Chapter 3 Chapter Three

“What! Are you joking right now?” Xander asked again.

Suspicion prickled at him. Was this some kind of setup? Had the accident, the tears, all of it been a damn ploy to corner him? Maybe she knew who he was?

“I mean it,” she whispered. “You said you’re single. I’m single. So—” she swallowed hard, forcing the words out, “—will you have sex with me tonight, and marry me tomorrow? I can have a wedding dress delivered immediately. And…” her lips curved into the faintest, bitter smile, “…I’m beautiful, aren’t I?”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Xander’s eyes narrowed at her.

Riana wanted to vanish. This wasn’t her, but heartbreak had hollowed her out, and desperation was steering her tongue now.

Finally, Xander broke the silence.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “you’re beautiful. But I don’t understand. Why me? Why the hell would you want me to take you to bed and then take you to the altar? What’s the game here?”

“Look,” she said finally. “I’ve spent years living in the shadow of a mistake. The worst mistake of my life.” Her throat tightened. “And now… I need to make one more. Just one more mistake before I lose my mind completely.” She gave a broken laugh. “Someone betrayed me, and I want them to pay.”

Xander frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. You want revenge, and your plan is… what? To use me? That includes dragging me into your bed?”

“Yes.” Her voice cracked, but her gaze didn’t falter. “Because if I do this, maybe, just maybe I’ll forgive myself for what I allowed before. Don’t try to understand me. I don’t need you to.” She wiped angrily at her tears. “All I want is sex and marriage, nothing more. It would be a marriage of convenience where we’ll live like strangers. You won’t interfere in my life, and I won’t interfere in yours. Hell, I might even disappear after the wedding. I don’t want to know anything about you beyond your name.”

Xander studied her intently. She could almost feel him turning it over in his mind.

And then, to her shock, a smile ghosted across his face. It wasn't mocking nor cruel, it was the one with a strange amusement, understanding and recognition.

Xander remembered his father’s ultimatum: marry before the week is out or lose everything.

“Well, that’s convenient,” he murmured. “But let’s get something straight.” His eyes locked onto hers. “What do I gain out of this? Because right now, it sounds like you’re the only one walking away with something.”

Riana’s lips parted, but before she could form words, his voice hardened. “And don’t think I don’t see that you’re upset and hurt. Whatever you’re running from, you’re not thinking straight. What was this ‘mistake’ you made? Maybe if you tell me, I can pull you back before you throw yourself off this cliff.”

“No,” she whispered. “You won’t understand. You can’t.”

And before he could press further, she did the unthinkable. Her fingers slid to the straps of her dress. Instantly, she peeled it off her shoulders, letting the fabric pool to the floor. Naked and trembling, but defiant, she stood before him.

“Please,” she pleaded. “Just… have sex with me.”

Xander’s jaw clenched. His gaze flicked over her body, heat flaring instinctively, but he forced his eyes away, dragging a hand across his face.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered. “I can’t. Not like this. You’re hurting and not thinking. And believe me, this isn’t the solution.”

She stepped closer, her bare pale skin illuminated by the dim light.

He held up a hand, stopping her inches away.

“Listen to me. If it’s marriage you want, I can do that. I’ll marry you, but sex?” His voice dropped, hoarse with the effort it took to control himself. “Not like this.”

"I'm not looking for solutions," Riana replied, pressing her body flush against him. "I just need a reprieve tonight. Right now."

Before Xander could answer, she pulled his face down and kissed him hard.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his hands hovering awkwardly as if torn between pulling her away and giving in. But the heat of her lips, the tremble of her body against his, snapped something inside him. He grabbed her waist, dragged her closer, and kissed her back without hesitation.

Her knees nearly buckled when he lifted her easily into his arms. She gasped against his mouth as he carried her to the bed, setting her down with surprising gentleness.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned over her, eyes searching hers.

"Are you sure you want this?" His voice was almost hoarse.

"Yes," she said, firmly. "I’m sure."

That was all he needed.

His lips crashed back onto hers as his weight pressed her into the mattress. His hands weren’t gentle now, they roamed hungrily on her body. He broke the kiss only to lower his mouth to her neck, biting just hard enough to make her moan, then soothing the sting with his tongue.

Her nipples tightened as the cool air hit her bare skin, but before she could shiver, his hands closed over her breasts, kneading them roughly. The shock of pleasure made her arch her back, pushing herself into his palms.

"Fuck," she breathed, grabbing at his head.

He chuckled against her skin, dragging his mouth down until his lips found one of her nipples. He circled his tongue lazily around the hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth. Her nails dug into his shoulders, a strangled sound escaping her throat.

Her hand slipped down between them, desperate, until she felt the hard bulge pressing against his towel. She palmed him through the fabric, squeezing lightly, and his low groan vibrated against her breast.

"Christ, woman," he muttered, hips twitching into her hand.

Her body trembled when his fingers finally slid down her stomach, brushing over her pussy. She was already wet, soaked and the moment she kissed him, she gasped and clutched the sheets in one hand, the other gripping his hair tightly.

"You’re drenched," he murmured against her chest, slipping one finger inside her pussy.

Her head fell back, eyes squeezing shut as her lips parted in a shaky moan. He added another finger, curling them inside her, and the slick sounds of him working her open filled the room. She tried to stifle her moans by biting her lip, but when he quickened the pace, thrusting his fingers harder and deeper, flicking her clit, she broke, crying out shamelessly.

Her thighs trembled as the pressure built fast. She clung to him, nails scraping against his scalp as her body tensed.

"Please," she panted. "Please just fuck me already."

But instead of giving her what she begged for, he slowed, teasing her, keeping her right at the edge. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, "Not yet, sweetheart. I want to see your creamy dessert first."

Her answering whimper was half-plea, half-curse, but his relentless pace didn’t allow her time to argue. The knot inside her snapped, and she shattered against him, her entire body trembling as waves of release tore through her.

"Good girl," he rasped, dragging his soaked fingers from her.

She was still gasping for breath when he unwrapped his towel to free himself, his thick length already flushed and straining with precum dripping from the head. Positioning himself between her spread thighs, he rubbed the head against her slick entrance.

"Xander—" she started, but the rest was swallowed by a scream as he thrust into her in one hard stroke, filling her completely.

Her back arched off the bed, the stretch almost too much, but the burn gave way quickly to overwhelming pleasure. He pulled back and slammed into her again, setting a ruthless rhythm that left her clinging to him with tears at the corners of her eyes.

"Fuck—" she gasped, her nails clawing down his back. "Don’t stop, please don’t stop."

He grunted, fucking into her deeper, harder, their bodies slapping together with each thrust. The bed creaked beneath them, but neither cared. She matched his rhythm desperately, rolling her hips against him, chasing every ounce of friction he gave her.

Her moans turned into cries, raw and unrestrained, as another climax built far too quickly. She tried to beg him to slow down, to let her breathe, but all that came out were broken, incoherent whimpers.

And then she shattered again, harder this time, clenching around him so tightly he cursed against her shoulder.

Still, he didn’t stop. He drove her through it, dragging every ounce of pleasure from her until she was trembling violently beneath him.

Then at the end of the night as she laid in his arms, Xander discovered a shocking thing that he didn't feel irritated by this woman, or the itches of his skin like it always did. How come? Who's she really?

That night, Riana, who’d once believed sex was cold and frigid was shown how wrong she’d been. With every thrust, every kiss, every desperate sound ripped from her throat, the stranger rewrote what she thought she knew about herself, her body, and desire.

---

The next morning, Xander blinked awake, disoriented, only to be greeted by the surreal sight of the woman he’d spent the night with now in a wedding dress, clutching a flower like some twisted bride out of nowhere.

Before he could even process, her voice cut through the silence.

“Get up, your suit is ready. The driver’s waiting to take us to the venue.” Her tone was blunt and commanding, not even a glance of courtesy. “You’re benefitting from this deal too, remember.”

Xander sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy hair, his lips curving into a wry smirk. “Hmm…So how’re you this morning?”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Throwing the sheets aside, he stood and headed for the bathroom, stark naked.

Riana’s breath caught and her head snapped away, her cheeks burning red.

“God, do you have no shame?” she muttered, clutching the flower like a shield.

“Why?” he drawled, glancing at her flushed face before deliberately stretching, flexing muscles that didn’t need flexing. “You weren’t exactly shy about it last night.”

Her jaw tightened, but she refused to respond.

Satisfied with the reaction, Xander chuckled under his breath and finally reached for a robe, tying it lazily around his waist. “By the way,” he said casually, “I should at least know your name before I walk into a wedding with you.”

“You don’t need to know that. You’ll hear it when the priest says it at the altar. And lest I forget, my parents will be there.” she replied.

“What?!”

“Yes. You don’t expect me to get married without my parents present, do you? Relax. The ceremony will be quick. Ten minutes and it’s done.”

“Fine. Then my father will be there too.” He stepped close. “And you’ll promise me that after the wedding, you won’t run. Not for at least a year.”

Riana’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Are you insane? This isn’t even a real marriage, it’s a facade!”

“Deal or no deal,” he countered. “You don’t get to use me for your convenience alone. If we’re doing this, we use each other.”

Her lips parted, fists clenching. “I didn’t use you. We both know what happened last night and don’t you dare stand there and pretend you didn’t enjoy it.” Her gaze narrowed, even her own cheeks flushed at the memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His tone was flat. “Deal. Or no deal?”

Time was slipping through her fingers. Her parents had been calling all morning. Brian and Fred too. The audacity of those two men to call her after what they’d done made her blood boil. Even Grace hadn't been left out. She didn’t have the luxury to argue with this infuriating man.

Riana clenched her fists, swallowing her pride. “Fine, deal.”

Xander gave a satisfied nod, as if he’d known she’d cave. “Good. Then once we’re back from the ceremony, we’ll draft a contract. I hadn’t planned on that before, but now, It’ll be ready.”

Without waiting for her reply, he disappeared into the bathroom.

Riana's nails dug into her palm until it hurt. It’s only for a while, she reminded herself. I’ll end this on my terms.

Her phone buzzed again on the nightstand. Ignoring them all, she scrolled to her father’s contact and hit dial. He picked up immediately, his voice already sharp.

“Where the hell—?”

She cut him off

coldly. “Dad, you and Mom, bring Brian and Fred too. I’ll send you the location. You’ll see everything for yourself.”

And without another word, she ended the call.