Chapter 198:
He wanted to demand what right she had to call him a scumbag when she had someone she could crawl into bed with whenever she pleased. At least he could say he’d never shared a bed with anyone other than her.
Freya paused, her mind racing through memories. Charlie was a gift she’d bought for herself on her seventeenth birthday.
She was now twenty-four, subtract two years for their marriage, that left five years before.
Kristian was on the verge of losing it. How long had she been sharing her bed with Charlie that she had to count the years?
“Is it really that hard to keep track?” he asked, his voice a menacing growl, echoing through the tense air between them.
Freya was abruptly snapped out of her reverie by his sudden closeness, his face mere inches from hers.
His lips held a strange blend of icy chill and gentle warmth.
Deep within, the beast that he had caged for so long clawed at its confines, nearly breaking free.
Caught off guard, Freya didn’t anticipate his advance. As his warmth enveloped her, a few seconds lapsed before her mind could process the sensation.
Her delayed reaction only fueled the fervor in Kristian. Grasping the back of her head gently, he deepened the kiss, his passion mounting.
Just as he was poised to take things further, Freya shoved him back forcefully, gasping for air.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, her heart racing, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue.
𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 g⍺𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘴﹐ⅽ𝗈𝗺
Frantically, she wiped her lips, her eyes brimming with a storm of emotions.
“It’s just a kiss between a husband and his wife,” Kristian retorted, his gaze intense as he watched her lips, his voice rough with desire. A subtle movement rippled through his throat. “What else would it be?”
Freya’s anger flared, yet she found herself at a loss for words in the moment.
After dabbing at her lips a few more times, she fixed him with a stern look.
“You’re with Ashley now,” she stated icily. “Don’t kiss me with lips that have touched another woman. It’s utterly disgusting.”
Kristian’s gaze lingered on Freya’s lips, now a deeper shade of red from her nervous biting. His throat felt dry, like desert sand.
Stepping forward, he towered over her, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The rough timbre of his voice broke the silence.
“What did you just say?”
“I said I… Mm…”
Her words faltered, muffled by his sudden, passionate kiss.
Kristian cradled the back of her head with one hand, while his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer with a gentle yet electrifying grasp.
In those moments, Freya found herself utterly overpowered. Each kiss melted her resistance, leaving her helplessly swept away by his commanding presence.
The typically stoic and composed Kristian, once ruffled and passionate, transformed into an intoxicatingly dangerous enigma.
Her remaining shred of rationality clawed at her, urging her to break away. She feared that if she stayed, she would remain ensnared by him, wandering through a dreamlike trance.
.
.
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