Seducing My Fiancé's Father

Chapter Five

The moment his eyes locked on mine, the air in the room shifted.

I had spent days rehearsing this moment in my head, imagining how it would feel if his control finally slipped. And now, it was happening. His gaze lingered on my mouth as though he couldn’t decide if kissing me would destroy him or save him. My chest rose and fell faster than I could control, betraying me, betraying the calm mask I had worn since I stepped into his private lounge.

He closed the distance in slow, deliberate steps, each one making my pulse thunder louder. By the time he reached me, I felt the tremor in my knees, the heat rising in my body.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured, his voice low, rougher than usual.

I tilted my head, daring him even as my breath caught. “Maybe I want to burn.”

The last ounce of pride he had shattered in that instant. He gripped my jaw, firm but not cruel, his thumb brushing across my lower lip as if testing its softness. My lips parted on instinct, inviting. A groan escaped him, half frustration, half surrender, and then his mouth crashed onto mine.

The kiss wasn’t tender. It was a claim. Hungry, punishing, like he’d been starving and I was the first taste of forbidden fruit. I clutched at his shirt, dragging him closer, desperate to feel the strength of him pressed against me. His tongue tangled with mine, demanding, devouring, and I gave back every ounce of my hunger.

When he finally pulled away, both of us were breathing like we’d run a race. His forehead rested against mine, eyes closed as though he hated himself for what he had just done.

“God help me…” he whispered, before sweeping me into his arms.

The sudden move made me gasp, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. His strength was effortless, his body solid and commanding as he carried me across the lounge toward the adjoining room. The door swung open to reveal the large bed waiting in shadows, its sheets crisp and untouched until now.

He laid me down with a look of desperation in his eyes. His weight followed, pinning me softly, his hands roaming over the fabric of my dress with a hunger that had clearly been suppressed for far too long.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he rasped, kissing along my jaw, down to the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.

“Then stop me,” I whispered, arching into his touch.

He didn’t. Of course he couldn’t.

His mouth trailed lower, across the curve of my throat, lingering as though soaking in the taste of my skin. Each kiss burned, leaving me trembling. His fingers found the straps of my bra and slipped them off slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as though silently asking permission.

I nodded once, unable to speak past the storm inside me.

The fabric slid away, exposing my bare my skin inch by inch. The hunger in his eyes deepened, darkened, and for the first time I didn’t see him as the man behind power and control, but as a man undone by me.

He pressed kisses down my collarbone, his hands exploring my body as though memorizing them. When his lips brushed the swell of my breast, I gasped, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. He obeyed, his mouth claiming me, sucking gently before moving lower.

I could feel his body tremble slight even as he tried to hold back. “You’re driving me mad,” he growled against my skin, his hand sliding up my thigh, parting me boldly in a way that sent fire rushing through my veins.

“Then stop holding back,” I breathed, my voice breaking with need.

That was all it took.

His lips returned to mine, crushing, desperate, his body pressing me deeper into the mattress. His hand slipped beneath the last barrier between us, and when his fingers touched me there, a sharp cry escaped my throat. He swallowed it in his kiss, his tongue deepening as his hand worked me into a frenzy.

I writhed beneath him, the heat coiling tight in my belly, every stroke of his fingers pushing me closer to the edge. My nails dug into his shoulders, my hips lifting to meet his touch. “Please,” I gasped, the word spilling before I could stop it.

With a groan, he pulled back, his eyes searching mine, dark and wild. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“I do,” I whispered fiercely. “I want you. All of you.”

His control snapped completely then. He took off his shirt with one swift motion, the sight of his bare chest stealing what little breath I had left. And his eyes... They were full of raw hunger. He pushed the last of my clothing away, leaving me bare before him. His gaze swept down my body slowly, reverently, as though he couldn’t believe I was real. His hand followed the path of his eyes, caressing, stroking, claiming.

When he finally settled between my thighs, his body pressing fully against mine, I felt the length of him hard and unyielding. He groaned again, fighting the urge to lose himself, and kissed me hard, his hands gripping my hips like anchors.

The anticipation was unbearable. Every nerve in my body screamed for him, for the final step that would seal what we both knew could never be undone.

And then he gave in.

The first thrust stole my breath, a sharp cry mingling with his guttural moan. The stretch, the fullness, the heat... it was overwhelming, He paused for a heartbeat, his forehead pressed against mine, as though grounding himself.

“You feel like sin,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Then damn me,” I gasped, clinging to him as he began to move.

Each stroke was deep, powerful, shaking me to my core. His pace quickened, his pride burned away, leaving only raw passion. My cries filled the room, mingling with his grunts, the sound of skin against skin echoing like a forbidden symphony.

He kissed me between thrusts, rough and consuming, as though he needed every part of me, my mouth, my body, my soul. His hands roamed endlessly, gripping, caressing, worshipping.

The pressure built inside me, coiling tighter and tighter until I could no longer hold back. “I’m... oh God...”

“Let go,” he urged, his voice breaking.

And I did.

The release ripped through me in waves, violent and blinding, my body trembling beneath his as I cried out his name. He followed moments later, his own climax crashing through him, his body tensing and shuddering, before collapsing onto me.

For a long time, we lay tangled, breathing heavily, hearts pounding in sync. His arm wrapped around me possessively, his lips brushing my temple in a tender contradiction to the violence of what had just happened.

Silence stretched, broken only by our breaths. I knew reality would come crashing soon with the weight of what we had done and the consequences waiting in the shadows.

But for now, in this bed, with his body still pressed against mine, I allowed myself to believe in this one impossible moment. That he wanted me. That I was his.

I had now set the pass for my perfect plot against Eric. My next move was to call off the wedding publicly.