Page 91 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

Their lips met in a fiery clash of tongues and saliva and teeth. She grabbed him by the hair and held him, and he wrapped his hands around her face and kept it there as they devoured one another. There was no emotion in the kiss, other than hate and fury, and they bathed in it because they both seemed to understand what this meant.

Her teeth locked onto his lips and bit down. He roared and pulled back, grabbing a hold of the back of her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, and then latching on with his lips and teeth and sucking and biting all at once.

“Let me go!” she moaned. “I said?—”

Benedict pulled back, grabbed a hold of her waist, spun her around, and pushed her against the banister. Then he stepped closer to her so that his hulking frame loomed over her. One arm wrapped around her chest, the other still on her waist, he put his lips right to her ear and nipped it before pulling back, as if trying to tear it.

“And I said, don’t tell me what to do,” he growled.

Selina gasped as she tried to wiggle free. He refused to allow her, kissing and nibbling down her neck as he held her in place. Her hips were pressed against his crotch, and she could feel his manhood growing hard, so she ground her hips against it, which had him groaning.

“I hate you,” she moaned as she felt him thicken.

“Not as much as I hate myself.”

Her hand reached down and found its way to the front of his pants. She gripped his throbbing member as if it belonged to her, squeezing it so hard that he roared as if from pain but she knew it to be pleasure.

He pressed her harder against the banister as he wiggled free from his pants. Then he reached down and lifted her skirt, holding her steady with one hand as the other forced her legs apart.

“This marriage is over,” she snarled over her shoulder, while at the same time lifting her leg and allowing him to position himself between her legs.

“Selina, as far as I am concerned, it never began,” he said as he thrust into her.

She felt him slide inside her, inch by inch, until she was full of him. Both his hands were now on her waist, and she was powerless to stop him as he began to thrust. She held on to the banister. She gripped it so tight that her hands began to ache. But she barely felt it compared to the spikes of pleasure that radiated through her body with each thrust.

They were hard and fast thrusts, as if Benedict was trying to expel all his feelings, all his desires, every thought he’d ever had of her. As if he hated her and needed her to know it. Or rather, as if hated himself, which was more likely.

He held her as he continued to thrust and pound and punish. His hands gripped her waist tighter. She threw her head back, and he latched onto her neck again. Harder and faster he thrust, and she wiggled her hips as she felt his legs begin to shake. She let go of the banister and fell back. His arms wrapped around her chest as he pulled her back against him and bit her neck, finishing inside her.

She felt him throb and then fill her. She felt his body stiffen, the way he roared and then exhaled, and then stumbled back. She felt him leave her, a sensation akin to him tearing a piece of her that she knew she would never get back.

And once he stumbled away and she was free from his embrace, the spell was broken and she could not bear to so much as look at him. For how disgusted she was by him, she was just as disgusted by herself.

Selina smoothed down her dress and powered up the steps, leaving her husband there, his pants still around his ankles, his breathing ragged and heavy as he tried to reckon with what had just happened. She made sure to walk heavily so he could hear her footsteps. And she made sure to slam the door to her bedroom shut so the sound would echo through the house.

It was not until she was alone, pacing the room, trying to keep that anger present because it was the only thing keeping her from breaking down, that she was forced to consider what had just happened… what it might mean… and where she went from here.

Her marriage was over. It really was that simple.

It had lasted for close to two months, longer than they had thought possible, but nowhere near long enough. For a moment, she had wondered if it could be more than she had dared to dream, but no. Now she knew that was impossible.

She had loved Benedict. He had rejected her love. And from that, there could be no going back. So, finally, with that realization, Selina collapsed on the floor and wept.

It felt like the first smart decision she had made all day.

Chapter Thirty-One

The soft knock at the door snapped Benedict back into the room. He was sitting in his study, not working, but sequestered there because he had nowhere else to go. He could not return to his bedroom, for Selina was there, and the prospect of facing her was not one he relished. And to sleep in a spare room tonight felt like an admission of defeat.

I have done nothing wrong! She is the one who… I was only… This is all because of her!

Still, when he heard that knock, his heart leaped because he hoped it might be her. Here to apologize. Perhaps here to demand an apology from him. Either way, he wanted it to be Selina because after the fight they had just had, the things they said, the decision they reached…

Could this really be how it ends?

“Benedict?” Edmund’s voice spoke as the door cracked open. “Are you decent?”

Benedict’s stomach dropped, and he sank down in his chair. “I suppose that depends. Although the word decent feels about as far removed from my current state as could be possible.”

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