The Broken-hearted She And The Icy He

Chapter 422 A Night of Ruin

Chapter 422 A Night of Ruin

The night was heavy with languid desire..

Clothing slipped from her shoulders.

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Lily was lost in the heat and tenderness of his kisses, so absorbed that she didn’t even notice how bare she had become.

She had missed him too.

It had been more than a week since she was abducted and taken into the mountains, but the fear and helplessness from that night still felt as close as yesterday. She wanted to hold him fiercely, to kiss him deeply, to lose herself in him without restraint.

But adults, when clear–headed, had to be rational and measured. Only in a night like this–when he was too far gone to know where or when he was–could she let herself indulge in stolen pleasure.

James’s kisses slipped down from her reddened lips, urgent and uncontrolled.

She was powerless to resist, her head tipping back, seeking just a sliver of air. But the way she arched only drew her closer to him, like she was offering herself up rather than creating distance.

“Lily…”

His desire for her was too great. Just holding her and kissing her wasn’t enough to satisfy the hunger boiling inside him.

He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her sweet, warm scent as if he could drink it. Then, without warning, he lifted her into his arms and strode quickly toward the master bedroom.

onto the softness of the bed, she realized they were no longer in

deep inside, she understood what

taking advantage of his drunkenness to be close to him was taking what she wanted without his full awareness. But

neck and let the heat of him consume her

the time dawn came, she was too exhausted to remember

eyes, the room was already

found herself face–to–face with broad, defined chest muscles–several deep scratch

abdomen bore them

them

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422 A Night of

dare keep looking. Turning her head quickly, she caught sight of more on

last night–their heat, their frenzy–rushed back

him. Desperate to leave before he woke, she began slipping

“Lily…”

get away, a hand closed around her wrist. She turned and met his

locked, and at first his mind was a tangle. But when he took in the marks scattered over her skin, his eyes

with Jackson. The thought had torn him apart. In a rare loss of control, he’d gone to the wine cellar and brought up a cache of strong liquor, drinking until his

her in the study, it had felt like

she was Leila or Lily–or if Leila had always been Lily. What he wanted had always been

the haze

carrying her to the master bedroom, remembered the way passion drowned out every boundary, remembered only stopping when she had

it–how she had resisted when he first grabbed her and kissed her, how she had told him to let