.

She spun a tale, a story of love at first sight. Meeting her husband at Camelia's wedding at which they fell instantly in love, dated for a few months and eloped to his home in Italy because they couldn't wait to be together.

The baby shower guests seemed to buy her story. Some questioned her about Cristiano, some of which she dodged, others she answered. After that, to Jasmine's relief, they congratulated her warmly with pleasant smiles and wished her only the best in the new celebration of her life. Many gave her advice about labor, delivering, motherhood, and what to look forward to once her bundles of joy were born.

The guest list consisted of about fifty women, some close friends, family, and the only male exception present at the baby shower, the mastermind planner of the entire event–the host, Sammy. Everyone knew Sammy of course, and having him there was no surprise.

The theme: A tea party–tea for two.

Guests were specified in the invitation what to wear. Many showed up in their best tea dresses. Cute hats, much like the British wore to an event were on many heads and kitty heels were a popular shoes many aimed for knowing there was going to be fun involved.

The back yard lawn of her parents' home was littered with tables, chairs with umbrellas centerpieces crowned with flowers. Balloons in pink and blue lined corners and an arch of the same colors were strung around the lawn. A great big sign in foil balloons read: TEA FOR TWO.

A long buffet was set with a variety of catered foods and sweet delectable goodies. Camelia and Sammy booked a photo booth where guests took silly pictures with silly signs and party hats. A DJ played music and baby shower games were waiting for eager participants.

There was a two tiered cake in pink and blue all alone on a table stand waiting to be cut through surrounded by Party favors of teabags with a small gold spoon were lined on their own table for guests to take to end the celebration. There was also a table of alcoholic drinks, cosmos, to be exact–in pink and blue.

It was beautiful and a picture taken out of a catalog as Jasmine placed both her hands on her belly, stroking the hard mass that encased her babies. The breeze was light and the sun was bright, offering a pleasant warmth of spring weather without a cloud in sight.

But Jasmine's mood didn't quite match the weather.

She was anxious and not relaxed as she should be. This was a day she was supposed to enjoy. She was relieved to escape Cristiano and his overwhelming presence. He doted on her like she was a child, extra protective, showering her with compliments, and accompanying her to pick out more items missing before the babies arrived.

They often dined out and spoke of their expectations for their babies. They talked about baby names to be exact, running through a list of girl and boy names. After hours of musing over the thousands of possibilities they listed their top five names for each gender. But the two top names on those lists were Valentina and Vincent–Italian names. They were beautiful and stood out to Jasmine the most.

Cristiano was honored she chose Italian names.

He was the perfect gentleman and behaved as an expectant father should. During those emotional moments she felt close to him again. She had thought she didn't want him in her life, but seeing his eyes light up when he felt a push or kick against her skin. . . She could honestly see he was happy. It was the first time she'd ever seen him look so free.

They appeared like a married couple readying themselves for parenthood, however, something very important was missing. It was her. She felt distant. That she couldn't fully trust him. As if she were waiting for him to mess up–waiting and watching him with critical eyes. The insecurities grew with each passing day she saw him as did the fear he would hurt her.

On top of the distrust, the unmentioned kiss they shared remained in the back of her mind.

Cristiano hadn't looked at her with anything approaching desire. She kept telling herself it was best, he was giving her the space she required without influences but it didn't stop her raging hormones from being so aware of him. It felt like her body was programmed to react to him whenever he was close and it set her on edge.

A loud clap brought her attention back to the party. Ladies were sipping on their cosmos while others safely choose tea. Sammy captured their attention with his clapping and all the conversation died down.

"It's time for the games, ladies!" Sammy hollers. "I need everyone to partner up and divide into pairs. We're playing balloon hump!" He turns and points to the DJ. "We need some motivation! Play "Push it," by Salt and Pepper. This should get you horny hookers in the mood!"

Jasmine groaned, shaking her head at the title of his game.

"This challenge involves one of you attaching a balloon to a string, tying it around your waist with the balloon positioned above the players tushy." He grips his butt and squeezes to emphasize his words which had the ladies already giggling. "The goal is to try to pop it by humping from behind and thrusting with your hips." He demonstrates by thrusting his hips. "The first "couple" to pop their balloon wins!"

Camelia approaches her with a smile. "This is going to be nasty." She commented.

Jasmine chuckled. "That's Sammy for you. The party graduated from PG and skyrocketed to a rated R. He's always so extreme and pushes the limits." She shook her head and mumbled to herself, "The humping baby shower."

"That's what makes it fun!" Camelia argued, laughing.

"Yes, fun and humiliating." Jasmine agreed watching the women divide into pairs.

Already, the air was filled with laughter and eagerness.

She watched her cousins pair up and the other ladies who wanted to participate began asking one other to partner up.

"Hey Camelia, you're going to be my partner!" Sammy says, approaching her with a balloon and a mischievous smile forming on his lips. "I'll even let you be the one humping me from behind."

"Oh no!" Camelia hid behind Jasmine. "Save me!" She pleaded, clutching Jasmine's shirt.

"You ain't gettin' outta this easily. Get your ass over here!"

He moves behind her and struggles tying the string around Camelia's waist as she squirmed. Jasmine covered her face with two hands as the ladies patiently waited for the game to begin. Some of them slipped off their shoes and their hats. Others were practicing "humping" their partner, placing their hands on waists and thrusting. One of the women fell forward laughing.

"Y'all can't cheat!" He snapped. "One of you hoes will be hanging on to the back of a chair while the other thrusts to pop the balloon." Sammy explained, as he dragged Camelia to the center of the party and placed her behind him demonstrating the position by bending over the back of the chair. "Let's get this tea party started!"

"I don't want to do this." Camelia complained. "This is more like a porn party."

"Suck it up!" Sammy snapped. "You should be lucky I'm your partner! Place your hands on my waist and get ready."

Jasmine muffled her laughter as best she could but failed miserably.

"Jazzy! Get your pregnant ass together! Once the women get into position, you need to yell go." He called.

He looked so ridiculous, Jasmine had to sit down before she collapsed. Most of the women looked like they were ready to have sex–the only thing in their way was the balloon. Her mother stood along the outskirts shaking her head as she does when Sammy comes up with something outrageous.

Here goes nothing.

"Ready. Set. Go!" She yelled.

Everyone quickly moved into action. Hips thrusted and balloons expanded. A few of the women toppled over the chair, landing on their stomachs with their partner following behind. Everyone roared with laughter.

Jasmine's gaze was riveted on Sammy and Camelia. The best and funniest of all was Camelia. She had the most unsure expression mixed with embarrassment and horror.

"Harder... harder." Sammy chanted.

Camelia continued in the same pace ignoring him.

"I said harder dammit!" Sammy screeched, hanging on for dear life to the chair. "We better win this!"

Camelia gripped his waist and thrust her hips, Sammy's body moving in sync. But the balloon was not popping. Her breathing was shallow as she pumped her hips even harder and faster trying desperately to pop the balloon. Jasmine hollered in laughter, leaning over the table to support her upper body.

It looked like they were having sex–hot and heavy sex and Camelia was not doing it right.

A lady screamed which garnered their attention. Everyone stopped and turned to the commotion. One woman with a tight dress ripped the back, exposing her bottom and panties. Her partner collapsed backwards, exhausted and rolling on the grass in uncontrollable laughter.

"What did I tell you about shopping at department stores, Susan? You want quality, you go to Dolce & Gabbana!" Sammy hollered across the lawn. The women go silent for only a second and then begin roaring with laughter.

"You are unbelievable." Jasmine muttered, feeling embarrassed for the woman.

"Resume your stations, people. . . !" Sammy demanded. ". . .and thrust! Oh and I forgot to add. . . Once you've popped your partners balloon you're supposed to switch places and continue the game. The first pair of partners to pop their balloons wins a big ass bag of candy dicks! Get poppin!"

"This is exhausting!" Camelia complained once more and resumed thrusting.

"What'd you do during sex, just lay there and let Superman do all the work!?! Remind me to pick you up some porn the next time I visit!" He screamed becoming frustrated. "Work your pelvis girl! Work them muscles!"

"You're sick." Camelia mumbled.

Sweat was accumulating on his forehead. Jasmine laid her head against her crossed arms, her belly giggling with every force of laughter coming from her.

Camelia became so angry and impatient with Sammy's continuous ranting, she thrust so hard the balloon finally burst with a loud pop and Sammy toppled over the chair.

"Hard enough for you?" She asked. "How'd you like it?" Dusting her hands ending her job.

A string of colorful curses left Sammy's mouth as he spit grass out of his mouth.

"Bend over." He rasped. "It's your turn." He demanded picking himself back up and coughing up more grass.

"Oh hell no!" Camelia replied in horror backing away, glancing over her shoulder for a quick escape. She turned ready to bolt when Sammy caught her by the waist and practically carried her.

"Hold on girl, I ain't usually gentle." He says placing her hands on the chair he rightened.

"Let me go, Sammy!" Camelia angrily pushed back as he re-tied the string to her waist.

Mona their cook and housekeeper stood on the outskirts covering her mouth watching Sammy closely. Her expression was of mild irritation and a touch of disgust. 

Sammy caught her watching him and sent her wink. "Spread hummus not hate."

"Sammy." Annie came forward with a hard expression ready to intervene.

"Look, I ain't losing, do you hear me mama St. James. I'm dead set on winning that bag of dicks!" Sammy says getting into position behind Camelia and began thrusting.

"Mom, just let him. This is too much fun not to watch." Jasmine intervened, placing a hand over her mothers arm. Her smile was stretched so wide her cheeks ached.

Annie sighed and sat down in one of the chairs beside Jasmine.

"If only Superman could see us now, all over each other. Yeeeeeee-haaaaaaw!"

Jasmine was dying, tears running down her cheeks from laughing at the show they displayed. She could even hear her mother's quiet chuckling beside her.

Camelia craned her neck to glance over her shoulder and sent him a glare. "Are you crazy? Do you want to die young?"

Sammy thrust very hard, holding her solidly by the waist trying to gain momentum.

"You're right. I still haven't met Oprah or Beyoncé yet. I can't die. Let's end this before Superman walks in and has my head on a spit."

Sammy tries every angle with his hips. He even rolls them side to side. Nothing. He was practically holding Camelia up by the waist to try to control the stubborn balloon.

"Jesus, I'm beginning to sparkle all over the place!" He shrugs a shoulder to catch some of the sweat pouring down his face. "Damn this game to hell!" Glaring at the balloon like it were his worst enemy. "This is harder than it looks."

"Hurry Sammy! I don't know how much more of this I can take!" Camelia says in exasperation.

Oh God, thought Jasmine.  If only Camelia realized how she sounded. 

With one long, strong thrust, he squished the balloon until it pops.

"That was the best!" Jasmine claps. "Congratulations Sammy and Camelia! I knew you two would win!"

"And that ladies, is how a bitch thrusts!" He exclaims, fist pumping the air. He turns to survey the rest of the women and shakes his head. "Tea party my ass! This kinda looks like a scene out of a porn movie. Look at all these hoes." He gestures, his head tilted sideways. "I shoulda ordered a stripper dressed in nothing but a diaper and baby bottle. It would have been epic." He sighed sadly. "Oh well . . .next time. Now where did I hide that bag of dicks?" He runs off in search of the bag of candies.

Annie could only shake her head in disappointment.

Camelia drags herself to one of the empty chairs at their table and sags. "That was awful." She commented.

"I loved it!" Jasmine responded with a big smile.

Camelia smiles back. "It was worth it if it made you happy."

Sammy returns with a blue cosmo in one hand while a two pound bag of colored candy in the shape of penises nestled in the crook of his elbow and against his chest.

"I found it." He says with a smug smile. "We need to gather these horny hoes together. I have one more game, "Binkies on a stick."

Jasmine watches him rip the top of the bag and take a hand full of candies and shoves them in his mouth. "I think we've had enough action to last us a lifetime." She says, having the urge to gag. 

Within a few seconds, he stiffens. The bag of candies slips, falls, and spills all over the grass around his feet.

"Oh. My. Stars." He whispers.

The smile instantly sags from his face and his mouth gaps open leaving the candies no choice but to fall passed his lips like a waterfall.

Sammy looked star struck.

The entire group of women who were gathering themselves after the game and enjoying some refreshments and desserts fell silent. A hush settled over everyone as the music in the background played. Camelia and Annie exchange confused expressions.

Jasmine had remained frozen, unable to move, certain she had already known what had everyone so riveted before she abruptly lifted her head, her eyes immediately making contact with the new arrivals.

Four darkly dressed men appear. For a moment it looked like they walked in slow motion. As if someone pressed the slow-motion button on a remote. Their hair swayed slowly by the passing breeze, their suit jackets flared open at the ends as their arms and legs moved slowly in sync. The scene was missing a fogging mist enshrouding their bodies.

There before their very eyes was their father, Stefan, Cristiano and Zayn. Julien was ahead of the group as the men looked like Demi-gods flanking their king. The men were invited to arrive near the end of the party when she was ready to open gifts. Jasmine glanced at her watch. They were early. Much too early and Jasmine wasn't prepared for the sight of the father of her babies.

Every single pair of eyes were gawking and staring.

Her heart fluttered like a birds wings as she drank him in and inhaled sharply. Cristiano was dressed impeccably–as always, sharp and handsome as ever. His face was stoic. Jasmine couldn't but observe he fit perfectly between her father, Stefan and Zayn. They all gave off that matching dark and dangerous vibe. His gaze never left hers as everyone's interest was already focused upon him.

He was the center of attention for the moment.

A hot blush coated her face as couldn't help but stare. It was there again. That compelling aura that oozed from him, drawing the eye and making it impossible to look anywhere else other than him. The effect was dazzling and left her breathless every time.

She just didn't know how she was going to deal with her raging hormones whenever he was near. Although, she'd seen him, lived with him, carried their children in her womb, it was times like these when his presence hit her like a wind storm.

He wanted her, but he was waiting until she could be with him with no regrets. His control of his emotions was frightening, as frightening as her lack of it.

"Which one are you mentally undressing?" Sammy whispered to Camelia as soon as he got his mouth to work without taking his beady eyes off the men.

Camelia glances at him with a frown. "My husband, of course." She nudges his ribs. "What about you?"

"Mmmm. Every. Single. Damn. One." He took a long sip of his drink. "They're nothin' but blessed. Why not me, why?"

"Why not you, what?  I don't understand?" Camelia asked, resuming to mentally dissecting her husbands clothes. Stefan caught her eye and sends her a wicked wink which had her blushing.

Sammy waved a hand dismissively. "I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to God."

Something flickered in Cristiano's eyes as he finally turned his gaze to the rest of company. With the brief connection broken, a crushing sense of being trapped descended upon her.

He exuded a unique raw power and confidence nobody would have been able to pull off so effortlessly. And she couldn't help but be attracted to him–aroused by him. He was so incredibly sexy. . .

Damn her hormones. Damn them to hell.

Angry with herself, Jasmine bent her head, stood and maneuvered herself clear across the lawn of her parents backyard, scared to get sucked in by him again.

She exhaled slowly feeling him advance. It was proving impossible to remain immune to him. She despaired at the ever present desire she experienced whenever he was near. She wanted to deny him. To let him know that she didn't need him.

Unable to feel the presence of his stare on her back, Jasmine glanced over her shoulder and found Cristiano stopped before Sammy who was kneeling to collect the bag of candies. She watched as Sammy froze his movements, monetarily staring down at Cristiano's black polished shoes. His eyes slowly soaked every inch of his body, craning his neck upwards until he stopped at his eyes.

"Sweet mother of Jesus." She heard Sammy whisper in his sharpest lisp.

Cristiano thrust his hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised.

He cleared his throat. "I never had the opportunity to apologize for the way I treated you, Samuel. I wish you would accept my apology, put the past behind us and allow us to be friends."

Sammy dropped the bags of dicks once more and slowly stood, still ogling Cristiano and not ashamed doing it.

"The name is Sammy." He flutters his fake lashes at the man flirtatiously and offering his hand in a ladylike handshake.

Cristiano takes it and smiles tightly.

"There's nothing nachos and a martini can't fix." Sammy shrugs. "Apology accepted. Besides, I already forgave you the day of your wedding."

A confused frown formed on Cristiano's forehead. "Beg your pardon?"

"I swiped the Armani tux your staff loaned me before Jasmine and I left the castle." Sammy salutes him with his drink and a wink. "Call it even."

Cristiano eyed him with a critical eye. "Are you truly a doctor?" Jasmine heard him ask.

She muffled a chuckle under her breath making her way to the house to leave them to bond. Her back was aching and she easily tired these days. Leaving the party early was not customary but everyone was so busy whispering about the men, enjoying more food and drinks that she could escape for a while to the isolation of her room.

She was dying to soak in a tub and relax. Crossing the lawn undetected, she opened the French doors to the living room, crossed the kitchen and made her way carefully up the stairs.

Jasmine entered her bedroom and made a straight line to the en-suite bathroom turning the taps full on. She dispensed rose bath foam, before stripping and piling her hair in a bun, lowering herself into the foamy water. She lay back in the warm water, the shiny mound of her belly emerging from the white suds.

Although she desired him. It hurts seeing him. It always did. It always felt like a bucket of salt pouring over an open wound and flinched as the memories of her time with him at the castle came flooding back to her. The water turned cold by the time she carefully got out, hoping by some miracle Cristiano had left the party and back to the home he bought in their neighborhood.

He would always invite her back to his home but she refused to see it. He insisted he wanted her to see the nursery and offer her ideas. But she didn't have the heart. She didn't want to hope. She could not bear knowing she was never going to share it with them. It would make it harder for her to keep her heart protected from pain.

Jasmine's heart felt heavy in her chest and her shoulders were so incredibly tense she kneaded the tension as much as she could with her own hands before draping a silk robe over her dry naked body, wrapping it tightly over her baby bump.

Moving soundlessly on bare feet she opened the door to her bedroom and stopped abruptly when she was Cristiano in her bedroom, staring out of the window, hands in his pockets. He must have heard her enter for he turned around, his eyes narrowing when he saw her.

"W-what are you doing here?" She asked.

His smile was brief. He was walking towards her now, with a look on his face which was making her shiver. It was actually doing much more. It was making the soft curling excitement at the pit of her stomach begin to unfurl. She knew she ought to move, to run away–being in an empty room alone with only him and nearly naked except for a flimsy cloth separating them was dangerous.

Her overactive hormones were not helping her resolve. She felt as large as a whale but the desire stirring in her center was growing with every passing second.

Their gazes lock and Jasmine held her breath. She could only imagine what he was seeing on her face. Did he sense her desire? Could he see it in her eyes?

The tension began to shimmer in the air around them.

"This resentment I feel from you. . .I don't like it. Every time I'm with you, this wall separates us." He gestures with a free hand in the air separating them. "Why?" He asks.

He stops in front of her and brushes a stray lock of hair from her face and behind her ear. His fingertips brush her cheek.

Jasmine shook her head to hide the shiver of pleasure passing through her at his slight touch.

"No. You're mistaken. I am only trying to be as civil as possible for the sake of our mutual agreement concerning the babies." She responded.

He brushed his finger along her jaw. "Only because of the babies?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow and watching her closely.

Jasmine tried to fight against the sudden whisper of pleasure that touch had given her.

She hesitated, wavering between the yes of her flesh and the no of her mind.

She nods. "Yes."

"Brutal but honest." He mused.

"What are you doing?" Watching him move behind her.

His hands massage her shoulders.

"I'm trying to make you relax. You are very tense, tesoro." He observed softly.

Jasmine expelled the breath she was holding as her soft flesh was kneaded. She swallowed heavily wanting to telling him to stop. But it felt so good. The tightness in her shoulders dissolved as his thumbs circled rhythmically at the flesh of her neck.

But the caress of his fingers on her skin was dangerous. The allure left her wanting more. She was dangerously attracted to him. It had been too long since she'd been touched in such a way that ignited the low burning fire deep within her. Not since the night their babies were conceived.

She closed her eyes. "Cristiano–"

"Shhh, don't talk." His fingers continued with their steady movement.

"We can't–you mustn't."

"Why not?" He whispered.

"You know why." She argued.

Later she would be appalled. But not now. Her body was greedy in anticipation and she could not seem to deny herself. The tension melted and a full blaze of desire overtook her body.

It was building in the air. It felt suffocating.

The ache of heat between her thighs and the tingling of her breasts yearned for his touch.

"You're trembling." He accused softly. "I can see the pulse beating in your throat. I make you feel things that you're not sure you should feel."

Her mouth was parched feeling him drift his hands down her rib cage. Her heart fluttered wildly. Surely she was mistaken but she could have sworn his hand brushed over her breasts. The whisper of his fingertips was butterfly light splaying his hand over one peaking nipple and letting his thumb circle over the tight bud.

Her hormones drove her wild with need.

She was squirming in excitement. She wanted to call his name out loud. She wanted him to pull her into his arms and start kissing her and make love to her.

No! She told herself. She would stop him in a minute. Just a little more of pleasure and she would push him away.

She gasped as he leaned over her, circling his arms around her body and kissing the top of her head. The heavy sound of his breathing matched her own. She could smell the scent of his aftershave and the feel of the warmth of his flesh as he touched her. His hands skated down over the swollen mound of her belly and pushing aside the folds of her silken robe.

Stop him.

Jasmine suppressed a moan.

She was like a puppet and he was pulling at her strings as her thighs parted to give him free access. Her head rolled back to lay on his shoulder. Before she knew it he was walking them to the bed. Jasmine's middle met the bed and she leaned forward, resting on the palms of her hands.

She would let him bring her to orgasm then she would call a halt to it. Just a little more pleasure, she convinced herself, and then she would push him away.

He was skating little circles over her warm skin of her inner thighs until she was gasping helplessly. His front was pressed fully against her bent bottom. She could feel his arousal straining painfully hard against his pants. And then his finger flickered over her moist flesh meeting the tight numb of her desire.

She almost fainted with pleasure. She opened her thighs wider. She gave another gasp as he began to stroke her aroused flesh until she was past caring about anything–falling victim to her own urgent needs.

She heard him say something soft and very explicit in Italian.

She wanted him inside her. Now. She couldn't take the torment of her over active, raging hormones. She needed fulfillment. His fingers were not enough. She needed a release fast before she crashed.

"Do you want me?" He whispered gently biting her earlobe and reading her mind.

A hunger both sharp and irresistible bubbled inside her. The warmth of his breath stirred all new sorts of fires.

Don't.

Jasmine was ready to explode and give up. Her skin was on fire, and her heart skittering away with excitement and desperation. She found herself making little cries that sounded like pleas. Time stood still as he waited, still pleasuring her with his finger.

"Well. . ?" He asked again.

Her will power vanished and she was held captive in the throes of her deepest desires. A sweet ecstasy claimed her.

She could feel the color flooding her cheeks and the intense dryness in her mouth prevented any words passing her lips. All she knew was sensation, overwhelmed by pleasure that any thoughts of this being wrong just melted away. It was easy to forget about what brought them here and concentrate instead on the way he was making her feel.

The only response she gave was a frantic grinding of her hips against his hardness– giving him permission to do whatever he wanted.

She desperately needed a release. It ate at her. She wanted him filling her with his arousal.

In the next second, she heard him freeing himself from the belt around his waist and the rasp of his zip. Next, her robe was being dragged slowly against the back of her legs like a caress.

The cool air rushed over her heated exposed skin.

"Are you comfortable?" He asks, positing himself and holding her by the waist gently.

His hard arousal slipped sensually between the seam of her butt and slide tantalizing slow to her opening.

She almost jumped out of her skin.

"Answer me, Yasmina. I will not continue without your consent." His tone was hard. "I don't want to hurt you."

She whimpered. She was so hot and hungry for him, in the throes of a powerful sexual attraction she could barely think, let alone speak.

He drifted his fingers inside the robe and took her bare breast in his hand, cupping it experimentally and feeling her knees buckle.

"Oh!" She squealed.

"Beautiful." He breathed in her ear.

The last of her control snapped.

Her thighs parted to receive him and thrust her hips back to take him inside her. Her entrance engulfed the head of his arousal and she heard him groan deeply in his chest. He gripped her waist tightly, holding her still.

"I need to hear you say it, Yasmina. Tell me you want me." He demanded harshly.

Without even knowing what she was doing, she whispered. "Please."

"Please what?"

Please hurry.

With perfect control, he pumped slowly in and out using only the tip to give her pleasure. It was pure torture. She needed more. Much more that she was ready to scream in frustration.

Dazed and unsteady, her arms braced themselves for support.

"I want you." She confessed, squeezing her eyes tight and biting her lip.

There it was her admission. Her complete abandonment of control with Cristiano had bordered on insanity.

He plunged deep inside her tight sheath and effortlessly lifted her hips so he could give it to her deep. He began to move, slowly at first, wanting to prolong it, to make it last. He made a broken little cry as he thrust in and out of her knowing he had never been this hard before.

He felt the thrust of her hips towards him in an unspoken plea and he thrust deeper hearing her throaty moan of satisfaction. He could feel her climax building, even though he could have come in an instant he held back. He held back even though it nearly killed him. She was as tight and delectable as he remembered.

It had been months since he's had a woman. She was the last and only woman he made love to since they separated.

A groan came from his lips again as he thrust into her again and again, causing her overly large breasts to move with each forced of his thrust.

Leaning forward, he bit her neck as the pleasure began to spiral with her. Her whole body began to shake, so tense she could hardly breathe. She felt him explode inside her with a shout, and she screamed, rocked hard from behind, devouring the most intense pleasure she'd ever known.

She fell forward and laid on her side on the bed, weak and spent. It took Jasmine several minutes to open her eyes, but when she did Cristiano was looking down at her. His dark eyes were fierce, guarded.

But then he reached down to caress her cheek and studied her for a long time.

The discovery of what she did had her closing her eyes to hide her feelings from him. She had succumbed to some temporary kind of madness. Her pulse thundered erratically before she could bring it under control. She hoped he didn't actually believe this mended things between them. He would likely misinterpret what occurred and she couldn't let that happen.

Once she reopened her eyes, her features were frozen in a smooth mask of ice. It's thickness had to withstand Cristiano's attempt to penetrate it.

"Thank you." There was dry mockery in her voice.

She rose slightly only to lean on her elbow in a show of relaxed indifference.

He frowns. "What for?"

"I needed that–my hormones have been driving me crazy. You were here and I–". Jasmine stops watching this features transform.

The cutting and ruthlessly cold Cristiano she had known was nowhere in sight.

His eyes widened in astonishment. Then they transformed. He visibly stiffened and looked as if his features were carved from stone; they were hard and unmoving.

He was offended.

Heat crept up his neck, feeling insulted. He had only serviced her, good enough for sex but not good enough to be her husband in every sense of the word. With an effort he fought against the slow burn of rage.

"You didn't honestly believe because we had sex that we're going to end up as some kind of happy family, now did you?" Pushing some stray hair behind her ears and surveyed him, her calm expression belying the painful thunder of her heart.

She had to hurt him like he had hurt her. He needed to feel the same way she did when he used her.

"So I was only performing for your pleasure?" He flared, and controlled his temper with effort.

His reply hit her in the stomach.

She had never played this dirty in her entire life. But at least she'd give him a taste of his own medicine. But what killed her more is he believed her. He couldn't see through the facade like she was hoping.

She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry.

"Frustrating isn't it?" She taunted softly, raising an eyebrow. "To know you've been used for sex. Thank you again, you really don't know how much I needed it."

A mask of control slipped over his features, changing his image from one of a angry lover to a cool, poker-faced gambler. His indifferent dark gaze flickered over her before he walked to the door. He paused to send her one last look, his expression unreadable. Then the door was closing behind him.

Jasmine lifted her body and stood on wobbly legs, wrapping the robe around her body again and disappearing into the bathroom and locking the door. She leaned against it and blew out a breath.

That was cruel but necessary. Held prisoner in her condition, under the influence of her raging pregnancy hormones, it helped her achieve something she would never have been able to do if she were thinking straight. She was dying to make him feel and see how it was when one was used and discarded as an inconvenience.

This was her only shot.

Not amount of explanations would make him understand. No matter how much she avoided him to prove the point she did not need him. This one action which came to her, those two simple words thank you, after the act was completed will help him understand his own actions towards her.

This is what she had been missing. Her little own revenge.

But it tasted bitter. It wasn't as sweet as she expected. It didn't make her feel good. It gave her no satisfaction.

Although she was sexually satisfied, her body humming with the lasting effects of her orgasm and feeling like it was floating, her heart was heavy like a lump of coal. Her brain was just as satisfied as her body. But her heart was not satisfied.

Her heart was beating like a drum in her chest as her hand moves from her sides to lay on her lower abdomen. She told herself she was crying because of her hormones. They were making her an emotional mess but she was sure, as sure as the earth turned, she was crying because of her broken heart.

This was not her. She wasn't cruel. She wasn't spiteful. Who had she become?

Her behavior didn't make her any better than him and it made her feel sick to her stomach.

What had she done?

_______________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading everybody.  I made this one extra extra long.  This update is well over 6,ooo words.  Consider it a double update in one day because I will be needing a short break due to personal obligations. 

Expect the next update the first Friday of December.  I have one more chapter to go (I think) before the Epilogue.  We are almost done! 

Thanks for your patience in advance!  Please vote, comment and share this story with others.

Shaz