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Chapter 63: The edge of the blade
Last Updated:
2025-07-03 06:35:34
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Winning Her Back Chapter 82: Shattered Sanctuary
Click. Click. Click.Then, a voice. Smooth as aged whiskey, cultured, carrying effortlessly up the grand staircase to where I stood rooted, trembling, behind my bedroom door. A voice that coiled around my spine like a venomous serpent."Ethan, darling. This is... an unexpected tableau."Claire.Her name detonated inside my skull, a silent scream echoing the one trapped in my throat. Cassandra was wrong. It was Claire. Ethan’s ghost, his unfinished symphony, the woman whose shadow had stretched over our marriage since the beginning. And she was here, again. Now. In the aftermath of that.Humiliation, fresh and scalding, washed over the raw ache Ethan’s touch, his words, his abandonment had left. It warred with a sudden, blinding fury that turned my vision red at the edges. He’d left me reeling from his cruelty, from the intimacy twisted into rejection, only to welcome her? Had he planned this? Was she the reason he’d pulled away, called me a mistake? The white-hot coal of anger Naomi h
Winning Her Back Chapter 81: Collateral Damage
His heat. Sandalwood and sex and salt, the scent of him clung to me, a mocking perfume. It was on my lips, where his desperate hunger had claimed sanctuary just minutes ago. It was on my neck, where his open-mouthed kisses had seared promises now broken. It was deep inside me, a throbbing, hollow ache between my thighs that pulsed with every frantic beat of my heart, a cruel echo of the pleasure he’d ignited and then abandoned. Unfulfilled. Needy.Tears, hot and humiliating, blurred the dim light filtering through the curtains. They tracked paths through the flush he’d painted on my cheeks, stinging like acid. My body trembled violently, a leaf in a hurricane of his making. Nausea churned in my stomach, a physical manifestation of the emotional whiplash. One moment, I was arching into his touch, chanting his name like a prayer on the precipice of oblivion. The next…"Get out." Flat. Absolute. Like discarding trash.My mind, treacherous and masochistic, replayed it all in brutal, techni
Winning Her Back Chapter 80: Stone cold
A shudder ripped through him. The last thread of his control frayed and snapped. With a groan that was pure surrender, he crashed his mouth down onto mine.This kiss wasn't like the brutal possession in the study. This was desperate. Starving. A claiming born of need so profound it bordered on agony.His lips were demanding, yet seeking.His tongue swept into my mouth, not conquering, but claiming sanctuary. I kissed him back with equal fervor, my arms winding around his neck, fingers tangling in his damp hair. It was a clash of tongues, a sharing of breath, a fusion of heat.His hands were everywhere. One slid down to grip my ass, hauling me tighter against the hard length of him.The other found my breast through the flimsy lace, his thumb rasping over my hardened nipple, sending jolts of electricity straight to my core. I moaned into his mouth, arching into his touch, my nails digging into the powerful muscles of his shoulders, urging him closer, demanding more.He tore his mouth f
Winning Her Back Chapter 79: The Edge of Surrender
His sharp intake of breath hung in the steam-thick air, a visceral punctuation to the shock rippling through him. I saw it, the raw, unguarded hunger that flared in his eyes as they raked over me, taking in the scandalous lace and silk l'd chosen. Not anger. Not the usual icy detachment. This was pure, undiluted need, primal and terrifying in its intensity. His knuckles whitened where he gripped the towel low on his hips, the only barrier left between us.Water droplets traced paths down the hard planes of his chest, over the defined ridges of his abdomen, disappearing into the terrycloth. The sight alone sent a bolt of pure lust straight to my core."What are you doing in here?" His voice was a guttural rasp, stripped of its usual control, vibrating with something dark and dangerous.My own pulse hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage of nerves and desire. I held his burning gaze, refusing to flinch. "What does it look like, Ethan?" My voice came out lower than I
Winning Her Back Chapter 78: The Sweetness Gambit
I woke before dawn, a nervous energy humming beneath my skin. The vast bed felt colder, emptier than usual, a stark reminder of the chasm I was determined to bridge. Silently, I slipped out, padding down to the cavernous kitchen on bare feet. The head chef was startled at my early appearance."Madame Blackwell! Is everything alright?""Everything's fine," I said, forcing a calm smile. "I'd like a full breakfast prepared this morning. Mr. Blackwell's favorites. Eggs Benedict, extra hollandaise, crispy bacon, fresh sourdough toast, berries, the works. Set for two in the dining room, please. At seven-thirty sharp."His eyebrows shot up, but he recovered quickly, a professional mask settling over his surprise. "Of course, Madame. It will be ready."Back upstairs, I showered and dressed with meticulous care, a soft, dove-grey cashmere sweater and cream trousers, aiming for an aura of gentle, approachable warmth. Not demanding. Not confrontational. Inviting.At precisely seven-thirty, I was
Winning Her Back Chapter 77: The Ashes of Want
I stayed crumpled on the floor, the edge of his desk digging into my spine. Not just heartbreak. Injustice. Weeks of icy corridors, empty beds, the aching chasm of his neglect, all culminating in that brutal, shattering kiss. A kiss that felt like drowning and flying all at once. And my own desperate plea, ripped from the marrow of my bones: “Just love me, please." Mocked. Discarded.The trembling started deep inside, a seismic shift. Not from weakness. From ignition. His warning to leave wasn't a threat I feared; it was a gauntlet thrown. My own reckless words in the heat of his possession, "Destroy me..."they weren't just passion. They were a vow. A declaration of war against the walls he’d built. He’d shown me the fracture, the raw, bleeding center of him. I wasn't running. Not now.I pushed myself up. My legs felt like water, unsteady, but a fierce energy crackled under my skin. The study air, thick with the scent of old leather and spilled Scotch was suffocating. I needed air. Ne
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