My bedroom 23

Posted by admin, ? Views, Released on June 2, 2026

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He Said No Sex

Delia’s POV

I didn’t touch the food. The plate sat in front of me, untouched and growing cold, steam long gone, the carefully arranged meal reduced to decoration just like me. Julian’s chair across the table was already empty, pushed back and abandoned, a quiet reminder that he had left without looking back. I stared at the plate for a few seconds, my hands resting uselessly on either side of it, my appetite completely gone, my body too tight with shock to remember how to breathe properly.

Already married.

The words replayed in my head again and again, each time cutting deeper, peeling away another layer of illusion I had carefully built around myself. I had walked into that restaurant believing. No, hoping that this was the moment everything would change. That he would finally look at me the way he looked at

her. That I would matter.

Instead, I was given terms. Cold fucking terms!

I pushed back from the table, my chair scraping softly against the floor. A waiter glanced in my direction, hesitated, then looked away when he saw my face. I didn’t wait for dessert. I didn’t ask for a doggy bag or touch the damn fucking food. I didn’t even pretend.

I stood and walked out.

The Rolls–Royce was already waiting when I stepped outside, as if Julian had anticipated my quick exit, as if everything about this day had been calculated down to the minute. I slid into the backseat without a word, my hands clenched tightly in my lap.

The car pulled away from The Velvet Ember, and I stared out the window, watching the city blur past, lights streaking into meaningless lines. My reflection stared back at me in the tinted glass–perfect makeup, flawless hair, a woman dressed to be chosen.

And yet.

He will never touch me.

That was the part I couldn’t shake.

Not the marriage itself. Not the secrecy. Not even the humiliation of knowing I would never truly be his wife in the way the world assumed.

It was that sentence.

Because what was the point of a marriage without desire?

Without intimacy?

Without the power of knowing a man wanted you?

1/4

+25 Bonus

The car stopped in front of my parents‘ house just before four in the afternoon. I didn’t thank the driver. I didn’t look back at the car once I stepped out. I walked straight inside, my composure shattering with

every step.

My mother was in the living room, the television murmuring softly in the background. She looked up the moment she saw me, concern flashing across her face.

“Delia?” she asked, standing. “What happened?”

I crossed the room and collapsed onto the sofa, my body folding in on itself as the tears came fast and hard, hot and humiliating.

“Mother,” I sobbed, clutching at her sleeve. “He said he will never touch me.”

She stiffened. “What?”

“He said–he said there will be no bed, no intimacy, no sex,” I cried. “What is the use of a marriage if there

will be no sex?”

My chest heaved as I spoke, the words tumbling out in broken pieces, fear and disbelief tangled together. My mother sat beside me and pulled me into her arms, stroking my hair with practiced calm.

“Hush,” she said softly. “You’re overreacting.”

I pulled back, staring at her through tears. “How can you say that?”

“Most men say things like that before marriage,” she replied calmly. “Especially powerful men. They like to test you. To see if you’ll flinch.”

“I don’t think he was testing me,” I whispered.

“He was,” she insisted. “He wants you to chicken out. He knows intimacy is important in a marriage. He’s

trying to scare you.”

I shook my head. “He sounded serious.”

“That’s how they always sound,” she said dismissively. “But once you’re inside the marriage, things change. You’ll seduce him. Men like him don’t stay untouched for long.”

Her voice softened. “You’ll share a bed. You’ll give me grandchildren.”

I sniffed, wiping my cheeks. “And if he doesn’t?”

Her eyes sharpened just slightly. “Then you tell his grandmother.”

I blinked. “What?”

“If he refuses to touch you after marriage,” she said, “you tell Celesta Windsor that her grandson is neglecting his wife. That he’s failing his duties. She won’t tolerate that.”

The thought settled slowly. It was leverage.

2/4

12 N

+25 Bonus

My breathing steadied as the idea took root.

“So you’re saying… I still win,” I said quietly.

She smiled. “Of course you do.”

We sat there together after that, the television droning on with some mindless program neither of us was actually watching. My head rested against her shoulder, my body still tense but my thoughts slowly reorganizing.

Marry him. That was the solution. Even if he didn’t want me now, he would eventually. Men always did.

A few minutes passed in silence before a new thought crept in, unwelcome and sharp.

“Mother,” I said hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“Do you think Katia is doing… well?”

She turned her head to look at me. “Why would you ask that?”

I swallowed. “I might have been a little harsh to her today. I told her not to come to my wedding.”

My mother’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

“You did well,” she said.

I frowned. “I did?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Katia always steals the show. Always has. It was smart to draw that line.”

“She didn’t seem angry,” I admitted. “Just… distant.”

“That’s how she is,” my mother said lightly. “She pretends she doesn’t care, but she does. She always

does.”

I wasn’t so sure.

Something about the way Katia had looked at me in that restaurant. She was calm, unimpressed, and unmoved–which had unsettled me more than any outburst would have. She hadn’t begged. She hadn’t defended herself. She hadn’t even tried to compete.