The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 73

"Focus." Dissatisfied with her wandering mind, Rhys bit lightly at her collarbone. "Close your eyes."

He knew her body too well—where she was sensitive, where she was ticklish—he knew it better than Clara did herself.

Clara bit her lip, not wanting to give him any response.

But it was difficult.

After fitting together for five years, her body was screaming for more.

"Rhys, stop acting like an animal in heat."

"Between husband and wife, it's called passion."

Rhys turned her over, looking down at her in the dim moonlight.

Clara's face looked exceptionally cold and beautiful in the shadows, mockery hanging at the corners of her eyes and brows. Instead of deterring him, it provoked a deep-seated desire for conquest within the man.

These past few days, she hadn't made a scene, hadn't called to check up on him, and hadn't even asked where his business trip had taken him.

This uncharacteristic obedience made him feel somewhat uneasy.

"Why is your temper getting worse?"

He mumbled the question while kissing her collarbone, his hands never stopping as he skillfully undid the buttons of her pajamas.

"It's not," Clara tilted her head back, watching the shifting light and shadows on the ceiling. "How would I dare be angry with Captain Huntington?"

"Liar."

Rhys pinched her waist, causing Clara to draw a sharp breath in pain.

The snow outside the window grew heavier, while the air inside the room was churned into a suffocating heat by him.

Clara gritted her teeth, refusing to make a sound, but in the final moments, he forced a whimper from her.

Rhys reached for her hand. As he interlaced their fingers, he felt her bare ring finger.

"Is the ring uncomfortable?"

Clara hadn't recovered yet; her voice was broken and breathless: "It's comfortable... considering it cost... three million..."

Rhys's movements paused.

"Bringing up money at a time like this?" He bit her earlobe, his tone slightly fierce. "Clara, when will that mouth of yours ever say something nice?"

"Probably... when you stop lying."

He cut off the rest of her sentence with his kiss.

...

After the sex, Clara lay limp on the bed, aching all over.

Rhys, on the other hand, looked refreshed.

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