Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 199

Every single night, she crept into his thoughts. The second Quentin closed his eyes, his mind was utterly consumed by her.

He loved her.

But the deeper his love grew, the more vicious his hatred became. And the more he hated her, the harder he fell.

At this point, Quentin couldn't even tell which emotion was stronger. Maybe love and hate were just two sides of the same twisted coin.

She was a beautiful nightmare he couldn't wake up from. In his darkest moments, he always remembered the little girl who promised she would marry him when she grew up.

And now, she was calling another man her husband.

Quentin took a ragged, shuddering breath, his dark eyes locked on the woman clinging to him.

"Let go," he ordered, prying her fingers off his waist.

But instead of backing down, Madeline surged upward and crashed her lips forcefully against his.

Quentin's entire body locked up.

Her breath was scalding.

The searing heat of her mouth seemed to instantly ignite his own blood, sending his body temperature skyrocketing in seconds.

Quentin's Adam's apple bobbed. He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back against the mattress. "Madeline, open your eyes! I am not Lucius!"

Her brain was completely scrambled by the hallucinogen. Hearing that name, her subconscious just blindly parroted it back.

"Lucius... Lucius..."

It felt like a pair of spiked iron gauntlets had just crushed Quentin's heart.

An agonizing, blinding pain ripped through his sanity, tearing it to shreds.

Right behind the pain came an apocalyptic, unhinged fury.

Lucius had treated her like absolute garbage, and yet, in her most desperate, vulnerable state, she was still begging for him?

He knew she was heavily drugged, but the fact that her body was actively craving Lucius's touch pushed him right over the edge.

Quentin reached out, his fingers locking mercilessly around her jaw.

"Do you really love him that much?"

The sharp spike of pain forced Madeline's eyes to focus slightly. Her blurred vision cleared just enough to see his striking, flawless face hovering above her.

Thick, dark lashes and those cold, beautiful eyes.

It felt like she was trapped in a dream. She just wanted to be held. She just wanted to feel loved.

The agony of her rejection twisted his desire into a vicious, desperate need to claim her.

Without another word, Quentin pinned her down and kissed her with bruising force.

There was absolutely no tenderness. He plundered her mouth until she couldn't breathe, her face flushing crimson, before he finally pulled back.

A second later, his lips descended on her neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin.

A wave of electric, agonizing pleasure shot through Madeline's spine.

The sound of his ragged, heavy breathing filled the dead silence of the bedroom, magnifying the erotic tension.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sudden sound hitting the heavy oak door shattered the haze.

Quentin snapped back to reality.

He collapsed against her neck, chest heaving as he fought to drag oxygen into his lungs. Once his breathing leveled out, he growled, "What is it?"

The housekeeper's nervous voice filtered through the wood. "Mr. Prescott, Dr. Vance is here."

Quentin sat up, his sanity violently snapping back into place. He quickly adjusted his clothes. He reached for Madeline's blouse, but the fabric was entirely destroyed, shredded into pieces during their struggle. Thankfully, there were spare pajamas in the closet. He quickly dressed her in a soft silk shirt before walking over to unlock the door.