Game Over, Mr. CEO: Your Wife Is Done (Winter and Chris) novel Chapter 351

Chapter 351

The moon slipped behind the clouds.

The room fell into darkness.

Chris’s arms tightened around her, pulling her close. He buried his face against her neck, his lips brushing lightly over the pulse at her throat.

It was so soft she didn’t feel it in her sleep.

She had showered before bed. The walk-in closet only had silk nightgowns. The size fit her perfectly. The length, too.

But with the way he held her, the thin straps had slipped off her shoulders and fallen down her arms.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he lifted his head from her neck. A faint, intoxicating scent drifted into his senses.

He lowered his head again, his nose grazing something impossibly soft.

As she shifted unconsciously in her sleep, that softness brushed against his lips.

The restraint he had held onto all day snapped in an instant.

The sleep oil worked too well.

Winter slept deeply.

In her dreams, she sometimes felt like she was drowning, unable to breathe. Other times, she felt wrapped in warmth, like leaning against a heater.

When she finally woke, she shifted her sore right hand and sat up.

The curtains were drawn tight. Not a sliver of light came through.

But the sitting area was lit. Soft light filtered through a screen, dim enough not to disturb her sleep, yet enough to keep the room from feeling completely dark.

She had no idea what time it was.

Out of habit, she turned to look for her phone, then remembered she hadn’t brought it.

She was alone.

She got out of bed, her feet touching the floor. The hem of her nightgown slid down from her thighs to her calves.

She walked over and pulled open the floor-to-ceiling curtains.

Bright sunlight flooded in.

She instinctively shut her eyes and stepped back. When they adjusted, she realized the sun was already high overhead.

It was noon.

The lock had been undone.

On this island, who else could have entered her room?

Then she saw it in the bathroom trash.

The pale pink nightgown lay there, one strap torn.

A surge of anger rose in her chest.

Though her experiences with Chris were few, she was no longer an innocent girl. Her body felt fine, which meant he hadn’t actually forced himself on her while she slept. Besides, if he had gone that far, surely she would have woken up?

She picked up the discarded nightgown. The unmistakable scent of semen hit her, and a flush of humiliated rage climbed from her cheeks to her ears and down her neck.

She dropped it immediately, disbelief flashing in her eyes as she flexed her sore right hand.

He had actually done that while she was asleep.

In the silence, the faint click of a door closing was unmistakable, followed by approaching footsteps

She grabbed the nightgown from the trash, turned, and strode to the bathroom doorway.

Then she hurled it straight at him.