Twin Cupids at Work Daddy Come Home novel Chapter 752

She instantly held her breath.

The scent was intensely unnatural, radiating straight from Lincoln's clothes.

Using every ounce of her strength, Madeline broke his grip and scrambled backward, her eyes flashing with pure defensive instinct.

Lincoln opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden, unbearable heat flared in his chest. His throat went bone-dry. The alcohol he'd been downing all night mixed with the rapidly accelerating aphrodisiac, flooding his veins with reckless desire.

He grabbed her arm again, pulling her close. "Go ahead, try to run," he sneered. "Tell me, how am I any worse than Julian? Huh?"

"Let me go." Madeline yanked her arm free.

She couldn't stay in this room. The fumes were already making her head spin. She had to get out.

Lincoln's gaze crawled over her, dark and predatory.

Even glaring at him with naked fury, her flawless features were dangerously intoxicating.

The chemical fire in his blood burned away all reason. He wanted to take her right there on the carpet.

His throat worked nervously as he stalked her across the room. "What's so great about Julian anyway? Stick with me. I'll show you a much better time."

Madeline backed toward the window, desperately trying to crack it open. If she breathed in any more of this drug, she was done for.

But he cornered her before she could undo the latch. "What? Gonna jump?"

"Back off."

"Stop fighting me. Just give in. We're both going to enjoy this."

A suffocating wave of disgust washed over her.

Lincoln panted heavily, his bloodshot eyes tracing the curves of her face. Seeing her absolute revulsion only fueled his twisted need to dominate her.

She thought he was sickening? Fine. He was going to make sure she never forgot him.

"Disgusted? Too bad. You're mine tonight."

He lunged, trying to crush his mouth against hers.

The sheer disparity in their physical strength was overwhelming, made all the more terrifying by the drug-fueled adrenaline coursing through him. Madeline clenched her jaw, swung her arm back, and delivered a brutal slap across his cheek.

His head snapped to the side. For a fraction of a second, he froze, then he came back twice as vicious, digging his fingers brutally into her shoulders.

The cloying floral scent thickened in the air. Madeline's mouth went completely dry as a dizzying heat pooled in her own stomach.

She couldn't break his hold. The door was too far away. Desperate, Madeline snatched a heavy ceramic ornament off a nearby console and hurled it onto the floor.

It shattered with a muted thud against the thick rug. The suite's soundproofing was excellent; she could only pray the noise carried downstairs.

The crash made Lincoln flinch. He glanced nervously at the door, silently thanking himself for locking it.

"Keep throwing things," he taunted. "No one's coming."

Madeline turned into a tornado, grabbing glass vases, porcelain trays, lamps, framed photos, and smashing them against the walls. The impacts echoed like gunshots.

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