Chapter Nineteen

 

There is no expectation, implied or stated, that the parties’ union will ever be consummated.

Clause 4- Physical Activity Between Parties

 

“The wizards finally called me back.”  Gwen said, three afternoons later.  “They want to meet us.”

Midas grunted, looking completely unenthusiastic about the prospect of traveling to the Emerald City. “Fine.  I’ll take you out there tomorrow.”

He was working to repair his bejeweled elevator, standing on a ladder with the control panel open and lots of impressive tools lying around.  The bomb had knocked it out of alignment and Midas didn’t seem to trust anyone else to fix it properly.

Carefully vetted contractors were already working to rebuild the rest of the house.  Midas’ palace was huge, so the bomb hadn’t impacted most of it.  The bedrooms and kitchen were fine.  He’d just sealed off the East Wing, so the repairs could be finished without impacting life for anyone living there.  The most upsetting part of the whole ordeal had been digging out Jill’s body and giving her a proper funeral.  Otherwise, everyone had bounced back quickly.  Midas’ shoulder was healing, Gwen didn’t even have a twinge of a headache, and Avalon couldn’t stop talking about how Trystan had carried her up into the sky.

“The wizards want to meet us, Midas.”  Gwen reiterated, stressing the pronoun.  “They want to talk to you, too.”

He glanced at her and she could see his doubts.  “About what?”

“You’re going to be king.”  She stood in the gilded doorway, watching him work.  “They just want to be sure you’re not all the vile things Arthur said you were.”

His jaw tightened.  “And if I am?”

“You’re not.”

He didn’t seem convinced.

“This will work, Midas.”  She assured him.  “Besides the Scarecrow hates the Emerald City.  If my father hid the wand with that jackass in mind, ‘the last place he’d want to look,’ will be somewhere inside those walls.  This could be our best chance to find it.”

Midas sighed and rotated his shoulder.

Gwen was instantly concerned by the uncomfortable motion.  “Are you feeling okay?”  A witch-practitioner had come to hasten the healing of his bullet wound with magical medicines, but you couldn’t be too careful.  “Do you need to sit down?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re doing too much.  You should be resting.  Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll make you some soup?  Wait.  Shit, I have no idea how to cook soup.  A pie!”  She nodded enthusiastically.  “I make an excellent pecan pie.  Do you want a pie?”

His lips quirked up at the corners.  “Maybe later.”  He climbed down the ladder to stand in front of her.  “Let’s backtrack to the wizards.  They aren’t going to support you for queen, if you’re married to me.  That’s the bottom line here.”

“Of course they will.  They have to.  It’s the law.”

“No Good folk will ever put a Bad folk on the throne, regardless of what the rules say.  Trust me.”  He crooked a finger at her, beckoning her closer.  “Stand out of the way, kitten.  I’m going to test the door.

She stepped into the elevator car, her eyes staying on him.  “If the wizards won’t support our partnership, then we’ll win Camelot without them.”

Midas didn’t respond to that.  He hit the glittery “close” button and the door slid shut.

Gwen smiled.  He’d done it.  She’d never had a doubt.  Midas could do anything.  “Besides, the wizards will love you.”  She assured him.  Nobody who met this man could fail to see how special he was.  “Really.  You don’t need to worry.  My father was friends with all these guys.  That’s why they’re opening the gates for us.  They’re like my uncles.”

“And I’m just the guy every man wants for a nephew-in-law.”  He muttered, climbing back up the ladder to secure the control panel.

She made an “umm” sound, barely listening.  When he stretched his arms up to screw the door closed, the muscles in his biceps bulged and it was… awesome.  She could’ve happily watched him all day.

Midas didn’t seem to notice her mentally undressing him.  “Gwen, we need to have a serious talk.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Were you?  Well… good.  I expected that.  By now, you’re seeing this whole idea is crazy, right?  Trying to make me king is just not going to work.  I’m glad we agree.”

“Huh?”  What was he talking about?

He looked frustrated, realizing that she wasn’t paying attention.  “It would be better if you tried to work out a deal where you would be queen, without me being king.  They’ll give you the crown a lot easier.”

Gwen squinted.  “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not.”  He argued, warming to his topic.  “We can stay married, but I don’t have to be involved in ruling Camelot or…”

Gwen cut him off.  “I can’t do this without you, Midas.  Equal partners.”

He studied her determined face for a moment.  “Fuck.”

Gwen bit back a grin, hearing victory in the quiet oath.  The man cursed waaaay too much, but he could infuse “fuck” with so much meaning that it was hard not to appreciate his talent.  “Now that we’ve settled that, why don’t we discuss what I wanted to talk about?  It’s really a lot more interesting.”

“Fine.”  Midas dropped down from the ladder, looking annoyed at the world.  “What’s on your mind?”

“Us.”

“Us?”  He echoed warily and sent her a suspicious look.  “You and me?”

“Yes, you and me!  What other ‘us’ is there, dummy?”

“I’m not sure.  I’ve never been part of an ‘us’ before, so…”

Gwen cut him off, focused on her new goal.  “We need to think about taking the next step, Midas.”  She’d given him time and it was glaringly obvious he wasn’t going to initiate anything, so she’d just do it herself.  Unlike some huge mobsters, she wasn’t particularly shy.  “I know you’re feeling hesitant, but there’s really no sense in putting off the inevitable here.”

He squinted, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  “Which is what?”  He hit the button for the third floor, testing the mechanics, and the elevator slowly started moving.

“I’m glad you asked.”  She slammed her thumb down on the elevator’s emergency stop button, ignoring the way Midas had to brace his hand on the wall to stay steady as the car lurched to a halt.  She was on a mission, now.  “You said that if I ever had needs, we could renegotiate the Contract, remember?  The very first night we met.  Well, I have needs.”

Midas’ head snapped around to gape at her.  “What?”

He just wasn’t getting it.  Luckily, Gwen was a woman who knew how to drop subtle clues.  “We should have sex.  Right now.”

Midas slowly blinked, a mystified expression on his face.

Gwen pressed onward in the face of his silent astonishment.  “I mean, we’re married, and I want to, and you said we could.”

“You want to have sex?  With me?”

“Of course with you!”  Why was he so confused?  “You’re my husband, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”  The air left his lungs in a rush, like the word had knocked the breath out of him.  “I’m your husband.”  He made no move to restart the elevator.

“So --I know it’s a business deal-- but maybe we could also be closer.  It’s probably the most practical choice, all things considered.  I mean, I’m very content with our arrangement, so far.  I don’t see me breaking the Contract soon.”  She braced herself.  “Do you plan on breaking it soon?”

“I don’t ever plan on breaking it.” Total surety echoed in his tone.

Gwen sagged back in relief.

“But touching you isn’t safe.”  He continued.  “I’m not safe.  I told you that.”

“So we’ll be careful.  It will be okay if you keep your gloves on, right?  Isn’t that how you manage with other women?”

“You’re not other women.”  Midas muttered, but she could see him mulling it all over in his lightning-fast brain.  He was focused on this idea.

Gwen took that as a good sign.

“I want to reopen negotiations on Clause 7- ‘Separate Lives and Other Relationships’.”  She said candidly.  No matter what people said about “tact” and “diplomacy,” she always found it was better to just put it all out there.  “Then we can begin having sex and fulfilling my needs.”

“Clause 7 never mentions sex between us.”

“Well, I say we can’t have sex unless we are both exclusive.  So no more separate lives.”  She shook her head.  “Now, you said you’d fulfill my needs, if I ever wanted it.  That’s verbally binding.  We just need to do some negotiation on the fine print and we’ll have a workable deal.”

“Why are you doing this?”  Midas seemed genuinely baffled.  “Why do you want to have sex with me?  You could have anybody.  Knights with TV shows, for instance.  There are far better candidates for kings and husbands than some….”

She cut him off, before he could call himself a tawdry, feral animal again.  “I’m attracted to you, Midas.  I want to be with you.  You’re in my head all the time.”

Midas flinched at her words like he felt them as a physical blow and looked away, breathing hard.  “Fuck.”  For once, he actually seemed rattled.  “No.  No.  We can’t…  It would… complicate things if we had sex.” His hand came up as if he desperately wanted to hit the proper button and get the elevator moving again.

Gwen stepped in front of him, preventing him from pressing it.  “Do you not want me back?”  It came out in a smaller voice than she’d intended.  Maybe these new feelings were all one sided, after all.

That golden gaze jumped to hers, burning and hungry, and relief filled her.

“Don’t be a fool, Gwen.”  He said softly.  “I have wanted you from the second we met.  You had to have seen that.  Everyone else in Camelot has seen it.  I just don’t…  Sex isn’t…”

“You don’t like sex?”  She guessed excitedly, cutting him off.  “That’s okay.  I’ve always found it lackluster in the past, but there are other things we could do.”  Her incredible attraction to Midas made her positively creative.  She had all kinds of wonderfully shocking ideas.  “We could try them instead.”

She had his full attention, now.  “…We could?”  He asked in a strange voice and his hand dropped away from the start button.

“Absolutely.”  Gwen nodded, ready to hard-sell the details.  She felt a little bad about strong-arming Midas into another deal, but she couldn’t stop herself.  She just had to convince him or she’d go out of her mind with lust.  “I’m thinking we could agree to a safe, simple test of --like-- third base behavior.  Once a day, we could engage in said behavior and see if we enjoy it.”

Midas’ brows rose.  “See if we enjoy it?”  He echoed incredulously.

“Exactly.  We can alternate days of who’s --um-- satisfied.  If we don’t enjoy it, we can stop and go back to the way we are now.  If we do enjoy it, we can just… continue.  It’s a very practical and no-risk arrangement.”  She paused.  “If you agree to void Clause Seven.  No other women, Midas.  Not even if you find your wonderful, perfect ‘True Love.’”  She added air quotes around the word, again.

It had rattled her deeply to hear him discussing Arthur and Jill’s relationship in such black and white terms.  Not only did Midas want his True Love, he wanted her to be Bad.  He thought Good folk were cold and unfeeling.  He clearly had a picture of this girl in his head and Gwen needed to change it for him.  He could thank her later.

“Finding my True Love isn’t going to be an issue.”  He assured her.

“I know that, but I don’t think you do.”

He arched a brow.  “And what if you find your Right Man?”

Gwen shrugged, hoping he couldn’t tell her heart was pounding in her chest.  “Until one of us wants to end the Contract under Clause 11- ‘Termination of Marriage,’ we’re monogamous.”  She stipulated.  “Just you and me and no one else.”

The edges of his mouth curved.  “Just you and me and no one else.”  The words were dark and full of promise.  “Always, Gwen.”

That sounded reassuringly definite.  Still…  “If you cheat on me, I’ll leave you.”  She warned, not even considering what that would mean for Camelot.  “The very first time, will be the end of our marriage.”

Midas’ head tilted.  He didn’t look upset over the threat, just intrigued that she’d issue it.  “Why didn’t you leave Arthur, when he cheated on you?”

“I never trusted him, so it didn’t matter who else he slept with.”  Her eyes met his.  “But I do trust you, Midas.  So it would matter.  A lot.  When you tell me we’re equal partners, I believe you.  …Because I believe in you and in the fact that you’re an honorable man.”

Midas stared at her, not saying anything.

“So is it a deal?”  She prompted after a long moment of silence.

He swallowed.  “You think I’m an honorable man.  I’m not.”  His voice was serious.  “But, for you, I’m going to try one more time to talk you out of the plan.  It will complicate things.”

“Is it a deal?”  She repeated, not worried about his dire predictions.

Midas sighed and gave up.  “Of course, it’s a deal.  What the hell do you think?  I’m a fucking villain, Gwen.  Obviously, I’m going to say ‘yes’ to a plan that contractually guarantees my right to do Bad things to your Good little body.”

“Excellent.”  She held out her hand, ready to shake on it, only to pull back as she remembered another important point.  “But try not to call me by anyone else’s name when we’re together.  I don’t like that.”

Midas’s eyes went wide again.  “Arthur…?”  He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was in pain and muttering something like: “Be glad you’re dead, you fucking son of a bitch.”

Gwen frowned in confusion.  “What?”

“Never mind.”  He took a deep breath, raising his voice to normal volume.  “That’s fine.  I want to add a caveat to the deal, too.”

Gwen nearly pouted.  “What kind of caveat?”  Damn it, he was usually willing to agree to whatever deal she put in front of him.

“Clothes stay mostly on.  If we’re naked, I’m not going to be able to hold back and I don’t want to risk losing control.  If we have sex, it would be… problematic.”

Maybe someone had mistreated him in the past and now he was scared.  She couldn’t imagine why else he’d be so reluctant to consummate their marriage.  Celliwig was a terrible lawless place, so God only knew what had happened to him as a child.  Gwen’s heart broke, just thinking about some monster hurting him.  Midas might be a huge gangster on the surface, but underneath he was so gentle.  So kindhearted.  It was a wonder he’d survived, at all.

“Of course.”  She agreed softly.  “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.  I promise.”

He glanced at her sharply, as if reading her mind, and his mouth curved.  “You truly are a Good person, Gwen.”  He murmured.  “Not because you were born Good.  Because you are Good.  You’re right.  It’s actions which define us and yours are always pure.”

What a sweet thing to say.  He was totally wrong about her, but it was still sweet.  “I’m not always Good, you know.”  For instance, sometimes she pressured her gallant husband into sexually compromising situations, before he was ready.

…And didn’t even feel guilty about it.

He shook his head, not believing the truth.  “You are the best person I’ve ever known.”  He reached over to touch her hair and she expected him to pull his hand back at the last second, like he usually did.  Instead, his gloved fingers hesitantly brushed her blonde curls and he let out a long sigh.  “The very best, Gwen.”

Well, nobody could say she didn’t warn him.  “So we’re doing this, then?”  Gwen smiled and extended her hand before he could change his mind.  “As usual, it’s a pleasure doing business with you, partner.”

“Likewise.”  His fingers left her hair to shake her outstretched palm.  Instead of releasing her after the handshake, he tugged her closer to his huge body.  “Shall be begin?”

Her insides dipped at his deep tone.  “Right now?”  She looked around the elevator.  “Here?”

“Right now.”  He maneuvered backward, towards the pink velvet bench at the back of the car.  “Here.  You have needs, remember?”

“Well, the agreement is to alternate days, so you can go first.”  She offered, nerves jangling inside of her.  As usual, Midas was going along with her plan, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure she could pull it off without looking like an idiot.  What seemed easy in her head was a lot more daunting in reality.  Midas was probably used to someone with way more… pizzazz.  What if she was too beige for him?

“I can take my turn tomorrow.”  She nodded, wanting to do a good job of seducing him.  “Would you rather me use my mouth on you tonight?  Or my hands?  I’m almost positive I’d be incredible at that.”

Midas’ eyes glazed over for a second, like he was picturing that idea in his head and liking everything he saw.  “No.”  He shook his head, trying to clear it.  “Don’t distract me.”

She blew out an anxious breath as the backs of her knees hit the bench.  “Midas?”  She whispered, suddenly uncertain.  Self-assurance usually came easily to her, but this all felt so new and fragile.

One of his arms came up to brace against the ornate wall of the elevator behind her, caging her in.  It was all she could do not to spontaneously combust.  “Yes?”

“I’ve never been with anyone but Arthur.”

He seemed startled.  “No one?”

“Until you, I’ve never even kissed anybody else.  I would have,” she added, because she wanted to be totally honest, “but everyone stayed away.  From the time I was a child, everyone said I was Arthur’s.”

“They were wrong.”

“Well, nobody else seems to think so.”  She brightened.  “You are a much better kisser than he was, though.”

Midas’ mouth curved.  “You’d be surprised at how often I hear that.”

“I just wanted you to know.  About the not-having-a-lot-of sex part, I mean.”  She paused.  “You believe me, right?”

“Yes.”  His voice was gentle and predatory at the same time.  “Do you want to stop and think about this some more, kitten?”

“No, of course not.  I’m just…”  She hesitated, trying to marshal her thoughts.  “Arthur was really bad in bed and it was such a disappointment.”

Midas smirked, not looking very sympathetic.

“I’m telling you all this, because I really want to enjoy sex, so…”  She trailed off and blew out a breath, wandering how to phrase her request in a not-brash-around-the-edges way.  “So don’t suck at this, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”  He assured her dryly.

“And I’ll tell you if things start going lackluster.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.”  Golden eyes glinted with amusement.

Damn it.  Her wording had probably been too blunt, but she wasn’t sure how to soften the offer.  “You can tell me if I’m lackluster, too.”  She tacked on, trying to make it better.  “I don’t mind feedback.  I mean, I’m sort of new at this, if you don’t count a few times with Arthur.”

“Believe me, I never count Arthur.”

She took a deep breath, confidence returning.  “I think I’m going to be awesome at sex, now that my partner isn’t a total asshole.  Still, everyone can grow from constructive criticism.”  She waved a hand.  “So feel free to offer advice and I’ll do the same.”

Midas shook his head, his expression filled with something more than just lust.  “I have no idea what I did with my days before you came along, Gwen.  Everything must have been so drab and predictable.”  He dipped his head so it was next to her ear.  “Sit down on the bench for me.”

She looked behind her and then back up at him.  “Really?”

“Now.”

Well, when he put it that way…  Gwen sat on the bench, the pillow-y cushions nearly swallowing her.  It felt decadent.

“You might want to lie back.”  He suggested, his gaze hot.  “This could take a while.”

“Really?”  Gwen said again.  With Arthur it had never taken long.  Sitting on the bench and looking up at Midas felt kinda interesting, though.  He was so big and strong as he loomed over her.  It made her insides feel delightfully fizzy.

“Now.”  He knelt down in front of her, still a head taller than Gwen.  His hands slipped under her skirt and slid up the inside of her legs. “Just lay back and try not to worry so much.”

“I’m not worried.  But I know I pushed you into this, so if you feel uncomfortable or your arm hurts or you want to take a break, we could…”  His palms grazed the inside of her knees and Gwen lost her train of thought.  She felt herself sinking backwards over the cushions.

“So Arthur cheated on you, but you didn’t cheat on him.”  Midas mused quietly, still focused on her not-really-that-important confession.  “Why bother to stay faithful to that jackass?  Even if you didn’t want Galahad, there must have been others.”

“I was married.  It would’ve been wrong.”  Of course, that staunch moral stance would have lasted about two seconds if Midas had shown up.  The man was irresistible.  His gloved hands were strong and gentle and not at all like Arthur’s.  Gwen found herself melting into them.

“Right and wrong are always so clear to you.  I envy that.”

“Not really.”  She hated to deceive him about herself.  “I’m pretty heartless.  I mean, strong-arming you into this is wrong, but I did it anyway.  I know you would rather wait for your True Love.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand.”  His thumb brushed higher, skimming the inner flesh of her thigh, and she jolted.  “Is it getting lackluster, yet?”

“No, I just…”  She blinked rapidly.  Something hot and wet was beginning to tighten inside of her.  Something she’d never experienced before with anyone else in the room.  Since the world had kept other men away from Gwen, she’d invented her own.  Usually it was just her and a vibrator and some fantasies about strapping stable boys.  “You’re really not sucking at this so far.”

“Thank you.  I appreciate feedback, too.  Especially when it’s positive.”

“Just… um… let me know if you want to stop.  We can even come up with a safe-word or something, if it makes you feel more secure.”

“That’s very considerate.”

Long minutes went by as he explored her flesh and it didn’t seem like he wanted to stop.  Neither did Gwen.  She forgot about everything except Midas.  He nudged her knees, wanting more access, and she parted them as willingly as water.  Big hands reached the edge of her panties and then glided back down to her ankles.

The hot, wet tightness was getting tighter.  And wetter.  And hotter.  Okkkayyyy.  This was new.  Gwen’s breathing got faster.  “I think… you can touch me higher, if you want.”  She finally decided, needing his fingers to go just a little bit farther.  “That would be okay.”

He made a low sound of approval.  “You have beautiful legs, Guinevere.”  He leaned forward to kiss the curve of her calf, his teeth nipping her skin.

“You think so?”  She asked in surprise.

“I know so.”

“I always thought they were too short.”  Someone like Midas was probably used to tall, curvy showgirl types.  “Maybe a little lackluster?”

“No.  They’re absolutely perfect.”  His tongue rasped across a freckle and she stopped arguing.  Her eyes drifted shut in pleasure, as his hands traveled back up to her thighs and his mouth followed it.

“You are definitely not lackluster, either.”  Without even thinking about it, her palms caressed his thick hair, still urging him higher.  “Whatever you’re doing, you should just keep it up.  I think you’re really onto something here.”  There was a hitch to her voice now.  “Please, just a little higher.”

The small plea sent a rumbling growl through him.  Teeth grazed her inner thigh and she could barely breathe.

“In fact, you should probably do more.” She recommended.  “Do more and don’t stop.  I know I said you could stop, but don’t stop.  Please, please, please don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to stop, kitten.”  He assured her in a husky tone.  “Don’t worry.  Nothing in the world could make me stop.”

His head was between her legs now and she barely noticed.  It was hard to focus on anything except how hot and wet and tight she felt.  “Midas.”  She needed more, but she wasn’t sure how to ask for it.  “Please.” Her hips instinctively arched towards him.

He met her gaze over the length of her body and his hand finally slid under the edge of her panties.  Unerringly, he touched the spot that was throbbing for his attention and Gwen sighed in relief.  Finally.  Even through the gloves, he could no doubt feel the moisture coating her hidden thatch of curls.  That should probably embarrass her, but it didn’t.

Gwen just wanted more.

“Oh yes.”  Her head went back as he played with her weeping flesh.  Her knees fell all the way open, giving him total access.  “Oh God.”  Her eyes were wide and sightless.  “Oh please.”  She didn’t even notice when the panties were tugged off completely, all her attention on the massive finger filling her.  He tunneled it deeper, stretching her small channel, and Gwen gave a desperate cry.

“Jesus.”  He was sweating, now.  “You’re so tight.”  He watched his hand move with a rapturous expression.  “So beautiful.  Can you take another one, kitten?”  He began squeezing a second finger into her, without giving her a chance to respond and Gwen whimpered in need.  The sound had his breath sawing in and out.  “That’s it.  That’s my Good girl.”

She wasn’t feeling very Good at the moment.  In fact, she felt wonderfully, gloriously Bad.  Gwen bit down on her lower lip, trying to hang on.  Not even her strapping stable boy fantasies were this amazing.

“So tight.”  His voice was thick as he pressed both fingers home.  “And small.  Fucking hell, you’re small.”  He shook his head, as if he was trying to focus.  “Goddamn it, I’m so much bigger than you, Gwen.”

“I know.”  It came out as a purr.  The weight of his fingers felt incredible inside of her.  Gwen’s hips moved, riding them up and down, needing something just out of reach.

“Goddamn it.”  He said again and it was somewhere between a snarl and a groan.  “This is wrong.  You’re too delicate for me to touch.  I’m rough and coarse and you’re like fucking silk and magic.”  He started to draw back.  “What am I doing?  My hands shouldn’t be on you.  I could hurt you.  I can’t…”

Her palm came up to cradle his face and he stopped talking, like he’d been hypnotized.  Golden eyes locked on hers, his cheek unconsciously leaning into her touch.  In that moment, the Kingpin of Camelot was totally at her mercy.

“You’re not hurting me.”  She promised.  “You would never hurt me, Midas.”

“You want me to keep touching you?”  He sounded like he needed to make sure.

“Yes.”  She smiled up at him.  “I’m not going to break.  I promise.  I’m just the right size for you.  Do whatever you want to do, just keep doing it.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Anything.  Just don’t stop.  Please.”

He slowly smiled at that and dipped his head.  “Alright.”  He gently blew over her soaked flesh and Gwen saw stars.

“Midas.”

The sound of his name had him growling in lust.  “My wife.”  His mouth settled on her wet, naked, aching core.  “Mine.”

Gwen screamed, her hands fisting in his dark hair.  Wanting to push him away.  Wanting to pull him even closer.  His tongue and his lips and his teeth…  It was all too much.  It was happening too fast.  She tried to twist beneath him, afraid of the sensation building inside of her.  Those massive hands seized her hips, not letting her escape.  Demanding all of her.  Licking and sucking and it was actually going to happen!  She was going to…

He stopped.

Gwen gave a choked cry, her horrified eyes finding his.  “What are you doing?”  She wailed.  “Don’t stop.  I told you not to stop!  You promised you wouldn’t stop!”

“I’m renegotiating.”  He was out of breath.  “Next time, you’re naked.  My clothes have to stay on, but you’re fucking naked in my arms, Gwen.”

She needed to climax so badly she was shivering.  She’d never come with another person before.  She hadn’t thought she could come with another person, but Midas was making it happen.  “Your pants come off.”  She got out, because he’d never respect her if she took the first offer.  “Now fucking finish.”

He gave an un-Midas like grin at her negotiating and leaned over her.  One hand braced by her head, while his other pressed open the swollen folds of her body.  “I just love that it’s impossible to know what you’re going to say next.”  Those big fingers surged inside of her, as deep as they could go, and there was no way to hold back.

“Oooohhhh.”  Gwen’s whole body came off the velvet bench, the force of her orgasm bowing her back.  “MidasMidasMidasMidas!”

The hand beside her head fisted, his expression savage, as she chanted his name.  Those magnificently Bad fingers kept up their relentless assault, triggering another explosion even stronger than the first.

“Oh yessssss!”  She was shouting and she didn’t even care.

Neither did Midas.  He stared down at her in awe.  “So, that’s what it’s like to finally have the best.”  He murmured hoarsely.  “No wonder everything else felt like a cheap imitation.”

Gwen barely heard him.  Waves of pleasure beat at her senses, wiping her mind clean of everything except him.  It was just liked she’d imagined sex would be before she’d actually experienced it.  With Midas, it wasn’t painful or icky.  It was perfect.  Like something out of a really dirty storybook.  His perfectly imperfect face hovered above hers, drinking in her blissful expression as she finally went limp.

“That was not lackluster.”  She got out breathlessly.  “My God.  You’re even better at this than you are at kissing.  You are like a sexual genius.”

A smug smile curved his lips.  “It’s a team sport, kitten.”

She swallowed, still trying to rearrange all her thoughts.  “Are you okay?”  He looked okay, but she needed to be sure.  This idea had worried him from the start and it had been way more intense than either of them could’ve expected.  “Was it too much for you?  We didn’t come up with a safe-word for you.”

“I’ll brainstorm some for next time.”

“I’m serious.  I really did strong-arm you into this.”  Belated guilt flickered inside of her, despite her happiness.  “I’m always strong-arming you into things.”

“I told you, no one strong-arms me into anything.”

She nearly snorted, because that just wasn’t true.  She’d been dragging Midas into messes since they met.  “Are you --like--regretting this deal or anything?”

Midas gently touched a knuckle to her face.  “You are the best deal I ever made, Guinevere.”  He assured her and dipped his head to lap at the moisture coating her thighs, coaxing every last aftershock from her body.  “God, I love the way you taste.

Gwen’s fingers tangled in his hair, relief and pleasure filling her.  Sex had been shockingly simple with Midas.  Not at all degrading or awkward.  He’d sent her whole body into meltdown in a matter of minutes.  The man was as brilliant at sex as he was at everything else.  His girlfriends probably lined up around the block, reveling in what he could do to their shapely, Bad bodies.  What if one of them turned out to be his True Love?

Gwen winced.  “I think Arthur must have been doing something wrong.”  She blurted out, not wanting to dwell on the image of Midas with anyone else and spoil the mood.  “Arthur couldn’t do anything even close to that.  No way.  I always knew it was his fault things were so lackluster.”

“The man was an asshole.”  Midas reiterated gravely, his perfect tongue beginning to do perfectly Bad things again.  “If he made sex unpleasant for you, then he screwed up.  Not you.  I promise, I can do a far better job.”

She gave a contented sigh.  “I know you can.  You can do anything.”  He’d certainly proven that enough times.  She should never have doubted that he’d make this perfect, too.

Midas was the Right Man.

He was already two-thirds of the way through the list.  If he could just want her the way she wanted him, everything would be exactly as she’d always dreamed.

Unfortunately, her jackass husband seemed determined to screw up all her plans.  They’d renegotiated the Contract, but Gwen still didn’t feel secure.  The second Midas found his “True Love,” he’d want out of their deal.  She knew it.  He’d never want Gwen as much as she wanted him, as long as that (hopefully) imaginary woman was standing in the way.

Gwen’s eyes narrowed.  There was only one thing for a practical, logical almost-Bad girl to do, really.

She needed to make her fake-husband fall in love with her for real.