DOMINATED THE IN-LAW
"Oh. God, Eli, please! I'm not on the pills," I gasped, my fingers clawing at his shoulders.
"With a pussy as sweet as that?" he growled against my neck. "Jett was the loser. I'm not. I'm gonna fuck this pussy till the end. Afraid you're gonna have my child?"
My head dropped as a shudder ripped through me. "You're crazy!"
His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're mine now. My woman. And I'm gonna fuck you until this pretty body of yours only knows me."
---
Rowanne Steele thought she had it all. A perfect marriage to Jett Carter, heir to the Carter empire, and a future filled with love. But when Jett dies in a tragic car crash, her world shatters. Her mourning days aren't over, still clinging to his memory, drowning in grief and loyalty to the man she thought she knew.
Until one night, a hidden truth rises from his belongings and everything Rowanne believed about her husband was a lie.
Lost and heartbroken, she runs into the only arms that feel safe, Eli Carter, Jett's younger brother.
What begins as a moment of comfort in the rain turns into a mistake neither of them can forget. A mistake that feels far too much like fate.
Rowanne swears it can't happen again. Eli refuses to let go. Whether forbidden or not, he's determined to claim her. And this time, he won't lose.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
ROWANNE'S POV.
He was beautiful. God, dangerously beautiful. Jett was handsome, but Eli. He was different. I remembered the first time I saw him was at my wedding. He was different.
Then the smile faded. His eyes dropped to my hand. I realised what I was doing and jerked back. "Oh. I'm sorry-"
Eli caught my hand, placing it right back where it had been.
"My type?" he said, his voice lowered now, almost like a growl. His gaze trailed from my hand to my lips to the neckline of my dress. My skin burned everywhere his eyes touched.
"Blue eyes. Five foot seven. Smooth skin. Long. Wavy. Sandy blond hair. Red lips. Soft hands..."
My heart stopped. It was almost as if he wasn't describing a type. He was describing me.
I forced a smile. "Quite detailed."
Then I snatched up my glass, downing it too quickly, desperate to drown the heat rising in my chest. But even as the wine slid down my throat, his eyes never left me.
As I looked back at him, he was still staring. That gaze left me breathless with my chest rising and falling too quickly.
"Eli?" My voice cracked, almost a whisper.
His eyes dropped to my lips before finding mine again. "Yes, Ro."
I swallowed, my pulse hammering. And then, almost like a pull, I couldn't resist. I wrapped my hands around his neck, crushing my lips against his.
Shit. No.
He should've pushed me away. He should've reminded me that I was Jett's wife. That I was still in mourning. That this was wrong.
But he didn't.
Instead, his hand slid against my waist, dragging me closer until I was straddling him, my legs clinging to his body. The heat of him bled through his undone shirt, and the scent of wine mixed with his cologne. It was so dizzying.
My gasp was swallowed when his hands climbed my spine, fingers splaying, gripping me tighter, desperate like he had been starving and I was air.
"Eli," I breathed against his mouth, trembling, "this is-"
"Wrong?" he rasped, his forehead pressing against mine, his lips brushing mine again. His blue eyes burned into me.
My heart slammed against my ribs as guilt and desire waged war inside me, but God help me. I didn't move.
His hand cupped the back of my neck, holding me there, like he was afraid I'd vanish if he let go.
I kissed him again. Harder, this time. My tears wet his lips, but he kissed me like he didn't care. Like he'd been waiting for this or for me.
And for one reckless and aching moment, I let myself believe it.
Oh, God. My pussy stung with the ache of want. The heat spread as I got wetter beneath the press of him. It was unbearable. The need to be touched, to be taken, to be used in the most reckless way.
Eli's lips left mine only to trail higher, brushing across my cheek before settling at the shell of my ear. My body shivered at the husk of his breath there and a low groan vibrating from his chest into mine.
His hand slid up until he cupped my breast through the thin fabric of my blouse. My nipples tightened instantly against his palm, aching for more.
His fingers flexed, squeezing.
"Eli-" I gasped, but the word melted into a moan as his mouth moved to my neck. The way his teeth grazed my skin and his lips lingered at the hollow of my throat.
I threw my head back, arching into his touch, into his heat, and surrendering to it. His tongue traced the sensitive curve of my skin, setting fire in every nerve. And then I saw it.
The glint of gold at the edge of my vision. My ring. Jett's ring. The one he had slipped on my finger. The one that should have been sacred.
Goosebumps erupted across my skin, cold and sharp, cutting through the haze of desire. My stomach lurched. What the fuck was I doing?
"Eli. Wait!" My voice cracked as I pushed against his chest, slipping out of his hold. My feet hit the floor almost unsteadily, but I forced myself back, putting space between us. His gaze stayed on me so damned searing as if they demanded answers I didn't have.
"I-" I licked my lips, eyes darting anywhere but him. "I... I have to leave." The words stumbled out shaky.
I snatched my bag and phone from the table with my shaky hands. I didn't dare glance back, because I knew if I did, I'd fold, and the next step would be his bedroom.
"Thank you for the wine," I forced out, my voice brittle, foreign even to me. And then I walked fast, though my legs almost betrayed me, heavy with everything I was leaving behind.
"Ro," His voice followed me.
I didn't look back. My focus was on the door, the only salvation I had left. My pulse hammered so hard it hurt as I yanked it open and slipped out, shutting it behind me like a shield.
"Wait, Rowanne."
Hearing my full name in his mouth almost undid me. My heart clenched and my lungs stilled but I kept moving.
I rushed down the hall, my heels striking against the floor, the sound too loud in the silence. The elevator loomed ahead like a lifeline. I pressed the button with trembling fingers as my breath ragged. When the doors slid open, I nearly fell inside.
I froze. But then, I heard him. The door to his apartment opened behind me.
My body jolted, panic and longing collided. I stabbed the button again, watching the doors inch closed, achingly slow.
And then my gaze locked on his as Eli was walking toward me with each step burning straight through me. My chest rose and fell with the steps he took.
And then the doors sealed shut.
I exhaled, a heavy and shaking breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. My knees nearly buckled, my heart slamming like I had escaped something dangerous. When in truth, a part of me had wanted to be caught.
Two days later.
"Mrs Carter, your mother-in-law is around."
The sound of Nana's voice pulled me back to reality, shattering what I had been wrapped in. My fork clattered against the plate.
"What?" My throat went dry. "My mother-in-law? What is she doing here?"
Nana's expression shifted uneasily, and her lips parted as if to explain, but nothing came out. That damned silence made my stomach twist.
I pushed back from the dining table, my pulse quickening. The only reason my body jolted with panic was Eli. My mind leapt back to that night, to his hands on me and my heart thrashed. Did he tell her?
The thought speared through me as I rose to my feet to see Jennifer Carter, Jett and Eli's mother.
Facing her now felt like standing on the edge of a sinkhole, like she could see my sins before I even spoke.
I tried to breathe, but my chest was too tight. Did I regret it? No. That wasn't what haunted me. I wasn't drowning in regret. Because when I thought of Eli's mouth on mine, the heat of his body against me. I didn't feel sorry.
And that terrified me.
Because it was wrong. So wrong that the memory made my chest clench every time it flickered behind my eyes. Wrong, because the moment I spotted Jennifer Carter in my living room, I thought of him.
Was that some kind of test? A line I shouldn't cross and almost did, but I didn't?
We hadn't made love. I had stopped it. I had pulled away before we went too far. That was supposed to be enough to save me. Right?
Jennifer turned at the sound of my footsteps. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening from tears. Her composure frayed as soon as she saw me. She moved quickly until she was clutching my hands like a lifeline.
"Oh, Rowanne," she whispered, her voice breaking as her other hand cupped my face and her thumb brushing along my cheek. "You didn't have to go through any of this."
I froze, my breath catching as confusion clawed up my throat. "Any of... what?"
Her tears split freely now. Her grip was trembling as she pulled back slightly, freeing one of my hands. She wiped at her cheeks, drawing in a shaking breath before she forced the words out.
"They are saying-" her voice cracked with disbelief. "The police say Jett's death wasn't a... wasn't a casual accident."
My stomach dropped, the floor tilting beneath me.
Jennifer's lips trembled, her eyes searching mine. And then she gave a long pause before her mouth parted again.
"It was murder." Her voice was a hollow whisper. "Someone murdered my son. Your husband."
You may also like
7.4
I single-handedly saved my family's corporate empire from a hostile takeover, securing our market share for the next decade.
But my grandfather didn't see me as a hero. He saw me as a flawed piece of inventory.
To calm the board and fix the reputation I supposedly ruined, he forced me into an arranged marriage, auctioning me off to the highest bidder.
Desperate, I turned to my childhood friend, Egnacio, the only person who ever promised to protect me.
But instead of saving me, he publicly humiliated me. He used my desperation as a networking opportunity, pitching my arranged marriage as a business deal to a ruthless private equity king named Dexter Mathews.
Later that night, I caught Egnacio holding my cruel cousin in his arms.
"What man wants to be with a woman who looks at you like she's planning a hostile takeover?"
Hearing him mock my pain shattered the last bit of hope I had.
I realized I was never family to them. I was just a sharp knife, used to cut down their enemies and then traded for cash before I got dull.
The heartbreak vanished, replaced by a cold, violent rage.
I didn't break, and I didn't run.
Instead, I got into the back of Dexter Mathews's car. He had watched my family tear me apart, but he didn't see a broken pawn. He saw a queen.
And together, we were going to burn their entire empire to the ground.
7.5
On the morning of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I found a cream-colored document tucked inside my husband's suit pocket.
It was a twenty-million-dollar asset transfer for his former receptionist, Carmen. But what made my blood run cold was the contingent beneficiary: Leo, my newborn son who the hospital claimed was kidnapped twenty-three years ago.
When I confronted Devonte, he didn't even try to explain. He handed me a fake Cartier watch, canceled all my credit cards, and publicly called me delusional.
The next day, he moved Carmen into our mansion and emptied all our joint accounts into offshore trusts.
"If you don't sign these papers and walk away, I will have you committed," he threatened, his mother nodding in agreement.
They had orchestrated the kidnapping of my baby, hiding him with the mistress while I spent half my life sedated and screaming in grief. Now, to keep his secret, Devonte was going to lock me in a psychiatric ward and bury me in debt.
I didn't understand how the man I loved could be such a monster. Why did he steal my child? What else was hidden in that confidential adoption file?
Pushed to the absolute brink, I refused to be his victim.
When his goons came to my temporary apartment to drag me away, I turned to the rugged union electrician who had just fixed my lights.
"If you need a husband to keep you out of a psych ward, I'll marry you," he said, offering himself as my legal shield.
I took his hand. It was time to tear my husband's perfect life apart.
7.2
Blaire woke up in a Manhattan penthouse, her body covered in bruises and her innocence stolen.
Before she could process the terror, her adoptive sister Danita burst in, acting heartbroken and accusing Blaire of shamelessly seducing the powerful Kamryn Lane. Kamryn threw a one-million-dollar check at Blaire's bleeding face, calling her a calculating gold digger.
That night, Blaire overheard a conversation in the family study that shattered her entire reality.
"Once she gives birth to the Lane family's seed, we'll stage an accident, drain her blood, and transplant her healthy heart into your chest."
Her adoptive mother and Danita were celebrating the success of their trap. She wasn't an adopted daughter; she was a living organ bank and a disposable surrogate. Even her adoptive brother, Calhoun, knew everything, trapping her in the dark hallways with a sick, possessive obsession to ensure she never escaped.
The horrific truth suffocated her. The family that had taken her in had raised her like livestock for slaughter. How could they smile at her every day while planning to carve out her heart?
Terrified but burning with a desperate will to survive, Blaire swallowed a Plan B pill to ruin their surrogate plot and fled the estate. To get the money and power she needed to crush her adoptive family, she pulled out Kamryn Lane's business card. This time, she would make a deal with the devil.
9.5
Elsie was the Sutton family's perfect puppet, a sickly heiress locked away in a pristine manor and treated like fragile porcelain. Her only purpose was to be a pawn in her mother's corporate games.
Without warning, her mother ordered her to marry Duke Blake, a ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire known for destroying his rivals. Worse, her mother immediately handed over total control of Elsie's life to him, declaring she couldn't even step outside the gates without his explicit permission.
Desperate, Elsie met him and asked if she would be expected to perform wifely duties, praying for a marriage in name only.
"I have a very high sex drive."
He stated it bluntly, shattering her illusions. Yet, when he drove her into the city days later, a sudden swerve sent her tumbling directly into his lap. Instead of the desire he claimed to possess, his body went completely rigid. He violently shoved her away, slamming her hard against the passenger seat. His face was pale, his knuckles white, and he stared straight ahead with a look of absolute, terrifying revulsion.
Humiliation and sharp pain coiled in her chest. She couldn't understand. Why did he demand absolute control over her and boast about his desires, only to treat her accidental touch like a repulsive disease? Why did this all-powerful man secretly smell of hospital antiseptics? What exactly was the Sutton family forcing her to marry?
But she was no longer willing to be a lamb led to the slaughter. Thinking of the provocative black lace hidden behind her wardrobe's false wall, Elsie smiled coldly. She was going to find the fatal flaw in this ruthless billionaire's code, and use it to completely shatter her cage.
8.9
For seven years, I hid my MIT Ph.D. and my identity as a top haute couture designer to be the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Cornelius Lambert.
But on our anniversary, while I waited at home with a cold dinner, I found him at a Michelin restaurant with his childhood sweetheart, Halle.
My seven-year-old son sat between them, laughing loudly.
"Mom is too boring. I wish Aunt Halle was my real mom."
Cornelius didn't defend me. He just smiled and affectionately ruffled the boy's hair.
When I finally packed my bags and left, I accidentally triggered an old AI robot prototype Cornelius had given me years ago.
A hidden recording played his voice from the very night he proposed.
"Why marry her? Because she's easy to control. Halle doesn't want to settle down yet, so Cassidy is just a perfect, temporary shield."
Later, when I caught them being intimate in a dark parking garage and snapped a photo, Cornelius watched with cold, dead eyes as his massive bodyguard shoved me against a concrete pillar.
My arm was torn open, blood dripping onto the floor, as they forced me to delete the evidence of his affair.
For seven years, I filed down every sharp edge of my brilliance for a man who saw me as nothing but a pathetic, disposable placeholder.
My heart turned to absolute ice. He thought I was just a weak, powerless housewife.
But he forgot who he was dealing with.
As his luxury car drove away, I pulled up the hidden command terminal on my phone and recovered the encrypted cloud backup of the photos.
I looked at my lawyer with a bleeding arm and a cold smile.
"Let's go. Now, we have a weapon."
9.3
After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground.