Chapter 62 Shutting Out Intimacy
Bianca twirled a forkful of pasta, the strands heavy with melted cheese, each coil clinging to the silver tines. She chewed without tasting, her mind far from the plate in front of her.
Even when she finally drifted into sleep, the weight of last night lingered. It was a restless night, and she woke earlier than usual, her body stiff, her thoughts unsettled.
Stretching lazily, she sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, fingers raking through the tangle of her hair. Something had to change. She couldn't let things stay as they were.
She could feel Terrence's love for her—real, unshakable—but it came wrapped in caution, in a quiet kind of insecurity. For so long she'd assumed it was mistrust, until last night cracked open a corner of his guarded heart. Only then did she see how much of himself he kept hidden, how careful, almost humble, he was in their relationship.
She loved him. And she hated seeing that.
"Bianca, that's your fifth sigh already. Whatever's bothering you, just tell me. I'll fix it." Jessica's voice came through the phone, bright and curious.
Bianca paused mid-way through her skincare routine. Jessica was more impulsive, more daring than she was. Maybe she'd have an idea.
She spilled the whole story, every detail, expecting sympathy. Instead, Jessica laughed.
"I thought it was something serious. That's easy. Just wait for the delivery."
"Wait—delivery? You're buying—"
The line went dead, replaced by the cold, flat tone of disconnection.
Bianca stared at her phone, shaking her head. She hadn't planned to take Jessica's words to heart. Her focus was on finding a way to ease Terrence's constant fear of losing her.
"Ma'am, there's a package for you." The maid stood at the door, respectful, careful.
After the incidents in Crystal Gardens, no one dared speak to Bianca with anything less than courtesy. Terrence had even replaced the butler with someone loyal and discreet.
Bianca frowned as she took the package inside. She hadn't ordered anything lately. So what was this?
Her hands moved quickly, tearing through the tape. The moment she saw what was inside, heat rushed to her face. She grabbed her phone in a panic.
"Jessica! What did you send me?"
The open box revealed black silk stockings, a pair of cat ears, a tail, and a skimpy lingerie set that left almost nothing to the imagination.
"Lingerie set. Why are you acting shocked? You said he's insecure—seduce him. Make him feel your love, and he won't doubt you again." Jessica's tone was maddeningly matter-of-fact.
"Jessica…" Bianca's voice was tight, trembling at the edges. "You want me to wear that and seduce him?"
"Live a little. I hope you'll use it tonight. I've got to run—bye!"
The call ended before Bianca could protest. She slammed the lid shut on the box and tossed it aside.
She tried to ignore Jessica's suggestion, but the words stuck in her mind like a spell, circling all day.
By evening, she found herself slipping into the outfit Jessica had chosen. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at her reflection, cheeks burning.
The black-and-white fabric clung to her curves, the size just a touch too small. Lace pressed into her skin, leaving faint marks along the swell of her breasts. The skirt was short—dangerously short—offering no cover, only the tease of skin. And the worst of it… the thong, strung with pearls.
Her embarrassment didn't last long. Terrence had come home.
She yanked a robe around herself, gripping the edges tight. The skirt beneath pushed the robe out in odd angles, but she didn't care.
"You're back," she said quickly, eyes downcast.
"Mm." Terrence's reply was quiet, his coat sliding off his shoulders, the chill of the outside air following him in.
He stepped forward. Bianca stepped back, her voice rushed. "You should shower first. You smell like the wind."
He glanced down as if checking, finding nothing unusual in his scent, but he went without question.
Her phone buzzed. Jessica's message lit the screen: [Hope you have a wonderful night.]
Bianca's face flamed. The sound of water in the bathroom only made her pulse race faster.
After what felt like forever, she shed the robe, slid on the cat ears and tail, and perched on the edge of the bed. Waiting. Like a dessert left out for someone to taste.
Ten minutes felt like an hour. Her head bowed, hair falling forward to hide her face. The thud of her heartbeat was loud in the quiet room.
The bathroom door opened. Terrence emerged in a robe, towel in hand. Bianca looked up. Their eyes met, and something in the air shifted. His breath caught, his steps quickened.
His voice was rough, his fingers tracing the line of her waist. "What are you wearing… hm?"
Bianca bit down on her lip, then pulled him toward her, crushing her mouth against his.
They both drew in a sharp breath.
Terrence recovered first, cupping the back of her head, his tongue brushing against her lips with slow, deliberate care.
Heat spread through her, her body turning pliant, her balance slipping until she was straddling him. His hands slid lower, gripping her waist, holding her steady.
His mouth moved down—her neck, her collarbone, the edge of lace against her skin. Cool air brushed her chest before his lips followed, pressing along the fabric, stealing her breath.
The damp ends of his hair grazed her jaw, feather-light, sending shivers through her. Her fingers curled against his back, leaving faint marks.
"Terrence…" The sound escaped her before she could stop it, and her cheeks burned.
His grip tightened, his face buried against her, inhaling the scent of her skin. Desire stirred sharply, pulling at him.
And then… the blanket. He pulled it over her.
Bianca stared, stunned. She shoved it aside, leaning forward deliberately, pressing against the hard line of his body.
His breath hitched, but he pulled the blanket back over her again.
"You're not… incapable, are you?" Her voice was a mix of challenge and disbelief.
He laughed, low and dangerous. "You already know the answer to that."
"Then why—"
She stopped mid-sentence, the words catching in her throat.