MasukFive years down the drain! Clair Green stares at the divorce papers in her hand. Never did she think she would be in this position. Then she thinks back over the last few months of her life with Mike—all the secret phone calls, the whispers in the dark and eventually the pictures that she was not supposed to see. At last, she could put a name to it all. Sienna Whitfield. In pain and ready to forget all of her trouble, she walks tall into the Banquet Hall. It is where the charity event will take place. Then she sees him - a man with so much authority, handsome and older—a man no one can miss. A man who walks like he owns the world, full of confidence. He walks up to her and talks to her, but when he introduces himself, she knows her desire for this man can never be fulfilled. The man who ignited the Flames of Desire in her is no one else but Damon Withfield. He is the uncle of her enemy. He is related to the woman who stole her husband. He is Sienna Whitfield's uncle!
Lihat lebih banyakClaire's POV
Damon lifts the hem of my shirt, pausing just a moment, then he finally lifts it over my head. I hear his intake of breath as the cool air hits my breasts, and my shirt falls to the floor. Damon’s eyes burn my exposed breasts. I can barely breathe. My nipples harden to points. Damon wets his thumb, rubbing circles on my nipples, toying with the sharp, little points. Damon lowers to his knees and starts removing my pants. I step out of them. Damon reaches up again, taking silk panties and pulling them down my legs, my body bare to him. He looks up at me. He doesn’t speak at first, just lets his gaze meet mine. In that moment, I feel unsteady, caught in the gravity of him. My fingers twitch at my sides, restless, trying to anchor me, but my body leans forward slightly without conscious thought. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to. His eyes don’t blink, and a groan escapes him. I look down, seeing his cock straining against his suit pants. He looks at my wet pussy again, and then Damon's hot tongue is licking the length of my slit. I shudder. Fuck. I grab his head, keeping him there. Damon’s tongue works its way inside, and I thread my fingers through his hair as he licks and sucks my clit.
“Damon…” My voice is low, rough, vibrating through the air between us. He moves away from me for a moment.
“Shh… Don’t speak. Enjoy …” He whispers. I shiver at the words, at the promise behind them. Damon moves back in, grabbing my ass in both hands and yanking me into him. His mouth covers my pussy. Then Damon rises, lifts me by the backs of my thighs, and I wrap my arms and legs around him, meeting his eyes. He turns, carrying me to bed. My pussy clenches, feeling the bed behind me. He puts me down, and the backs of my knees hit the bed, and I fall to my ass, hitting the sheets. I land on my back, my head hitting the pillow as Damon comes to lie beside me on his side. His hand dips between my legs. Damon sinks two fingers inside me, and I gasp as they slip in easily, wet as I am.
Damon’s lips find mine, and he kisses as he pumps his fingers slowly into me.
“Wider, baby,” He begs. I open my legs wider as his tongue moves in my mouth and then moves to my breasts, sucking and biting my nipple. He fills me with his fingers, but I want him deeper. I’m craving more, his body, his muscles, I want it all fucking me.
“Don’t stop,” I groan. God, he feels good. But more. I need more. I take his face, bringing his mouth to mine, and he keeps fingering me as his mouth moves over mine, teasing me down to my belly. Damon slips his fingers out of me, standing up and dropping his pants, his belt hitting the floor. He pauses a moment, staring down at me, and my pussy wants his fingers back. Or more. I drop my eyes, seeing his cock sticking straight out like a steel rod, and I stand up. I open my mouth, wanting to taste him. But he pushes me back down, coming down on top of me, and pulling the sheet over us.
“I want you,” He growls over my mouth. His dick nudges my pussy, and I grind into it, so fucking ready to have him inside me. I kiss his jaw, wrapping my arms around him. He moves his cock at my entrance, rises to look down at me, and grabs my hip, thrusting himself inside. I stretch, tight around his cock, and squeeze my eyes shut as he hits my spot deep. I whimper.
“Fuck,” he groans, his face twisted in pleasure. He breathes hard and fast as he pulls out and thrusts back in. I hold his hips, dragging my nails over his skin as I spread my thighs wider.
“You feel so good,” I say quietly. “Don’t stop, Damon.” He smiles and comes down, squeezing a breast as he starts to pump his hips, faster and harder. I seek his lips and take them with mine, kissing him slow and deep as we fuck. Sliding out, he thrusts quickly back inside me, and I squeeze his hips, guiding him and rolling my hips into him to meet each move. I moan as we kiss, the world around me spinning. His hand moves over my body, touching me everywhere. His mouth finds my nipples again, and he starts sucking and biting them lightly. I moan, aching in my back, so he can move deeper into me. He comes back up, thrusting harder, and my pussy clenches around him as my orgasm crests. I moan, both of us moving in sync as our pace quickens and I start to come. My pussy contracts, I don’t blink, and my body tenses, every muscle tightening as I come. I cry out, looking at Damon as I shudder and shake, struggling for breath. The orgasm rocks through me, his eyes do not leave mine as my pussy warms as I grow wetter. I want to know what he’s thinking. Finally, we collapse together, bodies entwined, breathless, hearts racing in tandem. The sheets are tangled around us, cool in contrast to the heat of our skin.
“You’re trouble, and you taste like sin,” He says, his hand sliding along my hip, pulling me firmly against him.
My enemy’s uncle. The man I must never touch.
“You know we can’t do this again,” He says finally, his voice hoarse, unconvincing.
I turn my head toward him, my lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile.
“Then why are you still touching me?” I ask.
His jaw clenches, but his hand doesn't move. If anything, it slid lower, teasing, reminding me just how easily this can happen again.
“You’re trouble,” He mutters.
“You already told me that,” I whisper. It is more like a slur as I am a little drunk. We had too much to drink at the hotel earlier. Many people saw us leaving together, and tomorrow I know the whole town of Willowcreek will know about it.
Damon’s POVThe restaurant is alive with its usual afternoon rhythm, the quiet clink of cutlery, the low whispers of conversations, the faint scent of roasted garlic and seared meat drifting from the kitchen, and yet, the moment I walk in with Claire, every sound feels muted, every gaze drawn to her. She doesn’t realize how much she commands a room, how people look up when she passes, how her presence silences idle chatter. It isn’t just her beauty. It’s something deeper, sharper. She carries herself with dignity that cannot be bought, cannot be mimicked, and I am proud to have her by my side.We are shown to our usual table, tucked neatly into the far corner where I can keep my back to the wall and my eyes on the entire room. Old habits die hard. I am a man who likes control, who thrives on knowing every angle, every possible exit, every threat before it has the chance to surface. And yet, for the first time in years, sitting here with Claire softens that instinct, makes me want to l
Jake’s POVI walk the familiar streets of Willowcreek, the weight of the town’s quiet eyes on me pressing down in ways I had long ago forgotten, and every step feels heavier than the last because the ghosts of the past are here, lingering in every cracked sidewalk, every faded storefront, every whisper of gossip floating from someone’s window or doorway. I know what people are already saying. I’ve been warned by friends still living here, friends who remember everything, who remember how Sienna Whitfield burned everything in her path just to claim the scraps she thought were hers, and I can feel the sting of it, but it’s nothing compared to the image I have burned into my mind: Claire, standing tall and unshakable next to Mike on their wedding day.I grit my teeth, the memory like fire in my chest, because I know that I can’t ignore her, that I didn’t come back for this town, for old friends or memories. I came back for her. Claire. She may be young, she may be clever, she may have wo
Sienna’s POVThe afternoon sun lies heavy over Willowcreek, painting the streets in a sleepy gold, the kind of light that makes every crack in the sidewalk, every chipped paint corner of the buildings stand out sharper, and yet all I can hear, all I can feel, is the low whispers of gossip still rolling through town about my uncle Damon and Mona. I’m still seething over it, still furious that Mona let Claire walk away the victor again, but as I step out of the café, clutching my coffee cup too tightly, I see something that stops me cold, something I almost don’t believe at first. Jake Tatum.He’s standing across the street, tall and broad-shouldered as ever, though there’s something rougher about him now, edges sharpened by time, by whatever life he’s lived since he left this town. He hasn’t seen me yet, and for a moment, I just drink in the sight of him, the boy who was my first love, the boy who made my heart ache and my stomach twist in ways no one else ever did, the boy who threw i
Claire’s POVThe afternoon sun spills through the wide windows of my office, painting the walls with shifting shades of gold, but the warmth does little to ease the chill that lingers after the morning’s chaos. I sit at my desk, papers neatly stacked before me, numbers and figures waiting for my attention, yet my eyes keep sliding to the clock, watching the seconds crawl, every tick a reminder that the world outside these walls has already taken hold of what happened, twisted it into stories, handed it over to Willowcreek’s eager tongues.I know them, the way they thrive on scandal, how every whisper grows sharper with each retelling. By now, the shopkeepers have woven Mona’s fury into something bigger than it was, and Claire, the quiet woman who dared to stay by Damon Whitfield’s side, is at the centre of it all. Me. I don’t need to hear the gossip to know what they’re saying. That I’m too young for him. That I’m reckless for staying. That I’ll never truly belong in his world. That D


















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