TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 252

CHAPTER DEFINE NEL PLANT WAY T

CHAPTER 184: THE INELEGANT WAY 1

EMBER’S POV

His breathing changes – shorter, shallower- and his eyes drop to my hand and come back up to my face, to my lips and the hunger in them is so naked, so absolute, that a different woman might mistake it for love.

“I’m tired of fighting,” I whisper. “I’m tired of being angry. I’m tired of wanting a man who doesn’t want me back.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

–

“Maybe not.” I slide my hand higher on his thigh – just an inch, just enough to feel the heat spike between us, and Rafael’s hand comes up to cover mine again and his fingers are trembling and I think – this is what power feels like.

Not the kind men have, the kind that comes from fists and money and crowns. The devious kind.

The kind a woman carries when she understands that desire is a leash and she’s holding the other end.

“Ember.” My name in his mouth sounds like a man drowning. “Tell me this is real.”

“Does it feel real?”

—

I slip from my chair into his lap in one fluid motion straddling him, my knees on either side of his hips, the red dress pooling around us like spilled wine.

His hands fly to my waist instinctively, gripping, steadying, and the sound he makes – a low, wrecked

groan that vibrates through his chest and into mine – is the sound of a man whose fantasy is

materializing in his arms and he can’t believe it’s happening.

“Ember-” His voice is a ruined thing.

I have broken Rafael Montenegro with nothing but proximity and the performance of wanting him and the power of that is dizzying and repulsive in equal measure.

I take his hand from my waist and guide it up over my ribs, over the fabric of the Valentino dress he spent three hours choosing, up to the curve of my collarbone where the dress meets skin.

His fingers are hot against me and his eyes are glazed and his breathing is ragged and he looks, in this moment, like everything a woman could want if she didn’t know what I know.

I lean in until my lips are a breath from his.

“Tell me more about Buenos Aires,” I whisper against his mouth. “Tell me everything about the restaurant and the summer menu and the private terrace.”

His hand tightens on my collarbone and his eyes flutter half–closed and his mouth begins to form words

and I think

NOW

CHAPTER IN THE NFLMIANT WAY 1

Islam my forehead into his nose.

The brutal smack is immediate and satisfying – cartilage giving way, blood spraying, his head snapping backward so hard the chair tilts.

Before he can recover I rake my nails across his face the same cheek I slapped earlier, tearing his old bruises open fresh, and I dig deep, aiming for his eyes, and he growls and throws his arm up to shield himself and that’s when I drive my knee into his groin with every ounce of force my body has.

Rafael doubles over. The chair topples. We hit the floor in a tangle of blood and the Valentino dress tears along the thigh as I scramble off him and the sound he makes is a vicious snarl of a beast whose mask has finally slipped.

“You–FUCKING-”

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