Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 396

Chapter 396

Madeline’s POV

Marcus’s hands were careful as he worked through the dress’s complicated layers. First the zipper, then the tiny fabric-covered buttons down the back-each movement slow and patient. I felt his fingers brush my skin as he eased the fabric away, sending little shivers up my spine.

“This dress has more layers than an onion,” he murmured against my neck, his warm breath making my skin tingle.

I laughed softly, trying to relax as the dress was carefully removed. There was something deeply intimate about the process, more intimate than simply undressing. It felt like he was literally peeling away the role of the bride, revealing just Madeline beneath all that ceremony and performance.

When the dress finally slipped down and pooled on the floor like a cloud of silk and tulle, I stood there in nothing but the lingerie chosen for me-a delicate, elegant set of ivory French lace.

Marcus looked at me for a moment that felt endless, his gaze traveling over me with an intensity that made my breath hitch.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, his hands settling at my waist.

Before I could reply, he turned me, pulled me closer, and kissed me. This wasn’t the careful kiss from the ceremony. It was deep and urgent, charged with all the tension that had been building between us all day. His hands traced the curves of my body through the lace, and I got lost in the familiar sensation of his touch.

For a few minutes, I let myself just feel. The heat of his body against mine. The taste of his lips. The way he murmured my name between kisses. It was easy to give in. Easy to forget the complications, the doubts, the weight of everything surrounding us.

But then, when I felt his hands move toward the clasp of my bra, something inside me locked up.

I pulled back abruptly, breathless, one hand instinctively going to my chest as if to shield myself.

“I…” I started, trying to organize the tangle of thoughts. “I don’t know if I want to do this.”

Marcus stopped immediately. His hands fell away, but he stayed close enough that I could still feel the warmth of him.

“You don’t know?” he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips despite his uneven breathing.

“I do,” I corrected quickly, my cheeks flushing. “I want to. Physically, I really do. But… I don’t know if I’m comfortable yet.”

The honesty surprised even me. Admitting the desire was easier than facing the messier emotional part.

I laughed, the sound half nerves, half self-consciousness.

“I know it’s ridiculous. We were all over each other in the Maldives, but… we were Apollo and Aphrodite back then. Now we’re Marcus and Madeline.”

The difference felt enormous in my head. In the Maldives, we’d been two people escaping reality, pretending to

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be someone else. Here, we were ourselves with real names, real expectations, and real consequences. Marcus leaned in and kissed my temple gently, the tenderness of the gesture tightening something in my chest. “That’s okay,” he said softly. “Everything at your pace.”

The understanding in his voice almost made me cry. I tried to lighten the moment, retreating to our safe territory-banter.

“I’m guessing you’re going to need a cold shower now,” I said, trying to sound casual even though I was still trembling slightly.

Marcus laughed, that low, genuine sound.

“You’re getting very good at your guesses,” he admitted.

We showered separately, in silence. Marcus went first and came out wearing only pajama pants, his dark hair still dripping now and then. I had to force myself to walk away and take my own shower before I changed my mind about the whole wedding night.

When I returned to the bedroom, I found him arranging pillows on the sofa by the windows.

“We’re adults,” I said, stopping in the doorway. “We can share the bed.”

He looked at me, one eyebrow lifting in question.

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” I said, sounding more confident than I actually felt.

Marcus hesitated for a few more seconds before giving up on the couch and heading for the bed. We slid under the covers, keeping a respectful distance, each of us claiming our side of the king-size mattress as if an invisible line separated us.

We lay there in the dark, and I was sure he was just as awake as I was. I could sense the tension in his body, the way his breathing hadn’t settled into the steady rhythm of sleep. The room was quiet except for the distant sound of crickets outside and the occasional creak of the old mansion’s wood.

I stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about the man lying beside me. Questions spun endlessly through my mind, finding no answers, trapping me in an anxious loop as I tried to imagine what the future might hold.

Then I felt movement next to me. Marcus’s fingers carefully laced with mine, the touch so gentle I almost thought I’d imagined it.

I closed my fingers around his hand, giving a small squeeze to let him know it was welcome. His thumb brushed softly over my skin, a comforting gesture that asked for nothing in return.

I felt

my muscles finally relax. His presence beside me, the simplicity of that shared touch, brought a sense of safety I hadn’t expected.

My anxious thoughts slowly faded, replaced not by certainty, but by a quiet acceptance that some things could remain unresolved for now.

Sleep found me before I even realized it, carrying me gently away while I was still holding the hand of the man

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