The Extraordinary Bride Of The Wyndham Family (Isla and Gabriel) novel Chapter 160

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He was a player, always had been, and Betsy loved him for it-the raw edge, the danger that made her pulse race Those filthy words spilling from his lips? They set her on fire every thine, twisting her insides with a hunger she couldn’t deny. And he knew it, oh he knew, and even now, with her heart cracking under the weight of her unhappiness, he wielded it like a weapon, turning her vulnerability into his playground.

“Let me give you the best fuck of your life, sweetheart,” Ben growled low against her ear, his voice thick with lust, sending shivers racing down her spine. “Let me pleasure you with me driving deep inside you, just the way you like it-hard, relentless, filling you up until you can’t think straight.”

Her back arched against his chest, the heat of his body searing through her like a brand. God, she wanted to turn, to crash her lips against his, to pour out the storm of emotions churning Inside her-love, frustration, desperate need. But his grip tightened on her waist, iron-strong and unyielding, holding her in place as if she were his to command.

Before she could even form a protest, his hands moved with fast purpose. He shoved his trousers down his legs, kicking them aside in a rough motion that made her heart pound. Then, in one fluid yank, he stripped her short nightgown from her body, the cool air of the penthouse kissing her bare skin, making her nipples tighten even more.

In a fast, unbelievable move, he thrust deep inside her, his thick length stretching her wide, burying himself to the hilt in one searing plunge. The sudden fullness hit her like a lightning bolt, her walls clenching around him instinctively, slick with the arousal she’d been fighting all night.

“Fuck, Ben, please,” she cried out, her voice breaking on a sob of pleasure and pain, tears still streaking her cheeks as her body betrayed her completely. The emotions swirled-hatred for how he played her, love for the way he owned her, a deep ache for the connection she craved beyond this physical blaze.

His hands roamed her body again, greedy and teasing, fingers pinching her nipples until they throbbed, sending sparks of heat straight to her core. One hand slid up to grab her neck, tilting her face toward him in a possessive hold that made her breath catch. His grey eyes locked on hers, dark with hunger and something unspoken, deeper.

He kissed her immediately, urgent and hungry, devouring her mouth like a man starved. His tongue plunged in, claiming every inch, mirroring the way his length filled her from behind-deep, unapologetic, owning her in every filthy, perfect way. She

melted into it, moaning into his mouth, her hips rocking back against him despite the tears and heartbreak.

He was rough, always so rough, pounding into her with a force that matched her wildest desires, but she knew the truth: he was

a player, untrustworthy, his heart as guarded as a vault. Yet here he was, claiming her body like it was his right, his alone, and it tore her apart even as it pushed her toward the edge.

He stopped moving, just holding still inside her, his length pulsing hot and thick against her sensitive walls, and already the pressure built, coiling tight in her belly. Her walls fluttered around him, on the brink of shattering, the intensity overwhelming -waves of need crashing over the sorrow, making her gasp and tremble.

She couldn’t tell him. She wouldn’t dare whisper how deeply she’d fallen, how his touch had cracked open her guarded heart.

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