Chapter 402
[ 545 words ]
Chapter 402:
His question hung in the air, heavy and final. “What is it you really want?” It wasn’t an accusation anymore; it was a plea for a truth he was already certain would destroy him. Caroline watched the agony etched on his face, a direct result of her own inability to speak, and her heart felt like it was being shredded.
The self-loathing in his eyes was unbearable. He was a man who commanded legions, who bent the world to his will, and she had reduced him to this—a man begging to know why his own wife recoiled from his touch.
“If… if you can’t,” Jarrod started, his voice a ragged whisper, the words catching in his throat. He looked away from her, at the blank wall. “If you really don’t want this… I’ll let you go.”
Each word was a shard of glass. He was offering her an exit, an annulment, a clean break. It was an act of profound love, and it was tearing him apart to do it. He couldn’t live like this, chained to a woman who, in his mind, was physically repulsed by him. He looked at her, and she could see it in his face—it was as if he was remembering seeing her for the first time, that defiant spark in her eyes, questioning his own actions. As if he had wanted that spark, not this… terrified obedience. As if he had been so focused on possessing her, he had never truly asked if she wanted to be possessed.
With a deep, shuddering breath, as if he’d made a final, irrevocable decision, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The movement was a clear signal. He was leaving. Leaving the bed, the room, her.
That single motion, the physical act of his departure, triggered a primal panic deep in her gut. She couldn’t let him walk out that door believing this lie.
“Don’t!” The word was a choked cry.
Before he could stand, she launched herself across the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, clinging to him with a desperate strength she didn’t know she possessed. “Don’t go.”
𝗧𝗁e 𝗯𝗲𝘴𝘵 𝗋𝖾vі𝗲𝘄ѕ 𝗼n 𝗀𝗮lո𝗼𝗏e𝗹𝗌.𝖼𝗼𝘮
His body went rigid, a statue of tense muscle. He didn’t turn.
A war was raging inside him. He wrenched himself free from her grasp, spun around, and pushed her back down onto the mattress. He came down on top of her, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was no longer about passion. It was a desperate, angry search for a truth he couldn’t find, a punishment for the pain she was inflicting. It was rough, demanding, and utterly devoid of tenderness.
The force of it hurt her. An instinct for self-preservation kicked in, and she twisted her head, trying to break free.
In that frantic, clumsy movement, her teeth scraped hard against his lower lip.
He froze, a sharp hiss of pain escaping him. A warm, metallic taste flooded her mouth. Blood.
He pulled back, his eyes wide with a fresh wave of horror. He slowly lifted a hand to his mouth, his fingers coming away stained with red.
A terrible, broken laugh escaped him. It was a sound of utter despair. “See?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Your body is more honest than your mouth. It’s literally fighting me off.”
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