Greed

chapter 17

Sky's POV

I can't believe you had sex in the library," ple said

I flushed l'd told our friends what happened at the club, which was a mistake in hindsight because ple hadn't stopped teasing me about it.

I was just glad my friends weren't grilling me about prapai. They'd been shocked but not necessarily surprised by my sex confession. I was as confused about the status of my relationship as they were.

P'pai and I had left each other a few voice notes since that day. They were generic greetings like Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, but he'd also sent a handwritten note and a custom jewelry-making kit for the holidays. I was surprised and touched that he'd remembered the casual hobby I'd picked up in Phuket, but there was only so much we could say via text and gifts. We were overdue for a real conversation.

My phone buzzed with a new message while my friends wound down their play fight.
Speak of the devil.
My heart leapt in my throat. P'pai rarely texted, which was why it took a minute for me to wrap my head around his words.

P'pai: Meet me at the xon Gallery tonight. 8pm. I have something for you.

I was too curious not to show.
After my friends left, I took the subway to the xon Gallery on the west side, where P'pai waited in the reception area.

The first thing I noticed were god damn handsome face he was dressed in black shirt which was very rare to see as he's always dressed in suits. He had some bruises along his chin. He told me it's because of the boxing match with his uncle forth. It happened because he was distracted with some thoughts, it didn't took me time to recognise the cause of his distraction.

I reached for him out of instinct before hesitating. We weren't married anymore. I had no business fussing over him the way a husband would, but the sight of him hurt had my heart tangled in knots.

It shouldn't. He was fine, and the wounds would heal. And yet... I brushed my fingers over the darkest bruise. His skin was soft beneath his stubble, and the knots tightened into a messy tangle.

I missed touching him outside of sex. I missed being able to wrap my arms around him for no reason or give him an absentminded kiss on the cheek when he was working. I missed all the little things that once made us US, but I was also too scared to fall back into my comfort zone.
A thousand knots were preferable to a second heartbreak.

P'pai watched me without moving. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, but tension lined his jaw like he was afraid he would scare me off if he made one wrong gesture.

"I'm not the only one who's bruised." Satisfaction filled P'pai face, but his eyes softened when my fingers trailed over another bruise on his jaw.

I chuckled at his response and shook my head. "I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"I didn't think you cared."

My movements stilled. Silence floated between us before I dropped my arm.

"Well, I hope you're icing it regularly," I said, skirting his reply.

"Purple-black doesn't look good with your suits."
The corner of his mouth tugged up.

"Noted."

We walked deeper into the gallery, which featured a Architectural exhibition by Yumi Hayashi. Visiting one of her exhibits had been on my bucket list for years, but the dates never lined up with my schedule, and I'd been so distracted by the divorce and Office opening I hadn't realized there was a new show this winter.

"I'm surprised you asked me to meet you here," I said. "You're not an art person."
I'd chosen all the art in the penthouse. P'pai was a genius with numbers, but if I'd left the décor up to him, the penthouse would've made a chessboard look colorful.

"I'm not, but I thought this particular exhibit would be good inspiration," P'pai said. "In case you need it for your projects."

Warmth curled in my stomach. He could be so damn sweet when he wanted. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." His soft, intimate murmur ghosted down my spine.
The earlier electricity returned, sending tiny zips through my chest until I dragged a much-needed breath into my lungs.

"I guess it's not a popular exhibition," I said, trying desperately not to notice the way his body heat sank into my skin or the brush of his shirt against my arm. "There's no one else here."

"I hired out the gallery." P'pai pushed a hand into his pocket. "It's better without the crowds, and I wanted to be alone with you."

I couldn't summon an adequate reply to that.
The exhibition consisted of seven rooms, each themed around the architecture design of different regions. I didn't speak again until we reached the seventh and final exhibit featuring architect native to Asia.

"About what happened that day." I stopped in front of a giant lotus lantern. It was the room's only source of light, but it was enough to illuminate the tension lining P'pai shoulders. "I..." The right words fought to escape. "I can't promise anything more than sex."

He was the only man who could set me on fire with one touch. Denying our attraction was futile, and my pre-Christmas dry spell had been torturous. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed physical touch until I received it.
Was entering a sex-only relationship with my ex-husband a terrible idea? Absolutely. But we were already on this ride; I might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
P'pai's eyes flickered in the dim lights. "I can work with that."

That's it? I wasn't sure whether my next breath contained relief or disappointment. I'd expected him to push back, but he seemed willing to follow my guidelines.
However, surprise tripped my heartbeats when P'pai slowly moved behind me. Silence thrummed and held me captive as his warm breath trailed sensation down my spine and his fingers traced up my arms.

My back brushed his front, and the hairs on the nape of my neck rose in anticipation. It hurt to be this close to him, to feel the intimacy that we'd lost. Every rise and fall of his chest caused mine to clench; every beat of our hearts hammered home a reminder.

Goose bumps shivered across my skin when he kissed my neck. The memory of his lips against my skin was the sweetest torture, soft yet firm, gentle yet commanding.

"What do you want, love?" he whispered.
Our breaths echoed as he waited. P'pai never waited. He was action and movement and command. I was the one who'd always waited. I waited for dinners that we never shared and evenings together that never came.

What do I want? I wanted agency, which I'd lacked so often in our marriage. I'd walked the tightrope of dutiful husband and desire for years, and I wanted a world where I made the rules for myself instead of merely following them.
I can only promise sex.

My first implicit rule. Perhaps tonight was the night to implement it on my terms.
My heartbeats fluttered as I ran my hands across his shoulders and slowly lowered his jacket off his chest. Surprise flared on his face, but he followed my cue and slid it down his arms, folding it to the side of him. He rolled his shirtsleeves up with careful, measured movements, never taking his eyes off mine. With every flick of his wrist, the wedding band on his left hand glinted in the dim lights.

He'd never taken it off, not even after we divorced. The sight inexplicably fanned the flames slowly burning their way through my stomach. Vulnerability coursed through me while heat pooled between my legs and pulsed in an empty ache.

Our movements stilled, and we were left staring at each other as electricity buzzed through the air.
"Don't stop now," P'pai said softly. "Show me what you want." It was a plea wrapped in a simple command, but nothing about this was simple. This was the moment that surpassed everything before. This was submission in a way I'd never been part of.

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I want your advice on this about this story
Should I make prapai plea more or should I let him go. Do you think he has suffered enough or do you think it won't be right for Sky.

Please vote and let me know your opinion 🙏