"Better than you!" she shot back.
"Say that again!"
Tristan Sterling was seething, his handsome face dark and terrifying.
Enraged by the man's arrogant tyranny, Holly Sinclair couldn't think straight and blurted out, "He is better than you—mmph..."
A kiss.
It swept over her like a tempest.
The enraged man's kiss was rough and fierce, completely devoid of tenderness.
Holly Sinclair struggled with all her might, but she couldn't move him an inch.
It only made his assault more savage.
She wanted to bite him out of sheer hatred.
But he was cunning, toying with her playfully as if she were a cat.
He didn't stop until she was on the verge of suffocation.
"Who's better? Hmm?"
His scorching breath fanned the skin behind her ear, sending a tantalizing shiver through her.
Holly Sinclair shuddered violently, unable to control herself.
And the more her body betrayed her, the more she seethed with hatred.
Her eyes were bloodshot. "Anyone is better than you—"
