The Contract

Humiliation

Y/N's POV

When she woke up it took her a minute to remember where she was and why her body felt so...satisfied. When she realized she was under the naked, sleeping form of her husband though, her memories came back crystal clear. And she didn't know how she felt about them.

Everything in her had screamed for her to hold back, not let herself be vulnerable, but that was the problem with sex. You couldn't avoid being vulnerable. And the temptation to just not stress, just let him get things sorted, well...she'd surrendered to it.

She had been that vulnerable once before and had been badly burned. But that didn't erase her need for touch and intimacy, even if she wasn't convinced she could ever have it. She gently tugged her fingers through his slightly frizzy hair, feeling how the constant dye jobs he'd subjected himself to the past couple years had affected it.  Her eyes traveled down the blanket covering his attractive body, despite herself she had enjoyed looking at and feeling it last night.

What now? Well, now she'd better hope she was pregnant. Because if she wasn't this would keep happening until she was. She pushed away long-past memories, trying to remind herself this was the here and now and not the past. She wasn't sure, as great as the sex was, if she could handle this emotional aftermath every time.

She felt him stir and his fingers slide along her bare shoulder.

"Mmmmm, Y/N?" His voice was husky with sleep and his eyes were still closed.

"Deh?"

"You're great." He mumbled into her neck. Even though he couldn't see, she attempted a half smile. He seemed to drift back to sleep and she started contemplating how to get out from underneath him without waking him up. She felt too vulnerable without clothes. "Y/N?" Maybe he wasn't as asleep as she thought.

"Mmmm?"

"Are you okay?"  His voice was thick.

"Why...?" She had barely moved, why was he asking? She heard a loud sigh and then he grunted and rolled off her, rubbing his eyes and yawning. She wrapped the blankets around her chest and sat up.

"Hey." He was looking up at her now and despite being sleepy, looked wide-awake.

"Yeah?" She was avoiding eye contact.

"Hey, Y/N." He reached for her hand.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" She bit her lip, briefly debating if she should tell him anything. Two weeks ago the temptation would have been stronger. But now...they were on the same team and yet opponents. They'd become opponents as soon as they'd stepped foot into his uncle's office. "What's wrong?" He pressed softly. She ran her fingers through her hair and quietly cursed, her memories were getting to her.

"Nothing. Just...just things I shouldn't think about." He didn't say anything else and let her slip her hand out of his and get out of bed.

He wasn't sure if he could say anything. He was the only person who was close enough to her to understand the pain and humiliation she'd been subjected to most recently. But he was the tool used to press that pain and humiliation on her. And that made it hard for her to open up her heart fully. It made her just want to run away.

As she stepped in the shower, she realized in a moment of clarity that's what she was feeling. Humiliation. Shame. And then anger. Anger at that monstrous man, sitting in his stupid mansion, sacrificing human lives for his stupid company.