You Scorned My Love, So Why Are You Kneeling When I Asked for a Divorce?

It was so unbearable that she frantically tore at her clothes.

The sight was pure temptation.

Tristan Sterling fought back the turmoil in his heart. He wrapped her tightly in his suit jacket, lifted her in his arms, and got out of the car.

He strode quickly toward the front door.

He opened the door and went inside.

Holly Sinclair, like a restless kitten, nuzzled her scorching face into the crook of his neck.

She ignited a wicked fire within him.

But she wasn’t satisfied. Her fiery lips traveled up his neck until they found his.

His lips were slightly cool.

She was like a fish stranded in the desert that had suddenly found water, and she kissed him with desperate urgency.

Tristan Sterling could bear it no longer.

He went upstairs and into the bedroom.

He carried her as they both tumbled onto the soft, large bed.

A wildfire ignited, and it was impossible to contain.

...

Holly Sinclair lost count of how many times she cried.

Though her body was pushed to its absolute limit, her heart still yearned for more.

At one point, Holly Sinclair had a moment of clarity. She saw the small alarm clock on the nightstand; the hour hand was pointing to nine.

The curtains were drawn tight, and she couldn’t tell if it was day or night.

She drifted through a stupor, rising and falling.

One round ended, only to be immediately followed by another.

It was a frenzy unlike any other.

Finally, unable to take any more, she fell into a deep sleep.

When Holly Sinclair next awoke, two days had passed.

The first thing she felt upon regaining consciousness was an ache all over her body.

It felt as if her limbs had been torn off and reattached, a pain so intense it made her scalp tingle.

The second thing she felt was hunger.

She was so famished she felt like she could eat a whole cow.

Her gaze shifted idly, and then she froze.

A chill spread from the depths of her heart.

As if she’d been plunged into an ice cave.

Holly Sinclair stared in shock at Tristan Sterling, who was still fast asleep.

Fragments of lost memories flooded her mind.

She remembered!

She remembered how Philip Payne had nearly assaulted her.

She remembered how Tristan Sterling had believed Vivian Linton’s deceitful excuses and let Philip Payne take all the blame.

She remembered encountering a drunk, and then being taken away by Tristan Sterling.

She remembered throwing herself at him, clinging to him...

"Awake?"

The man’s lazy, magnetic voice pulled her wandering thoughts back to the present.

SLAP!

Holly Sinclair sat up and slapped Tristan Sterling across the face.

Tristan Sterling was stunned for a moment.

Holly Sinclair wanted to strike him again.

But he caught her hand in mid-air.

"Are you crazy?"

He gripped her wrist, slowly sitting up as he frowned at her.

His voice was raspy and sexy, thick with sleep.

It was the deep, resonant voice she had once loved most, a voice that had never failed to stir her heart.

But now, Holly Sinclair found it utterly disgusting.

"Tristan Sterling, you’re shameless!"

She seethed, her bloodshot eyes blazing with hatred as her body trembled with rage.

Tristan Sterling had expected her to be angry.

’He was prepared for it, so he calmly reached out, intending to pull her into his arms and soothe her. ’Holly—’

"You’re disgusting!" she roared, shoving him away violently.

The man’s eyes darkened.

’He wanted to talk things through with her, to even try to build a good life with her from now on.’

’But that didn’t mean she could be this unreasonable, nor did it mean she could show her disgust for him at every turn.’

The word "disgusting" greatly displeased Tristan Sterling.

’He had lived for nearly thirty years, and no one had ever dared to speak to him that way.’

"Lost your memory?"

He gripped her wrist and pulled her in front of him, his cool breath ghosting over her lips.

Holly Sinclair stiffened, her face turning white as a sheet.

’She knew what he meant.’

’He was reminding her that she had initiated everything that happened.’

’Yes, she had been the one to start it.’

’It wasn’t what she truly wanted, but it was an undeniable fact!’

"You took advantage of me! You’re despicable!" she spat, twisting her wrist to break free, her face filled with contempt.

Tristan Sterling let out a humorless laugh.

Suddenly, he pushed her down, pinning her beneath him. His dark eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can’t seem to remember any of my good qualities now, can you?"

’When she loved him, she saw nothing but his good qualities.’

’She’d follow him around, doting on him, meticulously tending to his every need.’

’She was impossible to get rid of.’

’And now that she wants a divorce, he’s suddenly "shameless and despicable," full of nothing but flaws?’

’Who gave her permission to be so fickle?!’

"Your ’good qualities’? Hah."

As if she had just heard the funniest joke of the century, Holly Sinclair let out an irrepressible, cold laugh.

’Ever since Vivian Linton came back, when had he ever been "good" to her?’

’He’d mindlessly sided with Vivian Linton, letting her slander and frame her time and time again. If that was what he called "good," then she wanted no part of it!’

But Holly Sinclair no longer wanted to voice these grievances.

’Complaining to a man who doesn’t love you only earns you mockery and pain.’

’She’d just have to chalk this one up to bad luck!’

’It was just one night. No big deal.’

’It’s not like they hadn’t slept together during their two-year marriage.’

’She would just tell herself she’d been screwed by a pig.’

With that thought, Holly Sinclair suddenly shoved the man off of her.

She quickly wrapped a blanket around herself and prepared to get out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing her.

"Get off me!" she yelled, batting his hand away.

But a domineering man like him wasn’t about to let her go so easily.

Holly Sinclair had just picked up her clothes from the floor when Tristan Sterling snatched them from her grasp.

With a casual toss,

her black bra landed in a graceful arc on the nearby sofa.

"Decided you don’t know me now that you’ve had your fun?"

He embraced her from behind, his warm breath tickling the shell of her ear as he spoke.

His words were ambiguous, his breath tantalizing.

Holly Sinclair couldn’t help but shiver.

She pressed her lips together tightly, saying nothing.

"What? Not going to take responsibility?" he murmured, nibbling her ear. His reproachful tone was half-joking, half-serious.

"What?" She thought she must have misheard him.

’Take responsibility?’

’She’d seen shameless people before, but never anyone as shameless as him.’

’Playing the victim after getting exactly what he wanted!!’

"Mrs. Sterling, just look at the state I’m in..."

He turned her around to face him, forcing her to see the incriminating marks on his body. "You have to take responsibility."

Before Holly Sinclair could look away, her gaze fell upon his chest and neck.

They were everywhere—a shocking sight.

She remembered making some of them.

Marks she’d left on him in retaliation when the pleasure was too much to bear.

Though she fought to suppress them, the frantic images flooded her mind like a tidal wave.

The corners of Holly Sinclair’s eyes reddened as a film of moisture quickly veiled them.

She was overwhelmed with shame and indignation.

’But on what grounds could he demand she take responsibility?’

’In this whole affair, she was clearly the victim!’

Gritting her teeth, Holly Sinclair shoved the man away and, with a frosty expression, snatched up her purse.

Without a word, she pulled two hundred-dollar bills from her purse and slapped them against his face.

Tristan Sterling...

Her action was so sudden that he was momentarily stunned.

The two bills fluttered down from his face, finally landing on the carpet.

The warmth on Tristan Sterling’s face instantly turned to ice.

He looked at the money on the floor, then raised his eyes to her.

"What is this supposed to mean?" he asked, one eyebrow raised, his tone as cold as ice.

"That’s all you’re worth!"

She took a step back, gestured toward the two hundred dollars with her chin, and met his gaze fearlessly.

’Holly Sinclair was treating this with a cynical detachment.’

’It was a game for adults, and she could afford to play.’

’She’d just treat it as if she’d paid for a gigolo.’

"Holly Sinclair, what do you take me for?" Tristan Sterling snarled, his dark eyes narrowed, the words forced from between his teeth.

’A gigolo?’

’And such a cheap one at that!’