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Chapter 77: The Ashes of Want
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2025-07-11 07:02:41
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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
Winning Her Back Chapter 76: Taste of Shattering
His query hung there, shrapnel-like, vibrating with the raw anguish of his confession. "Is this what you wanted, Lila? To push? To see how deep the crack goes? To see me shatter?"His grip around my wrist was iron, his pressure on the cusp of pain wedging me to the graniteools plane of his chest. His other hand burned through the thinnish cashmere at my hip, his fingers digging in deep. Every hard plane of his body pressing against mine, the warmth that spilled from his body a brand, the frenzied thudding of his heart against mine a wild counterbeat to the panic-staccato that was mine. His warm, ragged breath caressed my face, reeking with Scotch and the particular Ethan musk that caused perilous shivers to course down my spine despite fear.His eyes. God, his eyes. They weren't blazed; they were afire, consuming me. Raw, terrifying need fought with anger and anguish so deep that it left me breathless. Close as this was, I could perceive the tiny tremble of his jaw, the widening of hi
Winning Her Back Chapter 75: The Edge of the Blade
The aspirin had dulled the jackhammer in my skull to a manageable throb. The water had washed away the worst of the desert in my mouth, though a sour residue lingered, a physical echo of last night’s humiliation. But it was the memory, crystal clear now, that electrified the air, replacing the hangover fog with a razor-sharp awareness. "I don't hate you, Lila. Sometimes, I hate myself for how much I want you." His words, raw and scraped bare in the harsh bathroom light, were a weapon I hadn’t known I possessed. And I intended to wield it.I showered, the hot water sluicing away the grime of the club and the lingering shame. I didn’t choose armor this time. Nor did I choose blatant seduction. I chose presence. Dark, tailored trousers that hugged my legs, a soft cashmere sweater in deep burgundy that felt like a second skin, my hair pulled back in a sleek, low ponytail. Minimal makeup, just enough to erase the shadows under my eyes and define my lips. I looked put-together, calm, aware.
Winning Her Back Chapter 74: “I don’t hate you….”
The silence that followed was total. Oppressive. I closed my eyes hard, praying I would remember, praying the tile floor would swallow me whole. What a drunken, silly demand.Then, a sound. A low, almost imperceptible sigh. Not an exasperated one this time. Something deeper. Tiredness.His voice, as he spoke, was horrorously close. He hadn't moved, but his presence was instant, overwhelming. It wasn't the frostbite fury of the entry. It was lower, coarser, scraped raw. "I don't hate you, Lila."The words hung there in the air, simple, unadorned, utterly disarming. I took a breath. I risked the very slightest incline of my head, just enough to catch sight of him in the reflection off the glass.He wasn't glaring at me. His gaze was on some point on the wall, his jaw still clenched but the fury choked back, replaced by a deep weariness and something else, something uncomfortable and sinister. His knuckles were white where he leaned against the doorframe.At other times, he continued, hi
Winning Her Back Chapter 73: The Aftermath and the Confession
Sunlight. Cold, brutal sunlight, cutting through the gap in the thick curtains right onto my face. I groaned, the sound ripping raw in my throat, and shoved my head under the pillow. All my nerve endings shrieked. My head ached as if it had been a death metal band drum, pounding away with a nauseating beat that competed with the mad heartbeat behind my eyes. My lips were dry, covered in something disgusting. The stale beer and perfume odor that clung to the sheets made my stomach do a scary flip.What had occurred?The question echoed in the hollow, aching space behind my eyes. Flashes of color, pounding bass, Naomi’s laughing face, the dizzying swirl of lights… it was all fragmented, chaotic, like shards of a broken mirror reflecting distorted scenes. The journey home was a black hole. Ethan.Panic, glacial and razor-edged, cut through the hangover haze. The final clear vision struck me: the mansion doorway wrenching open, Ethan standing in the light, his face a grotesque mask of an
Winning Her Back Chapter 72: Temporary amnesia
The drive back to the mansion was filled with a nervous energy. Naomi’s plan buzzed in my head, a counterpoint to the lingering dread. Getting ready this time felt different. I shed the armor. Out came the little black dress, I paired it with sheer tights and strappy heels that made me wobble slightly. My makeup went darker, smokier. I piled my hair up, leaving tendrils loose around my face. I looked different. Daring. Someone who might go clubbing. Someone who wasn’t Lila Blackwell, the discarded wife.As I applied a final coat of deep red lipstick, I paused, staring at my reflection. A treacherous, foolish sliver of hope flickered. *Maybe he’ll come home early. Maybe he’ll see me like this, about to leave, and.. My mind conjured the fantasy: Ethan walking in, his eyes darkening with that possessive heat I craved. Him crossing the room, pulling me close, his voice husky. ‘Where do you think you’re going, looking like that? Not without me.’ Maybe he’d kiss me, persuade me to stay, pro
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