Marriage and Revenge

Prologue

"This is not right, sir," Aurora whispered, her voice trembling as Damon pressed himself against her, his hips thrusting with a relentless rhythm. The heat of his sweat-slicked skin burned against hers, each movement grinding her deeper into the tangled sheets.

"Shh. Don't ruin it, woman," Damon growled low, his voice a rough rasp that vibrated through her skull. His breath came in hot, jagged bursts against her ear, reeking of whiskey and lust, as he pinned her beneath him. He seized her lips with his own, a bruising, possessive kiss that crushed her protests into silence. His tongue forced its way past her teeth, thick and insistent, tangling with hers in a wet, messy dance that left her gasping for air—each thrust of it a mirror to the relentless pumping of his hips.

She clawed at the damp sheets beneath her, her fists twisting the soaked cotton as her body rocked under his weight. Her thighs trembled, slick with sweat and the evidence of her arousal, as she fought to choke back the desperate moans clawing their way up her throat. Every thrust drove his cock deeper, stretching her tight, aching walls with a rhythm that was both punishing and intoxicating—his thick shaft slick with her juices, sliding in and out with a wet, obscene squelch that filled the air. The less noise she made, the less real it seemed—as if the creaking groan of the mattress, the slap of his heavy balls against her ass, and the filthy, primal sounds of their fucking could remain locked in this room. If no one heard the way her cunt gripped him, hungry and betraying her every vow, then no one would know. And if no one knew, maybe the gnawing guilt—sharp as a blade twisting in her chest—would loosen its hold on her racing heart, pounding so hard she swore he could feel it against his sweat-drenched chest.

"You've ruined me," she gasped, her voice cracking as he shuddered, his climax spilling inside her with a guttural groan. He collapsed beside her, chest heaving, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. She lay there, exposed and glistening, her skin flushed from exertion. Too spent to cover herself, she let her heavy limbs sink into the forbidden bed—its rumpled sheets a silent witness to their sin—before sleep dragged her under like a tide.

"This will have to stop at some point," she murmured later, stirring awake, her voice thick with dread. "Either my husband will find out—catch the scent of you on me—or I'll crack and confess it all to him. Neither will end well." She rolled onto her side, her bare curves catching the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains, her body a shadowed reflection of his.

"But at least it will end," Damon replied, his voice a low, velvet promise, "and we'll be free to do this whenever..." His index finger traced a slow, deliberate path from her trembling chin, over the soft swell of her breasts, down the quivering plane of her midriff, until it reached the slick heat between her thighs. He pressed it inside her swollen core, her sharp gasp slicing through the humid air.

"...and wherever..." he purred, sliding a second finger into her, stretching her tender flesh as her hips bucked involuntarily. Her wetness coated his hand, the obscene sound of it mingling with her stifled whimpers.

"...we want," he finished, his words a dark cadence timed with the thrusting of his fingers. He leaned in, his lips crashing against hers, swallowing her cries as his pace quickened—merciless, driving her toward the edge. Her body arched, taut as a bowstring, her nails digging into his shoulder as the pleasure coiled tighter, hotter, until it snapped.

"We are bad people," she panted, her voice raw as the waves of her climax crashed through her, leaving her trembling and slick with sweat. He pulled his fingers free, glistening with her release, and smirked.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice husky with satisfaction. He pressed a lazy, wet kiss to the peak of her breast, his tongue flicking briefly against the hardened tip before he nestled against her. His muscled frame molded to her softer one, possessive and unapologetic. She draped an arm over him, halfhearted and heavy, her eyes fluttering shut. Once again, she surrendered to the pull of her traitorous body—regret twisting in her gut like a knife, yet drowned by the pulsing satisfaction and the dark, forbidden joy that lingered in her veins.

Thirty year old, business tycoon, and a known ruthless man, and a twenty one year old naive woman who married young get tangled in a whirlwind of chaos, escapism and lust to the point where the fine line between acceptable and morally acceptable faded. This is a prologue to a messy, complicated, yet emotionally tantalizing story that will keep you hooked.

***

Author's note:

Hey readers,
First of all, this is not like your loving couple stories. It is a dark romance that'll have a lot of plot twists, mature content, violence, self-harm, infidelity and loads of surprises and thrills.

If you're look for daily soap romance, this is not the right place.

However, if you're into sadistic pleasure, you're in the right place.

This is not the first chapter, it is a sneak peak into what the book is going to be like. If you're comfortable and strong enough to read through this type of genre, go ahead. If not, I suggest you stop right here.

Let's see what happens to the biography of Damon Neilson and Aurora Channing, how their life unfolds when they cross paths, and how they tackle the thorns of the rose.

Also, do let me know how you liked the prologue