Page 47 of Bared Betrayal
A groan vibrates up my throat as I lose control. This is no longer a game between predator and prey, sadist and masochist. This is two people untethered and possessed, ready to be consumed by whatever the fuck it is that seems to grow stronger by the second.
“Can I…” Her throat moves beneath my hand as she struggles to speak. “Can I…come?” Her voice shakes, her body trembling against mine. “I need to come.”
“Fuck!” I roar, pushing so deep into her, her feet lift off the floor. “Yes. Come for me.”
This time I squeeze hard enough to restrict the tiniest amount of airflow, and it’s like her body breaks. There’s nothing but choking gags coming from her mouth as she comes so hard she squirts her juices all over my cock and desk.
I follow right after, filling her with my cum, grunting with every thrust, overwhelmed with the need to force my cum so deep inside her, it’ll fucking stay there forever so I can claim her as mine even though she belongs to my son.
I let go of her throat, and she collapses on my desk, gasping as she tries to come down from the high. Her back arches as she heaves for breath. I fall back in my office chair. My heart is pounding, and my head is spinning. What is it about her? How can her heady mix of depravity and innocence make me lose myself? But the better question…why does she have to belong to my son?
“I think you’re right.” She pushes herself up and turns to face me, her hair and makeup a beautiful mess, but she is still the most captivating thing in this entire fucking world. “Maybe I did come here for this.” A tear slips down her cheek, and I fight the urge to lick it up. “This is too fucked-up, Gabriel.”
I stand, loosening my tie and the first few buttons of my shirt before pulling it over my head.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Stay still.”
I gently ease my shirt between her legs, cleaning the mess we made that now drips down her inner thighs. Our eyes remain locked the entire time, and for a moment I’m lost within the forest of her green irises. I can see it, the pain, the torment, the haunting. And I’m taken aback by the sudden need to somehow make it go away.
I don’t like what I’m feeling. How everything inside me screams that this woman is mine. She’s not mine, no matter how my soul screams that she is.
Crouching in front of her, I gently ease her pants back up, and I straighten just as another tear rolls down her face.
“This can’t happen again, Gabriel.”
“That’s what we said the last time this happened.”
“This time we have to mean it.” There’s no conviction in her words. There’s no determination in her eyes as she speaks it.
“Why did you send me the articles?” she asks while studying me. “What gave you the right to dig into my past?”
“Kallie, I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about.”
Fourteen
KALLIE
There’sanother stupid dinner party—one of the many events leading up to the wedding Sebastian’s grandmother has planned. I’m sure it’s everything she deems appropriate and to her taste. I’ve been dreading it since I was informed the bride’s attendance is mandatory, and people would notice if I weren’t there.
I, on the other hand, doubt I would be missed, but Sebastian is home for this event, and he might notice if I decided not to attend—that’s if his phone died, or a co-star asked about me.
Still, I have been a terrible fiancée, lusting after someone else, fucking another man—his father, of all people. That shame would burn my soul for the rest of my life, but really, what is another hole in my darkened existence? For him and out of guilt, I’ll do my best to kowtow to as many of his grandmother’s wishes as possible.
The grand dining room at some event hall is exquisitely decorated in dark reds and brilliant shades of gold. It is stunning, if not dated, and not to my personal tastes. I’m wearing a pale pink strapless dress with layers of soft blush tulle for the skirt. It’s elegant, flowing, and delicately feminine. It reminds me of graceful ballerinas and how they look so soft but are so unbelievably strong. I want to channel that strength, so I pulled my hair into an updo to highlight my neck and shoulders and take the focus off my curves and chest. I wanted to look polished and elegant. Like a sophisticated woman worthy of being on Sebastian Stone’s arm.
I thought I had achieved the perfect look for the night until I walked into this room, and I suddenly feel out of place, like a little girl playing dress-up. My blush pink dress just seems to fade into the background with all these bold colors and harsh lines.
“Kallie, darling, there you are.” Elenor’s shrill voice sends shivers of anxiety down my spine. I resist the urge to run in the other direction, and instead give her what I hope is a gracious smile as she greets me.
She’s wearing a stunning dark red dress that is far too revealing and extremely inappropriate for the grandmother of the groom. It would be inappropriate for the mother of the groom, or even the sister of the groom. But if her goal was to match the décor, she succeeded.
“I’ve been searching for you everywhere,” she says, and I’m silently praying for the walls to swallow me.
She does a quick up and down scan of my dress, and her lip curls in disgust. The expression is gone as quickly as it appeared, but it’s enough for me to know I’ve failed to meet her expectations yet again.
“Don’t you look pretty,” she says, her cloyingly sweet and condescending tone making my back stiffen. “I took the liberty and invited all your bridesmaids tonight. I figured it would be fitting since Sebastian’s groomsmen are here. It’s a chance for everyone to mingle and such.” She takes my arm, her nails digging into my flesh as she drags me toward a group of women I’ve never even seen before.
