Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 125

It was as if Bennett wanted to devour her whole, to fuse her into his very bones and blood.

He kissed Gwyneth until she was breathless, her mind a blank slate. All she could do was utter a faint, helpless whimper before he finally released her.

She collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air. Her eyes were glazed, cheeks flushed a deep crimson, lips swollen and glistening from his relentless assault. There was something breathtakingly seductive about her in that moment—utterly conquered, left trembling in the aftermath.

Bennett’s chest heaved as he stared at her, the fire in his eyes burning so hot it threatened to consume everything.

He could feel every inch of his body roaring with desire—urging him to claim her, to make her entirely his, this woman who had shattered his self-control.

But no.

A cold, harsh voice detonated in the back of his mind.

Taking advantage.

The words crashed over him like a bucket of ice water.

He, Bennett—proud to the core—how could he possibly cross the line when she was barely conscious, her mind clouded by the drugs?

What would that make him, if not a monster?

A surge of self-disgust and the last shreds of his pride smothered his raging need.

He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the fire was gone, replaced by a shadowy darkness and a restraint so fierce it bordered on pain.

Without another moment’s hesitation, he bent down and scooped Gwyneth into his arms. She was still breathing unevenly, her awareness slipping in and out. Limp and yielding, she nestled against his chest, her feverish cheek pressed to his heart.

Holding her tightly, Bennett strode toward the bathroom, every step a battle against the tension coiling inside him.

He turned on the cold tap, letting icy water rush into the bathtub. With utmost care, he settled Gwyneth into the frigid bath.

“Ah… it’s cold…” The shock of the water made her instinctively try to shrink away.

Bennett kept a steady hand on her shoulder, his voice taut with effort and yet impossibly gentle, laced with an undeniable authority.

“Stay still. You need to clear your head. Now.”

His gaze skimmed over her soaked evening dress, the fabric clinging to every curve. His throat tightened as he forced himself to look away, standing abruptly and turning his back to the tub.

He left the bathroom in long, urgent strides, as if fleeing a furnace about to explode.

He shut the door behind him, sealing off any sight or sound from within, then slumped against the cool wood. Tilting his head back, he sucked in desperate breaths, sweat beading at his temple.

The beast inside him still raged, every nerve screaming at him to go back.

He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles went white, fighting down the savage urge threatening to tear him apart.

No.

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