My Husband's Affair My Anniversary Gift (Lily and David) novel Chapter 299

Jabco kissed her like he had no control left, like something inside him had finally snapped. He didn’t think. He didn’t plan. He just knew he couldn’t stop himself.

In his entire life, he had never felt this desperate for anything.

Not power. Not success. Not control.

Her.

Riyana froze at first, caught between anger and disbelief. Then her senses rushed back all at once.

What is he doing?

She tried to push him away, pressing her hands against his chest.

“Stop...” she meant to say. She wanted to tell him he couldn’t do this. That he couldn’t force marriage on her. That he couldn’t touch her like this.

But his grip was firm, his body solid against hers, his closeness overwhelming. The warmth of him, the familiarity, the feelings she had buried for years rose up without permission.

Her bag slipped from her shoulder and fell softly to the floor, unnoticed.

She hated herself for it, but her strength drained away. Her resistance faltered. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might break through her ribs.

Her hands moved on their own.

They lifted, fingers sinking into his hair, tangling there as if they had always belonged. The moment her hands touched him, her breath hitched, a quiet sound she couldn’t control.

Inside, she was screaming at herself to stop.

But her body betrayed her completely.

And that scared her more than anything else.

He pulled away from her without warning.

The sudden loss of his lips made Riyana inhale sharply, her breath caught somewhere between relief and disappointment. Before she could steady herself, his mouth brushed past her cheek, stopping near her ear.

“Stop pushing me away,” he said in a low voice, rough and tight, like he was holding something back. “You’re mine. Act like it.”

The words hit her harder than the kiss ever could.

Her body reacted before her mind did. Heat rushed to her face, her ears, her chest. She hated that about herself. Hated how easily her body betrayed her thoughts. She should have been angry.

She was angry. Yet her heart was racing in a way that made no sense.

His hand slid down her thigh, slow but sure, and that small movement shattered whatever fragile balance she had left.

“Jabco…” she whispered, not sure what she was asking for. For him to stop, or for herself to stay standing.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted her up so easily it startled her. A soft gasp left her lips as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms clutching his shoulders as if she might fall otherwise.

The realization of what she was doing struck her all at once.

Her fingers tightened in his shirt, knuckles white. Her face burned with shame and confusion. She buried her face into the side of his neck, pressing her forehead against his skin, trying to hide from him and from herself.

Why am I like this? she thought. Why can’t I stop him?

He held her firmly, his arms locked around her back as he walked up the stairs. Every step felt too steady, too calm, as if her world wasn’t spinning wildly inside her chest.

She knew she should push him away.

She knew she should speak, shout, demand that he put her down. But her body stayed frozen, clinging to him like this was the only safe place left.

Her heart felt restless, torn between fear and something far more dangerous. Excitement.

She hated herself for it.

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