The Wife He Sold

Echo's POV

At 2 AM, I felt a familiar warmth approaching me in my drowsiness.

"Jason?" I whispered softly, my eyelids too heavy to open.

In the darkness, someone gently caressed my cheek, the touch both tender and burning. My heartbeat began to race, a long-lost flutter coursing through my veins.

"Finally..." I thought to myself, "finally willing to touch me?"

In our two years of marriage, except for that one time when I conceived Emma, Jason always maintained a polite distance from me. Whenever I tried to get close, he always had various excuses to push me away.

But tonight was different. Tonight, he seemed like a completely different person.

His kiss came without warning, carrying an unfamiliar wildness and desire. Not the usual dragonfly-light politeness, but deep, dominating, possessive.

"Wait..." I tried to open my eyes, wanting to see his face clearly.

"Shh... don't talk." A low voice whispered in my ear.

This feeling... this feeling was happening again. Like those previous blurry memories, familiar yet somehow wrong.

Only weak moonlight illuminated the room, and I could only make out a vague silhouette. Was it Jason? It had to be—who else could it be?

But his movements were nothing like my usual gentle, polite husband. His hands were rough and powerful, every touch carrying intense aggression, as if he wanted to possess me completely.

"You're... very different tonight..." I panted.

He didn't answer, only kissed me more fiercely, his fingers tangling in my hair with such force that I whimpered softly.

This roughness mixed with tenderness made me both fearful and excited. When had Jason become so... understanding of what I needed?

I wanted to protest, to ask for clarity, but my body's instincts were betraying my reason. Every cell craved this long-lost intimacy, yearned for the feeling of being truly needed.

"Maybe it's because I've missed you so much," he breathed in my ear.

This voice... it sounded like Jason, yet somehow not. Deeper, more sensual, like a different person entirely.

But I was beyond thinking. His every movement hit my sensitive spots with precision, as if he knew my body inside and out. I gradually lost myself in his caresses, reason completely consumed by pleasure.

Time became blurred. I only remembered trembling continuously in his arms, making sounds I'd never made before. The sensation was too intense—so intense I thought I might die from this ultimate pleasure.

Finally, I fell into complete unconsciousness after an unprecedented climax.

When I woke again, it was 4 AM.

The bed beside me was empty, only the pillow retaining faint warmth.

I felt sore all over, certain areas still aching dully, proving that everything had been real. But...

"Jason?" I called softly. No response.

An inexplicable unease made it impossible to stay lying down. I put on my robe and tiptoed out of the bedroom.

The hallway was silent, no light in the bathroom. I continued toward the living room.

Soft snoring came from the living room.

As I approached, my entire world turned upside down.

Jason was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep under a blanket, his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. He was sleeping deeply, looking like he'd been there for hours.

Blood froze in my veins.

If Jason was on the couch, then who had just been with me...

I rushed back to the bedroom, trembling as I turned on the light. The sheets were messy, clear indentations on the pillow, my nightgown scattered on the floor, and my underwear had been changed.

Someone had... while I was completely unaware...

This realization made my stomach lurch.

But what was more terrifying was why this felt so familiar. Had this happened before?

Those blurry memory fragments began to piece together: often waking up feeling strange in my body, underwear that had been changed, Jason always saying I was remembering wrong...

I collapsed onto the edge of the bed as terror washed over me like a tide.