The Day I Stopped Waiting Was the Day He Started Begging novel Chapter 65

The bathroom was entirely enveloped in warm, lingering steam.

The sweltering heat made Madeline irritable. Wrapping a towel tightly around herself, she cracked the door open just a sliver.

"Give them to me."

Her tone was sharp, but lacked any real bite.

Standing by the doorway, York chuckled wickedly.

Madeline snatched the clothes from his hand and changed inside. She waited until the bathroom had completely cooled down before finally stepping out.

When she pushed the door open, she found York leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed, waiting for her like a predator cornering its prey.

Fresh from the shower, Madeline was still kissed by the damp warmth of the room. Her raven hair fell in wet waves, tiny droplets cascading from the ends to trace a path down her elegant neck, disappearing past the collar of her loose silk pajamas and brushing against her luminous skin.

The hot water had brought a delicate flush to her radiant complexion. Her features were soft, her dark eyes glistening as if veiled in a fine mist.

She smelled intoxicatingly of rose body wash, yet her expression remained as coldly unapproachable as ever.

That was exactly the expression he loved most. It stirred a dark, overwhelming urge in him to shatter her untouchable facade.

He wanted to see those icy eyes melt into absolute surrender.

York leaned heavily against the doorway, his predatory gaze locking onto her the second she appeared, raking over every inch of her without an ounce of hesitation.

His eyes tracked from the flush of her ears to the delicate curve of her nose, before finally burning into the soft, enticing red of her lips.

This was his wife.

The woman he obsessed over day and night.

The desperate hunger he had buried for countless nights ignited like a wildfire, racing through his veins and consuming his every thought.

York's Adam's apple bobbed heavily. Before Madeline could even process his movement, his arm shot out, firmly anchoring around her slender waist and yanking her flush against his chest.

A split second later, he crashed his lips down onto hers.

The kiss was frantic and demanding, laden with two excruciating years of absolute craving.

From the very first moment he laid eyes on her upon returning, he had wanted to do exactly this.

"How exactly am I supposed to show my face in public tomorrow?"

"Serves you right. That's your problem for not keeping your hands to yourself."

Madeline dragged in a ragged breath, fighting to steady her racing heart.

Habits were terrifying. She had worked so relentlessly to overcome this addiction to him.

The second he crossed the line, every memory, every intoxicating thrill came flooding back to destroy her defenses.

Thankfully, she had pulled herself out of it fast enough.

"York, I have absolutely zero interest in breakup sex with my soon-to-be ex-husband."

Even such vulgar words sounded soft coming from her lips, completely lacking any real threat.

Her eyes were filled with unspoken accusation. Whether from the steam of the shower or the overwhelming emotion, they shimmered with unshed tears.

If this were the York from two years ago, once the fire was lit, he wouldn't stop until he dragged her to bed.