Chapter 235: Chapter 235: The Happiness of Being Cherished
Wren Sutton’s face flushed with embarrassment. "That’s not what I meant."
Adrian Lancaster’s gaze darkened as he leaned in closer. "Then what did you mean, hmm?"
Wren Sutton was pinned with nowhere to retreat. "I just meant well. I wanted you to get some rest."
Adrian Lancaster smiled. "But I’m full of energy right now. I’m not tired at all."
Wren Sutton: "..."
"So, I’m going to do something fun. And I’ll need your cooperation."
After saying this, Adrian Lancaster’s gaze slowly drifted downward. His eyes fell on an expanse of fair skin, which exuded a faint, elegant fragrance.
"Your scent is intoxicating."
Wren Sutton’s heart raced. Under the man’s intensely aggressive gaze, her fingertips curled, gripping the sheets beneath her.
’She knew there was no escaping tonight.’
’In fact, she could never escape, except for the week of her period.’
"We shouldn’t waste any time."
With those words, Adrian Lancaster’s scorching lips came down. It wasn’t a tentative probe, but a direct and deep kiss that claimed Wren Sutton, full of an irresistible possessiveness.
His tongue chased and tangled with hers, its force almost greedy.
He loved the feel of her lips, unable to get enough.
"..."
Wren Sutton felt dizzy from the sudden, fervent assault. Her mind went blank, and she could only accept it passively.
Then, instinctively, she began to respond with clumsy inexperience.
Her response was like a spark, igniting all of Adrian Lancaster’s passion.
He kissed her with even greater abandon.
Adrian Lancaster’s hand, searing hot, caressed Wren Sutton’s cheek as he gazed at her tenderly.
Wren Sutton felt the change in Adrian Lancaster’s body—the taut lines of his muscles, the undeniable heat radiating through their clothing.
Shyness and a secret sense of anticipation intertwined, overwhelming her.
Adrian Lancaster pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were bottomlessly deep, burning with the familiar, almost feral flame she knew so well. His gaze was locked on her own misty, unfocused eyes.
"Darling," Adrian Lancaster murmured, "are you ready?"
Wren Sutton gave him a coquettish look, too shy to answer, but her body’s instinctive reaction had already said it all.
’She wondered if all men were like this, or if it was just Adrian Lancaster—asking questions he already knew the answer to in such intimate moments.’
Adrian Lancaster held Wren Sutton tighter.
"Darling, I love you."
"I love you too."
"Let’s be together forever. Let’s never be apart, not even for a day."
"You have to mean it. Don’t lie to me."
"I promise."
Adrian Lancaster’s kisses traveled along Wren Sutton’s jaw, all the way to behind her ear.
The temperature in the room began to climb.
Their body heat seared against each other, their heartbeats intertwining in resonance.
"Look at me." Adrian Lancaster’s voice was impossibly hoarse, holding an irresistible allure.
Wren Sutton opened her glistening eyes and gazed into the depths of his, which burned with fierce flames.
"Adrian Lancaster."
"I’m here. Hold me tight."
After that, Adrian Lancaster let his actions speak louder than words.
The primal passion that erupted from him was so intense that Wren Sutton could barely withstand it.
At this moment, he was no longer the calm, self-possessed, and aloof President Lancaster of the daytime, but a man dominated by desire and love.
With a madness that bordered on religious fervor, he led Wren Sutton with him to a trembling, cloud-like peak of ecstasy.
...
In her dream, Adrian Lancaster’s features were gentle, his smile genuine. The way he looked at Wren Sutton held undisguised love and focus.
He would rejoice at a single one of her smiles, grow anxious over her slightest discomfort, silently commit all her likes and dislikes to memory, and appear by her side the very moment she needed him.
In her sleep, Wren Sutton unconsciously curled into a ball, yet the corners of her mouth turned up in a tiny, peaceful arc.
’So, all that kindness, all those moments of being cherished and answered, they weren’t just her wishful thinking after all.’
Those beautiful moments had been real. Like seeds, they were once buried deep in their hearts, coalescing into a searing flutter over their chests.
Wren Sutton felt herself sinking into a boundless, warm ocean, every nerve ending caressed by the gentle surge of the waves.
The blissful feeling of being cherished was so real—it pressed down heavily on her chest, yet also lifted her up lightly, as if she were lying on a cottony cloud.
Her consciousness hovered on the edge of waking.
Wren Sutton’s eyelashes trembled. She did not wake, nor did she want to, as her entire being sank once more into that cherished darkness.
