All Chapters of Ravaging Mrs Claire: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

ClaireThe moment the door closed between us, Ian remained standing near it while I walked over and sat on the bed.“The kids aren’t buying it,” I said quietly. Isabella’s questions had been weighing on me, and I could feel it now—they were close to finding out about our marital troubles.“Maybe if you acted like a loving wife, they wouldn’t suspect anything,” he replied, his voice weary.“Oh really?” I shot back. “And who says you couldn’t act like a loving husband?”He let out a slow, humorless chuckle.“You’ve really changed, Claire. Tell me—what made you change?” he asked.I looked him over, the answer resting heavily on my tongue. “You did, Ian. Don’t pretend you don’t know,” I said.He nodded once.“The kids should be in their rooms by now. I’ll be leaving,” he said, clearly unwilling to talk any further—unwilling to face how he had broken our marriage beyond repair.He opened the door and closed it behind him as he stepped out.I drew in a deep breath. Tomorrow, I would have to

Claire At the end I came hard, collapsing onto his chest, my breathing ragged and ecstatic. This was exactly what I’d needed to quiet the storm in my head, and I still couldn’t believe how well it had worked. A deep, exhausted sigh slipped out of me.“Are you calm now?” Liam asked quietly.I straightened up slowly and nodded, too overwhelmed to find the right words. “Good,” he said simply.I lifted myself off him and slid back to the passenger seat. My release trailed down my thighs as I moved. I reached for the tissue box I kept in the car, wiped myself carefully, then tossed a few tissues toward him. He caught them and cleaned up without a word.He hadn’t come inside me—not at all. Normally Liam would have kept going, demanding more until he finished, but today he held back. I knew exactly why.“You want to head home, or come with me?” he asked. I didn’t even need a second to decide. The kids already thought I was tied up with something important, so I just nodded. “I’ll come wit

ClaireHe smiled—almost sheepish, but the glint in his eyes promised anything but innocence. Leaning in close, he whispered against my lips, “Tell me, Claire… what do you want?”His voice was velvet wrapped around steel, sweet and dangerous, while my hand kept stroking him slow and tender, feeling every thick pulse beneath my fingers.I swallowed hard, the words tangling in my throat. I opened my mouth, tried to shape them silently first, too shy to give them sound.“I can’t hear you, Claire,” he said, low and insistent.My voice came out small, barely above a breath. “I want you to spank me.”The grin that spread across his face was slow, wicked, triumphant. “If that’s what you wish, Claire… but you play by my rules.”I nodded quickly, eager, already surrendering.He released me from his hold and stepped back just enough to pin me with his gaze. His tone shifted—calm, deliberate, commanding.“You will not call me Liam. It’s Mr. King or Sir. You will not touch me unless I allow it. Yo

Claire He sucked on my nipple with a patience he hadn’t shown before—slow, deliberate pulls, tongue swirling lazily as if memorizing the taste, the texture, the way my body responded with every gentle tug. Low moans vibrated deep in my belly, soft and helpless.He released it with a wet pop, only to latch onto the other one, giving it the same reverent attention. My back arched off the mattress, fingers twisting in the sheets.Then his mouth was moving again—kissing a slow path down my sternum, across the soft curve of my belly. His tongue traced every dip and rise he could reach, sucking lightly here, pressing open-mouthed kisses there, until I was trembling beneath him.He paused, lips hovering just above my navel. “Did he touch you, Claire?” His voice was calm, almost conversational, but there was steel underneath.“No,” I answered without hesitation, the word slipping out in the haze of the moment. I wouldn’t have let Ian near me even if he’d begged on his knees. The thought of h

IsabellaMom still hadn’t come back from wherever she rushed off to earlier today. I couldn’t stop replaying how strange she’d looked—heavy makeup, restless energy, acting like being in this house was suddenly unbearable, like she needed air.Dad wasn’t helping either. He barely spoke to her, barely even looked her way. This was worse than what Mom had hinted to me before. Something was wrong—something deeper—and it was coming to the surface whether anyone wanted to admit it or not.Now it was late. Too late. She still wasn’t home, and every call we made went straight to voicemail.“I don’t think she’s coming back tonight,” Riette said with a yawn, like the idea didn’t even worry him.“She probably had to stay late at work,” he added casually.I didn’t believe that for a second. Neither did Max, who kept pacing the living room like a caged animal.He suddenly stopped and turned to Riette. “Has Mom ever done this before? I don’t remember her missing a night because of work,” he said, h