LOGINThis book is for viewers above the age of 18. It may contain explicit and violent scenes not suitable for all viewers. If you're not into dark romance you might find this disturbing. Her body hit the wall, her breath trembling as her eyes darted across my face. I knew that look — the one that screams lust. It made my mouth water instantly. “Stay back,” she gasped, her voice unsteady. But I did the opposite. As our bodies pressed together, I felt her tremble beneath me. “I just want you and that… that—” she faltered, the words dying as my hands found her hips. “That what, Mrs. Claire?” I murmured. She swallowed hard. Mrs. Claire — the woman who lets desire consume her. The woman I can’t get out of my head. --- Mrs. Claire: How did I find myself in this mess? I only wanted them to leave my family alone. But now… here I am, caught in a scandal of my own. What happens when your husband's mistress boyfriend becomes your Dom.
View MoreClaire Slowly, I parted my lips, the tip of his thick cock brushing my tongue with a rough, tantalizing heat. The scent of him—deep, raw, and impossibly masculine cut through me like a drug, knocking the air right out of my lungs. “If this is how you give your husband blowjobs, I won't blame him for cheating on you,” he sneered, a cruel smirk curling his lips. I felt a stab of insult, but before I could pull back, his hand shot out, yanking my hair with brutal force, forcing him deeper into my mouth. “Mgh!” I choked, gagging as his rigid length pushed past my lips. He withdrew sharply, and I gasped, my throat burning as I coughed, clutching it. His eyes darkened with disdain. “You don't fucking use your teeth, woman,” he spat. I glared up at him, fury flaring despite my trembling state. “Tell me, Mrs. Claire,” he taunted, voice low and dangerous, “was your husband the first to touch you?” My eyes widened in shock. I bit my bottom lip and nodded, barely able to breathe. Ian was t
ClaireA sharp, electric tightening seized my stomach, an intense heat spreading low between my legs as his lips trailed from my flushed cheek, down the vulnerable curve of my neck. My breath became fragile, caught in short, uneven gasps. Every part of me screamed to resist, to shove him away, strike him, or even kick him, but instead, I stood frozen, caught in a dangerous spell, feeling helpless and exposed.His touch was nothing like Ian’s; it was something darker, more commanding, wrapped in a twisted kind of skill. His hands moved with a possessive hunger, grabbing my hips firmly, pulling me closer as his hardened cock pressed insistently against my stomach, almost cruelly. A soft moan, the sound of wanting I couldn't hold back, escaped me, eyes slipping closed as his other hand stroked over my breast, cupping it. My throat tightened, voice barely more than a breath, “No, please, not there.” Before I could muster another word, he crushed his lips to mine in a relentless, sloppy
Claire “It seems coming here was useless,” I said softly, my voice breaking as I lowered my head, my face twisting with pain. My heart felt like it was being squeezed. Coming here… was for nothing. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. How dare you, Ian. After everything we shared, after all the years, how dare you betray me like this. My hand clenched tightly around my bag, the only thing keeping me from falling apart in front of this man. “Thank you for your time,” I muttered, turning to leave. But before I could take a single step, his hand gripped my arm. I gasped, startled, turning sharply to face him. His gaze was fixed on the me—cold, heavy, and unrelenting. “If you’re that mad that your husband is screwing someone younger,” he said slowly, his tone almost taunting, “then why don’t you pay him back?” I frowned, my chest tightening. What is he talking about? What kind of sick joke is this? “Let go of my hand,” I said through clenched teeth, my voice trembling with anger.
ClaireI stood just outside the enormous building, staring up at it. I glanced down at the address in my hand again and swallowed hard.I moved to the ignition button and pressed it gently, after a little wait, a low voice came through, deep and masculine.“Yes, who is that?”I swallowed again, my throat suddenly dry. What am I doing? Should I really proceed with this?“I—I’m Claire. Claire Anthony. Is this the residence of Mr. Liam King?” I asked, my voice a little shaky.Silence. No reply came, and for a moment I thought I’d made a huge mistake coming here. But suddenly, the gate opened—quietly, smoothly, though no voice followed from the intercom.I hesitated. Two huge cameras stared down from above the gate. Should I go in? I mean, the gate did open. Clutching my bag tightly, I stepped forward, and as soon as I walked in, the gate closed behind me with a soft, heavy thud.I turned back sharply—it was locked. Now a ripple of fear began to rise in me. The confidence I had before com
Claire Anthony Ahhh, I went through the pictures, my eyes blurry with unshed tears, staring at the photos of my husband, cuddling up with a much younger woman. He looked so happy with her in his arms that I felt the need to puke, how could he? Not after everything we've been through. How could he do this to me? We've suffered together, built an empire, have kids and yet this is what he does, behind my back, he's cheating on me. No wonder he hardly touched me these days, with the excuse of being busy and tired, and I was a fool to believe him, to love him still. I set the pictures on the table, my hands shaky, I looked over at the pile of paper on my desk, a name written on it Pattie Paul, the girl he is cheating on me with. I have had a private investigator do a background check on her. She is a model, in a big agency, but was once a thriving model who by mere luck was hired by a bigger agency obviously the work of my husband. She started working there a year ago, the sa






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