BOOK 3: Chapter 45: Caught in the SilenceShe is still packing, quietly folding and stuffing clothes into a small black duffel bag, when Adrian steps back into the room. The door clicks shut behind him, followed by a low chuckle and that familiar lopsided grin spreading across his face.“Well,” he says, eyes gleaming, voice low with amusement, “the old man’s still out cold. Snoring like a chainsaw. Wouldn’t even hear a bomb go off.”Amanda looks up at him, brushing a few damp strands of hair from her flushed face. She exhales sharply through her nose, then grins as she tosses a pair of folded jeans into her own bag. “Good,” she murmurs, voice light but shaky. “Because I’m not in the mood for surprises.”Adrian walks over to her slowly, not bothering to put on a shirt. He towers over her for a moment before reaching out, pulling her into him without hesitation. He hugs her tightly, possessively, his large hands sliding down and squeezing her ass with enough force to draw a small gasp f
BOOK 3: Chapter 44: The Line They Can’t UncrossShe doesn’t wait for approval—not anymore. Not after what just happened between them. After he’s already taken her, utterly and completely. After he’s fucked her into oblivion and made her feel pleasures her mind still struggles to hold. Her thoughts are unmoored, spinning in senseless, breathless loops that refuse to land. Amanda steps into the shower like she’s floating, weightless and wet with something more than water. Adrian follows her, silent, heated, his presence behind her like a second layer of steam.Under the stream, he takes his time—too much time. He brushes his hands across her skin with a careful touch that makes it worse. There’s no urgency in him now, only this slow, deliberate hunger. His fingers find the hollows behind her knees, the curve of her thighs, the slope of her hips. He soaps her up and rinses her clean, but it’s not about cleanliness. It’s about control. And intimacy. And something deeper that neither of th
BOOK 3: Chapter 43: The Edge of SurrenderGod, she can’t stop laughing—breathless, reckless laughter tumbling from her lips as her back presses hard against the wall, her body caught between resistance and surrender. Her chest rises and falls, lips parted, eyes fluttering like they can’t decide whether to stay open or shut. Adrian's touch is relentless, and her mind, her reasoning, everything that once rooted her firmly in right and wrong, dissolves into something shapeless."Adrian," she whispers, her voice barely a breath, "Oh my God, Adrian..."His hand continues its slow, confident path beneath the hem of her panties, fingers tracing places she knows he shouldn’t, yet she can’t bring herself to stop him. Her muscles quiver with each teasing brush, her knees weakening beneath her as he keeps her pinned gently but firmly against the wall, his breath hot against her neck.“Come on,” he murmurs, lips grazing the curve of her ear. “You know how good this feels. Imagine it, Amanda. You
BOOK 3: Chapter 42: Bound by FireShe doesn’t resist this time.There’s no inner struggle, no frantic justifications, no excuses swimming in her mind to stop her from doing what’s expected of her as a wife. She lets herself fall into it—into the intimacy that is supposed to connect her with her husband. The touch, the rhythm, the closeness. She gives herself over to it completely, but it’s different now. Everything feels warped. Her body responds, but not in the way it once did. It’s mechanical, almost artificial. There’s no electricity running through her veins. Nothing that sparks beneath her skin. Nothing like what she feels when Adrian touches her.God. It’s already too late.The deed is done, and now the emptiness creeps in.Adrian has ruined her. No—he’s transformed her. Reshaped her, carved his name into her bones, and wired her body to respond only to him. The sex with her husband doesn’t excite her anymore. It doesn’t ignite her. It doesn’t even move her in the slightest, and
BOOK 3: Chapter 41: Painted LiesThe moment he finishes speaking, she swallows hard. Her throat is dry. Her chest rises and falls in rapid, shallow breaths. She closes her eyes and inhales slowly, deeply, exhaling just as carefully, trying to quiet the jackhammer in her chest. Her heart is pounding like it's trying to escape her body.Think, Amanda. Think.She tries to steady herself. To shut down the panic. To string together something clever. Something believable. Something that will get her out of this with at least a scrap of dignity and a marriage still intact. Her brain scrambles for a smart excuse, something convincing enough to pacify Greg’s rage.But there’s no way—absolutely no possible way—she can tell him the truth.That the mark on her neck was pressed there by his son. That Adrian had sucked her so hard, so desperately, it left bruises that bloomed into deep, angry welts.God, the mere thought makes her want to vomit.It’s going to be catastrophic. Worse than that humili
BOOK 3: Chapter 40: Beneath the SkinShe chuckles nervously, shaking her head as she tries to rise from the bed.Greg doesn't give her the chance.He steps forward, blocking her path completely, his tall frame casting a heavy shadow over her. His jaw is clenched so tightly the tendons in his neck look like they're going to snap. His eyes—normally cool and composed—are wild with fury."What the hell is going on with you, Amanda?" His voice is low but laced with a dangerous kind of rage.She freezes. The heat drains from her skin as her heartbeat surges to her throat.Greg holds out a hand, as if trying to keep her caged in place. “Stay where you are,” he says, his tone sharp, strained. “And don’t even think about running away right now, because I swear to God, you’re just going to piss me off even more—and things are already bad enough.”Her legs go numb. She swallows thickly.Oh my God, she thinks, her lips trembling as she bites down on them hard. Her mouth opens—nothing comes out.“