The Genius Ex-Wife’s Revenge Portfolio novel Chapter 217

She went rigid, panic flashing in her eyes. “David, please… Don’t.”

But he wouldn’t let her go. He pulled her close, pressing her back into the sofa cushions and kissed her, his lips finding hers with a hunger she’d never felt before. She struggled, desperately trying to break free, but her resistance only seemed to spur him on. In the chaos, a vase crashed to the floor, sending newspapers and magazines sliding everywhere.

Suddenly, she stopped moving. Her forehead had hit the top of the sofa, and tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes.

David froze too, shock written all over his face. His eyes searched hers, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “You… You’re a virgin?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, raw with disbelief.

He had never imagined it, not for a second.

Ella pushed herself up, her body trembling, and bit down hard on his shoulder. She didn’t hold back, sinking her teeth in so deep it felt like she wanted to leave a permanent mark.

David’s jaw tightened, muscles all over his body tensing with pain. He couldn’t hold back a rough, muffled groan.

He grabbed her face, gentle but firm, and forced her to let go. He used his left hand, and Ella caught a glimpse of the long scar on his palm—the one he’d gotten saving her. But that old injury couldn’t erase the way he’d treated her just moments before.

Tears streamed down her face, her gaze sharp as she stared at him, silent but accusing.

Something inside David cracked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick and hoarse. “It’s my fault.”

He was still reeling. She had never been with anyone. He was her first. And the way he’d spoken to her before… the things he’d accused her of…

Ella turned away, refusing to look at him or accept his apology.

Desperate, David took her small hand and smacked it against his own face, hard.

The sound echoed in the quiet room.

Ella stared at him in shock.

Ella closed her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. The reflection in the tall window showed the man above her—bare-chested, strong and defined, his back as beautiful as a sculpture.

She felt like a tiny boat tossed in the ocean, helpless against the waves, thrown up and pulled under, lost and swept away until she didn’t know where she ended and he began.

…

Her eyelashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. Morning light spilled into the room. She was still in David’s arms, curled up with him on the sofa. He was sound asleep, his arm draped over her shoulder, holding her close.

She tried to move, but her whole body ached. Last night, they’d slept together.

Ella watched him sleep, his face peaceful in the soft light. Carefully, in a whisper, she finally asked the question she didn’t have the courage for last night.

“David, did you ever love me? Even just a little?”