When the fear of isolation pulls Ashton and Ria together, nothing can prepare them for the collision. An anomaly shatters the repetitive fabric of their lives, sending them on a journey of discovering themselves and one another.
Beneath Ashton's gen...
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FLAMES CONCEALED BENEATHDELICACY, a phenomenon that never fails to fascinate Vincent. It draws him in like a moth to a flame...to her flame. There are only two women he's ever encountered that harbor a fiery spirit beneath their delicate auras.
One of them belongs to Camilla Rodriguez.
Vincent's favorite toy.
Plump crimson lips are parted, releasing soft breaths as she clings to slumber. There's no doubt that the events of last night exhausted her more than normal. A sly smile snakes across his lips and he trails his fingers across her soft bronze skin.
Sleeping with the wife of his competitor is one of the longest games he's dabbled in. To hurt the man he hates the most and to play with the heart of his wife brings Vincent an extra dose of invigorating pleasures. Emotional torture, he realizes, is much more enticing than any mental or physical pain.
Long lashes flutter as Camilla stirs and lays her russet eyes on him. An instinctive smile radiates from her feminine features and she wraps an arm around his waist. "Why do you always watch me sleep?" she murmurs. "You give me a heart attack with those eyes of yours."
Vincent leans down and presses his lips to her warm cheek before whispering in her ear, "I love watching you in your most vulnerable state, kpacotka."
"Mmm." She stretches beneath him, allowing her bare skin to rub against his, sparking dangerous friction between them. "If I didn't know you so well, I'd find the things you say really creepy."
A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he nibbles along the curve of her jaw. "Don't pretend that it doesn't arouse you." He climbs on top of her and bores into the eyes of his beautiful obsession. He loves the perfect dip and curve of her body; full and perky as if she were ten years junior to her actual age. "I can make you feel things that bastard, Jose, never could."
Camilla rolls her eyes and shoves at his chest, forcing him back on the bed next to her. "You men are so ego-sensitive," she purrs beneath her Spanish accent. "I don't want to talk about my husband right now, querido. I escaped for the weekend to be with you."
"I'm sorry," he spits bitterly, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Maybe I am just annoyed that you still end up with him at the end of the day. I hate thinking about him touching you." Vincent traces his fingers along her smooth pelvis, extracting shivers from her frame. "Or kissing you." He brushes his lips over hers. "You're mine, Camilla."
"I belong to myself, Vincent." She nibbles on his bottom lip and trails her hands down the muscles of his abdomen. "You're so possessive of me."
"Because I love you," he growls and digs his fingers into her waist. "I'm not used to being kept from what I love."
Silk bed sheets become entangled between their legs as they continue to flirt with the idea of sex and pain. Camilla smirks and slings an arm around his shoulder. "Your love is toxic."
