His fingers tightened around her wrist, firm enough to leave marks when she struggled.
He leaned closer, his voice low. “If you don’t want to leave empty-handed, then don’t let me hear those words again.”
“Which words?” she shot back. “Divorce? If you don’t want to hear it, I’ll say it even louder. Divorce. Divorce. Chris, let’s get a divorce.”
Her hair was still tousled from the chaos earlier. Heat had flushed her cheeks, and loose strands clung to her face. Her eyes burned with defiance, resentment, and resolve.
Chris narrowed his eyes. He tightened his grip on her wrists and suddenly lunged forward.
“Don’t touch me,” she fought frantically, but she couldn’t dodge his kiss.
Chris forced her mouth open, kissing her with brutal possession. The more she struggled, the deeper he
kissed her.
His fingers traced the back of her neck, then gripped tight, forcing her to angle her face toward his. His bridge pressed against her nose as he kissed her, eyes half-open, watching the reddened corners of her
eyes.
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