The Wrong Woman

Imogen found herself completely lost in Jasper's deep, commanding kiss, unable to pull away.

She didn't know when she had started to give in, but his kiss made her lose control and her body responded in ways she couldn't comprehend.

His dominant presence left her weak. She melted in his arms. Under the intensity of his kiss, she felt light-headed, her mind going blank.

Jasper's lips and tongue were tantalizing, while his strong chest felt warm against her. His body radiated heat.

Imogen's legs grew weak, and before she knew it, he had guided her out of the kitchen.

Their bedroom was upstairs, but fearing she might regain her senses and push him away, Jasper pressed her onto the living room couch instead.

Disoriented by his kisses, Imogen's breathing became erratic, and her body grew uncomfortably warm.

heightening the heated, intimate atmosphere. He reached for the remote on the coffee table, dimming the lights to

didn't even realize when her clothes had been removed or how quickly things had escalated. She was utterly lost in the moment. It wasn't until a sharp

kiss, pounding her fists weakly against his chest. "Jasper, you bastard...

Imogen," Jasper murmured, his voice pained, but

way he was acting, he felt it necessary to claim her, to sever her thoughts of divorce. He wanted to leave her with no room to escape him. Before, he had avoided touching her, hoping she would fall in

fear, and anger, feeling utterly disrespected. He had claimed her

despised him, a

whispered apologies, yet remained unyielding in his

With her aching legs, she curled up in her bed, silently crying herself

on the couch after putting on his clothes. He stared solemnly

him for this. The realization of it