Forbidden Seduction [ Forbidden Obsession]

Let go of you…? Do you realise what you’re saying, what you’re accusing me of doing? You’re not a teenager any more, Elena, and if this is some kind of petty attempt to-‘

‘No, I’m not.’ Elena interrupted him furiously. ‘I’m the Trust’s representative here at Haverton and as such it’s my job to protect the Trust’s interests and its investments… If I think that someone, anyone, is trying to cheat the Trust or

misuse its funds, then it’s my job to-‘

‘Your job…?’ Roth laughed savagely. ‘You sound very high-minded for someone who’s slept her way into her “job” via her boss’s bed.’

There was a second’s pause and then a white heat, a zigzag of pure fury and frustrated womanly pride, hit Elena like a bolt of lightning. Immediately she reacted in the only way her outraged female instincts knew, lifting her hand and

slapping Roth’s face in furious rejection of his insult.

Elena didn’t know which of them was the more shocked-she who had delivered the blow or Roth who had received it. For a single beat of time they both stood completely still, staring at one another. She could feel her heart racing, she could see the white, slowly reddening imprint of her hand against Ran’s dark skin and she could see too the vengeful male fury darkening his eyes.

Too late to regret her behaviour, or to turn and run; Roth was still holding onto her arm, and as she tried to pull away he dragged her towards him, his eyes glittering with fevered rage.

Elena knew, even before it happened, just what he was going to do. She was already closing her eyes and whispering helplessly, ‘No,’ as she felt the hard, bruising pressure of his mouth against her own.

To be kissed like this, in fury, in punishment, and with a blind, searing male desire to dominate, was something totally outside all her experience. Her body had no defences against it, no knowledge of how to deal with it. Panic and anger surged through her body. She was no helpless Victorian virgin, she was a modern woman, able to give as good as she got. Fiercely she returned the anger

of Roth’s furious kiss. He was already prising apart her closed lips with his tongue, demanding entry to the intimacy of her mouth, not with the tender touch of a lover but with the forceful pressure of a warrior, a victor. Wildly Elena

tried to evade him, but he was holding onto her too strongly and all her attempts to break free did was to bring her body into even closer contact with his. She still fought to break free, pummelling his chest with her fists and then, when that did no good and there was no longer any space between their bodies for her to do so, angrily raking her nails down his back. Somewhere, deep down, in the murkiest of murky waters of her subconscious, lay the knowledge that this wasn’t just about the insult he had given her, nor her

angry reaction to it; that this explosion of furious emotion this need to reach out and hurt him, to damage and destroy what was left of the love she had once felt for him, had its roots, its being, in something very, very different from mere

insulted female pride.

‘Little vixen,’ she heard Roth muttering thickly against her mouth as he caught hold of her hand. ‘Your elderly lover might need the stimulus of having his back scratched raw when you make love but I certainly don’t.’

Shocked into awareness of what she was doing by his words, Elena went still. Her biss might not be her lover, but that didn’t really matter; it was the impact of what Roth had just said to her that hurt and wounded so badly, the fact that he

was comparing the anger and mutual hatred they were both expressing with an act that, to her, was one which should be highlighted and hallmarked with tenderness and true emotional love. Suddenly all the anger drained out of her.

She felt sickened, not just by Roth’s words but more importantly by what she herself had done. A vixen, Roth had called her, but when animals mated they did

so for a specific purpose; their coming together was never an act of cruelty or cynical disregard for everything that sharing the intimacy of one’s body with another should be.

Elena could feel her eyes starting to fill with tears. Roth had pulled back from her to look at her, and, taking advantage of his slackened grip, she pulled herself free of him and started to walk quickly, if a little unsteadily, towards the library

door.

Startled, Roth called out to her, following her out into the hallway, watching as she disappeared up the stairs. Should he go after her, apologise, explain…? That look he had just seen in her eyes had shocked him. It was more the look of a hurt child than a mature, experienced, worldly woman, and besides… There had been no call for him to make that remark to her about her boss. Her relationship with the

other man was, after all, her own affair, even if he… God… For a moment there the feeling, the sharp dig of her nails into his skin through the fabric of his shirt,

had made him ache so badly for the feel of her naked body beneath his own, the feel, the scent, the taste of her. And if he could have his time again… But what was the point in thinking about, reliving old memories, old mistakes?Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

He had done what he had thought was best at the time, the honourable thing to do…

WEARILY Elena looked at the luminous face of her watch. Half past one in the morning. She had been awake for the last hour, stubbornly courting sleep, angrily refusing to allow her thoughts to take control, to force her to remember.

She was too hyped up for sleep, too afraid to sleep just in case she… She what? Dreamed of Roth?

She looked across at the desk in front of the window. One of the small pleasures of living in the depths of the country was that one did not need to close the curtains at night. There was nothing She liked more than being able to see

the night sky.