Chapter 89 Don't Clamp So Tight
The faucet was running, the sound of water drowning out our rapid breathing and soft murmurs.
Lucas pressed me against the sink, positioning me with my back arched and bottom pushed out.
He hurriedly pulled down my pants, not completely removing them—they got stuck above my knees. Then his hand reached between my legs.
His fingers were too cold. I instinctively resisted, "Get out!"
"Don't clench so tight!" Lucas said through gritted teeth. He moved his fingers a couple more times. The handcuffs that had been hooked on the faucet came loose somehow. He slapped my bottom twice, "Relax!"
I kicked back at him, "Too cold! Get your hand out!"
"Got it." Lucas withdrew his hand, took a deep breath, and replaced it with something warmer and thicker than his fingers.
I almost hit the mirror in front of me. I moaned, couldn't help wondering if I'd been affected by the aphrodisiac too—otherwise, why would I let Lucas do this?
We were like two flames, completely ignited. But I hadn't lost my mind yet. I heard Alfred's anxious voice outside the door.
I was about to respond when Lucas covered my mouth. He thrust hard twice and hoarsely ordered Alfred, "Stay back, everyone out!"
I knew everyone outside must know what we were doing!
Just a door, a thin wall between us and so many people outside, including my subordinates.
My eyes reddened a bit. Lucas slowed down, leaned over to hold me, stroking my body and kissing me soothingly.
Alfred and Cole both left the room. Lucas carried me out and threw me onto the big bed.
He pulled the covers over me and crawled in himself, pulling my spread legs around his waist. After moving slowly a few times, he became urgent and intense again.
"She drugged me with an aphrodisiac. She wanted to sleep with me, but I remembered," Lucas pressed against my lips, his tongue tangling with mine, frantically stealing the breath from my mouth.
He said, "You told me if I touched someone else, I couldn't touch you anymore."
The trembling and pleasure made it hard for me to hear what he was saying.
Our bodies pressed tightly together, our heartbeats gradually syncing up—impossible to tell whose rhythm was more chaotic.
Around six in the morning, I woke up in Lucas's arms without having slept deeply.
The aphrodisiac's effect on him had worn off. Lucas was sleeping soundly, satisfied and relaxed.
But I really wanted to punch him. Sleeping so peacefully—did he even consider how I felt?
But when I raised my hand, I saw two handprints on his face in the dim light.
I'd slapped him last night. Thanks to the cold water afterward, his face hadn't swollen, but the marks were obvious.
Forget it, I thought.
I'd slapped this face several times already. No fun in it anymore.
I pushed away Lucas's arm that was draped over me. He frowned and mumbled. The blanket slipped slightly, revealing several new scars on his body.
My gaze lingered on those scars for a few seconds, a complex emotion rising in my chest.
After a moment, I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.
The bathroom was a mess. I wasn't in the mood to clean up the "battlefield." I quickly took a hot shower, got dressed, and prepared to leave.
Before leaving, I was still annoyed. I took out a lipstick from my bag and scribbled all over Lucas's face and body—wrote curse words and drew an angry middle finger on his abs.
Then I took a few photos and quickly left.
On the way back to the resort, Cole and Adrian told me that last night reporters had burst into room 1508. They started taking photos frantically as soon as they entered, then discovered only Amelia was there, not Lucas.
Although these reporters were invited by Amelia, their relationship with her was average. The more ethical ones immediately planned to leave, while those with lower moral standards wanted to stay.
Whether they stayed to take photos or had other intentions toward the unconscious Amelia, only they knew.
The hotel manager, probably concerned about that Diana and worried that something might happen to Amelia at the hotel, stepped in to drive the reporters away.
Adrian said, "After we handed those hostages over to the first and second squads last night, they immediately separated all the hostages and sent them to different locations. Some stopped somewhere to kill time, others drove around the city. Colin sent dozens of people to track them down, but their efficiency was way slower than ours."
Adrian mocked them a bit, then continued, "Michelle really did kneel all night. Even if she didn't want to, the others wouldn't let her get up. Plus, we kept our promise and randomly released one hostage every half hour, so the Gambino family people didn't dare let Michelle stand up. After the last hostage was released, Michelle passed out and was sent to the hospital."
"Good." I nodded. This was all within my expectations.
Back at the resort, I didn't see my brothers. I went straight to my room to catch up on sleep and slept until eleven in the morning.
When I woke up, the sun was bright. I walked into the bathroom with messy hair.
In the mirror, kiss marks near my collarbone peeked out from my loose collar, asserting their presence. I could almost still feel Lucas's lips on my skin—the sensation of rubbing, nibbling, and sucking.
After washing up, I walked out of my room. Adrian stood at the door, holding a gift box. "This is from Jonas, a New Year's gift for you."
I'd almost forgotten about Jonas.
Thinking about how I'd left him on the side of the road, this gift suddenly felt awkward to accept.
"Where is he?" I remembered Jonas was also staying at this resort. He didn't deliver the gift himself—was he mad at me?
Adrian replied, "Jonas said he had something to do and went back to Starstream City."
I nodded. That was probably for the best. I hadn't figured out how to face Jonas yet.
At lunch, my three brothers didn't comment on me rescuing Lucas. They collectively ignored it and only discussed the Gambino family's reaction.
Gale praised me concisely, "Well done."
Brian said with concern, "A bit impulsive, a bit risky, but the opportunity was rare. Good thing you weren't hurt."
Marcus was very happy, "I wish I could've seen the Gambino family's misfortune in person. Michelle knelt all night—heard she lost all feeling below her knees. Serves her right!"
After lunch, following a brief rest, Marcus and I went to inspect a property that once belonged to the Sorelli family. Gale and Brian went to check out a few other places.
The car left the resort and drove along the coastal road, palm trees swaying in the wind on both sides.
Just as we rounded a bend, four black SUVs suddenly burst out from the roadside bushes and blocked our path.
Cole had to brake hard. The two cars following us also stopped abruptly, tires screeching against the pavement.
"Damn it! Who are these people!" Marcus cursed but didn't impulsively get out of the car. He cautiously observed them.
I pulled out my gun. A dozen burly men in black got out of the SUVs across from us, all heavily built and armed, quickly surrounding us.
The man in the lead walked to the car window and said in a firm tone, "Isabella, my boss would like to invite you for afternoon tea. Please come with us."