His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 342

That single sentence entirely obliterated Archer's last shred of sanity.

He roughly cupped the back of her head and crashed his lips onto hers in a punishing kiss, stripping away any trace of tenderness.

He pried her teeth apart, driving deep and greedily plundering the oxygen from her lungs.

His other large hand slid up her waistline, forcefully kneading her soft curves through the thin silk of her nightgown.

He was claiming dominance, using his raw physical power to force her into submission.

But Virginia didn't give him what he wanted.

She neither responded nor struggled, simply letting him take what he wanted.

It wasn't until the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue that Archer abruptly tore himself away.

Panting heavily, he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes swirling with agonizing conflict and pain.

"Say something," he demanded, his gaze dark and predatory as his rough thumb traced her ravished, swollen lips. "Just tell me you have nothing to do with him, and I'll believe you."

Virginia turned her head, dodging his touch.

She offered no explanation, nor did she have any intention of soothing his ego.

Archer froze. He stared at her in dead silence for a full thirty seconds before wordlessly pushing himself off the bed. He turned and stormed out of the bedroom.

With a deafening crash, the door slammed shut.

Lying on the bed, Virginia closed her eyes, forcefully swallowing down the burning lump in her throat.

...

Archer didn't return to the South Hill villa for three consecutive days.

The summer heat in the city was stifling; even as evening approached, a suffocating wave of heat lingered in the air.

The living room air conditioning was set to a perfectly comfortable temperature. Cindy was lying on the cashmere rug, playing with her building blocks. Halfway through a structure, she suddenly tilted her little face up to look at Virginia.

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