Chapter 669: Chapter 669 Claws
“I’m married,” she said at last, the words trembling on her lips, more like a confession than a protest.
“I know,” Ross replied, his voice low, almost soothing.
He moved his hand up to her shoulder and gently turned her to face him.
Kristine allowed it, her breathing shallow, heart hamring inside her chest.
Their eyes locked, and in that long, unbroken gaze, everything was laid bare—her loneliness, his confidence, her guilt, his hunger.
Ross leaned in slowly, without a word, giving her ti to decide. She could pull away. She could say no. But she didn’t.
His face ca closer. Her body didn’t move. Her lips parted slightly, and for a heartbeat, nothing existed except the heat between them and the anticipation humming in the air.
Then, finally, their lips t.
Kristine let out a soft, shuddering breath against his mouth.
“Ahhhh…”
It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a release. A surrender to everything she had held back for too long.
Ross kissed her with exquisite, deliberate seduction.
His lips moved slowly, deeply, as though he had all the ti in the world to savor her—and he did.
His hand cradled the back of her head, guiding her gently, while the other remained at her waist, anchoring her to him.
The kiss wasn’t rushed. It was a dance, a slow burn, the kind that made your skin tingle and your mind go blank.
Kristine was swept away—her thoughts scattered, her body alive in ways it hadn’t been in far too long.
The kiss ignited everything she had tried to suppress: loneliness, frustration, need.
For a full minute, she didn’t resist.
She gave in, letting herself drown in the heat and the hunger.
Then it hit her.
What are you doing?
Her hands pressed against Ross’s chest, firm but not forceful.
She pulled back just enough to break the kiss, gasping slightly, lips tingling from the intensity.
“No,” she said, voice trembling. “This is wrong.”
She shook her head, trying to convince herself more than him. Her eyes didn’t et his.
She couldn’t. It was too much—too close, too raw.
Sha and desire warred inside her, battling for control.
Her body was still reacting, flushed and alive, even as her mind scread for restraint.
Ross said nothing.
For a brief mont, silence settled between them—thick, weighted with tension.
She expected him to speak, to whisper sothing clever or persuasive, to charm her back into submission with a few well-placed words.
That was how it always went, wasn’t it?
The temptation, the reasoning, the slow unraveling.
But Ross didn’t speak.
Instead, he moved.
He stepped forward, closing the space between them with purpose.
Then, without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into the air.
Kristine let out a soft gasp as her feet left the ground, surprised at how effortlessly he carried her.
Her arms instinctively looped around his shoulders, and her legs wrapped around his waist as if they had a mind of their own.
The shift in position pressed her tightly against him, and her breath caught in her throat.
She could feel it—him—hard and thick beneath his pants, pushing up against the soft, damp heat between her legs.
The contact was sudden and intimate, even through the layers of fabric.
Her body reacted instantly. A pulse of arousal surged through her, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud.
“Ross…” she breathed, unsure if it was a plea or a warning.
But before she could say anything more, he kissed her again.
This ti, it wasn’t gentle.
It was hungry. Fierce. His lips claid hers with an intensity that left her dizzy.
Her back arched against him, one hand tangling in his hair, the other gripping his shoulder like a lifeline.
All her resistance crumbled in an instant.
Her thoughts, her vows, her guilt—all of it was drowned out by the feel of him, the scent of him, the overwhelming need to be touched.
To be wanted.
Ross didn’t stop. He carried her as if she were weightless, as if she belonged in his arms, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
The kiss didn’t break even as he stepped through the doorway behind them, into the darkened room.
The door swung shut behind them with a quiet thud, sealing them away from the outside world.
Kristine hesitated at first. Her hands trembled faintly against Ross’s chest, the last remnants of resistance flickering within her.
She wasn’t drunk, not like Sasha. She could still think, still reason. And reason told her to stop.
But her body told a different story.
Ross’s tongue pressed against her lips—hot, firm, insistent—and she gasped, opening to him without even realizing.
His tongue slid into her mouth, claiming it as if it had always belonged to him.
Their tongues t in a slow, hungry tangle, twisting and teasing, tasting each other without restraint.
There was nothing polite about it. No hesitation. No uncertainty. It was raw, primal, and greedy.
Saliva mingled as they kissed with abandon, their breaths growing faster, heavier, hotter.
Kristine didn’t care anymore.
She kissed him back like she had been starving for years.
Kristine moaned softly into the kissz
“Mmmmm…” A helpless sound torn straight from her throat.
Ross’s mouth moved like a man who knew exactly what he was doing, what she needed, what would make her lt.
His kiss wasn’t just skilled—it was overwhelming.
Each movent, each flick of his tongue, each graze of his lips stole another piece of her control.
His breath was warm and clean, fresh and addictive.
It filled her senses, left her lightheaded.
And suddenly, the truth hit her like a bolt of lightning.
This was, without question, the most exquisite kiss she had ever experienced.
She had only ever been kissed by one man before—her husband, Colton.
But this… this was sothing else entirely.
With Colton, it was always soft, reserved, controlled. With Ross, it was a storm.
Every second of contact sent shockwaves through her system.
She didn’t just feel kissed—she felt devoured.
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