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Chapter 79: The Edge of Surrender
Last Updated:
2025-07-13 07:39:41
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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
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.
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