Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 33

Chapter 33: The Traitorous Core

The door to her quarters in the East Wing clicked shut, the heavy electronic latch sealing Jannah into a silence that felt entirely too small, too suffocating for the storm raging inside her skin. The room was dark, save for the ambient silver moonlight filtering through the high window.

Jannah moved like a phantom, her knees trembling slightly she could barely support her own weight. She stumbled toward the edge of the bed and dropped heavily onto the mattress, her chest heaving beneath the thick woolen sweater.

She sat there for a long, agonizing beat, her breath coming in shallow hitches. Beneath the heavy wool and the oversized white cotton dress shirt, her lower abdomen was throbbing with an intense, rhythmic heat that made her entire body ache. She was still wet. In fact, the aggressive, bruising pressure of Dorrent’s hand on the highway—the raw, electric contact of his palm pressing over her underwear—had ignited her omega core into a volatile, uncontrollable frenzy.

Slowly, her hands shaking, Jannah leaned back onto the sheets. She parted her legs, the fabric of the oversized shirt riding up her thighs, and slid her fingers down to remove her damp underwear.

When she pulled the thin cotton away from her skin, her breath caught in her throat. It was completely soaked, glistening under the pale moonlight with the clear, heavy evidence of her body’s absolute betrayal.

Why? her mind screamed, a violent wave of humiliation and rage crashing over her chest. Why am I reacting this way to him?

It was a sickening, unnatural reality. Dorrent Grefo was her ultimate enemy—the ruthless, arrogant monster whose wild, unhinged black-cycle rut had trampled her parents, leaving their blood on the cold floorboards of her memory. Her entire mission for entering this gilded palace, the only reason she had accepted Guron’s millions, was to dismantle him from the inside out. She was supposed to be the slow-acting venom in his veins, the shadow that would eventually bring his empire to its knees.

Yet, surprising and terrifying to her, her physical body had never been this responsive to anyone in her entire life. She thought of the six Alphas from the lower district who had previously tried to claim her—the ones who had pursued her, courted her, and tried to force their bonds upon her. Even when they were close, even when their scents filled her room, her body had remained a cold, untouchable fortress. She had felt nothing but indifference or irritation. But Dorrent? Dorrent had done nothing but shout at her, insult her, and call her filth, yet a single, predatory touch from his hand had shattered her defenses, causing her body to turn completely traitor against her mind.

The intense throbbing between her thighs grew heavier, a persistent, demanding ache that clouding her vision with a dark, unbidden desire. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating whether she should use her own fingers to relieve the suffocating pressure.

Masturbate, her instincts whispered. Cool the fire.

But the moment the thought materialized, a deep, bone-deep loathing surged in her throat. She absolutely despised the idea of masturbating right now. To pleasure herself while his scent—that heavy, intoxicating blend of winter frost and dominant masculine musk—was still lingering in her nostrils felt like a disgusting act of submission. It felt as if she were letting him win, as if she were allowing his memory to dominate her body in the dark. She refused to give him that power.

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