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B LISSFUL WAS THE ONLY way to describe the next chapter in Arabella’s life, of which the nights had become her favorite part of the day. Arabella being Arabella, she tried hiding it from the staff, but all the smirks and knowing looks they sent her way told Arabella she was failing miserably in concealing her happiness. And to be perfectly honest, she wasn’t really that bothered. How could she when Aurélien was everything she could have ever asked for – and more?

As a lover, he was quite imaginative and wonderfully unpredictable, and by that she meant kinky as hell. One day, he would have a pole temporarily installed in her room, and somehow he’d be able to convince Arabella to dance for him. Another day he had her blindfolded and her wrists chained above her head, and he would take her from behind, not speaking a word until both of them were cumming. Sometimes, he would make her literally cry with the way he was taking his time fucking her. Other times, he would take her in the most deliciously rough way while talking oh-so-dirty in French. Or at least she thought it was dirty. French was such a pretty language it was hard to tell the difference between curses and compliments.

Whatever he did, Arabella enjoyed every minute of it – or at least she did until the jerk had deliberately let it slip that Mr. Temps was in charge of acquiring his little joys.

And then there was his stamina. Oh sweet heavens, the man could go for hours, it was unreal! She had thought that women passing out in sheer exhaustion from making love was a myth – until Aurélien had made her come three times in less than two hours. By the fourth time, she had literally fainted, and when she had woken up, the bastard had been so gorgeously cocky she was torn between slapping him and begging him to do it again.

All in all, his bedroom skills were certainly without par, but if one were to ask what she loved most about the French billionaire, Arabella would have to say it was his company. She genuinely enjoyed being him, and with the exception of Maurice, Arabella hadn’t found any other man who was as intellectually stimulating while at the same time willing to put up with her fiery ways. She loved the way Aurélien was willing to engage in debate with her on any given topic, loved how he was able to respect her opinion and argue at the same time.

In fact, the man seemed to know her so well that it was as if he knew her thoughts even before she could decipher them. On their first week as lovers, the billionaire had gifted her with a fully equipped art studio built next to the mansion’s garden. It was so she could continue improving her craft , Aurélien had said, and at the same time keep her busy during the day.

And it was only when Aurélien had said the words that Arabella realized she had started to get bored with her life on the island, with nothing to do in the hours that Aurélien was away.

Like she said, perfect – which was why the instances in which Aurélien occasionally displayed his own vulnerable insecurities never failed to make her heart twinge. There was this one instance when he had entered her bedroom while she had been curled up in the settee, browsing a travel magazine, and he had asked from the shadows, “Are you missing the outside world, ma belle ?”

“No, I was just...looking for something to read.” A blur went past her as she stammered out her lie, and by the time her words ended, the fire had also gone out. Low-key Superman, Arabella thought. It was what she had come to think of the extraordinary little things he did in the cover of darkness, a way for her to stay sane when she thought of how impossibly fast and strong he could be.

Like now.

One moment Arabella was alone on the settee, another moment they were on the bed, with Aurélien flat on his back and Arabella riding him astride. “Jesus Christ, Aurélien, you’re going to kill me with a heart attack one of these days!”

But Aurélien didn’t even laugh. “Are you regretting the choice you made to stay with me?”

Oh. Understanding too late where he was coming from, she shook her head, saying vehemently, “I love being with you, Aurélien.” And it was true. But when the billionaire still didn’t say a word, she realized with a grimace she should have known better than to hope Aurélien wouldn’t see through her.

He always did...because he loved her.

“I am a little sad at times,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Because of your father?”

“That’s one thing, yes, but...” A wistful note entered her voice as she explained, “I also wish I could go places with you, even just Paris. I mean, I’ve seen a bit of it already with Papa, but I feel like it would be different – more special – if I walked around the city with you.”

“Well...I am a billionaire.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant, so stop fishing for compliments.”

“No, truly, I do not know,” Aurélien protested ever-so-innocently. “So humor me, ma belle. Tell me how it would be different.”

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, she said, “Well...I guess it’s because you’re so... French? And you’re so—-”

“Je ne sais quoi?”

Even though she didn’t understand a word he said, she did know when she was being played for a fool, and Arabella glowered down at the billionaire in the darkness. “Low blow, dude. You know I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” she said irritably. “What does it mean anyway?”

And for some reason, this only made the Frenchman chuckle. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she demanded, even more annoyed now.

But this only made the billionaire’s body shake with even more laughter. “Ah, mon coeur, you may bear a strong resemblance to Belle—-”

“Who the hell is Belle?”

“But you’ve adorable similarities to Gaston.”

And because she wasn’t much of a Disney baby, it took Arabella a few more seconds than usual to realize she was being insulted.

“Asshole!” She started pummeling his chest, striking him as hard as she could, but the damn billionaire seemed to be made of stone and it just felt like she was only hurting herself in the process.

“Enough, ma belle .”

“Not until you bleed,” she snarled. “You fucking—-no!”

The telltale ripping sounds told her he was once again getting rid of her clothes.

And then she was naked, and the next moment, he was pulling her down, impaling her in one go. “A better use of your energy, don’t you think?”

“A...a...a...asshole!”

He laughed under her, making her want to retort, but with Aurélien taking hold of her hips so he could drive deeper into her, all Arabella could do was moan anew.

And so it continued, and as the days passed, the more they believed that they could stay in their glass house forever.

But they could not.