Chapter 72

Chapter 72

I lowered my head and looked at my hard cock, smiling bitterly to myself.

Then I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed open the balcony door.

The evening breeze of Esmere City carried a hint of coolness that hit my face. The cool air seeped through my pores into my body, actually dispersing quite a bit of that urge inside me.

I pulled out a cigarette from the pack, stuck it in my mouth, lit it, and slowly smoked.

About fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opened with a crisp sound.

I looked down at myself—good, completely calmed down now.

I stubbed out the cigarette, walked into the living room, closed the balcony door behind me, and pulled the curtains shut.

Ella came out of the bathroom wearing loose casual clothes, crouching in front of her suitcase, messing with something.

The heat flushed her cheeks to a rosy pink, making her look like she'd just stepped out of a sauna.

I couldn't help but frown. How does this girl take a shower?

How could she make herself look so... tempting just from a bath?

Even in that totally frumpy outfit, she still got my blood pumping.

I looked away, grabbed the bottled water on the table, twisted off the cap, and gulped down several mouthfuls.

Putting down the bottle, I walked over and lifted Ella straight up from the floor.

Startled by my sudden move, she asked in alarm, "What are you doing now?"

I placed her on the bed, looking at her intensely, and called out, "Ella."

She nervously swallowed and responded softly.

I pressed my tongue against my cheek, then slowly drawled, "Well, if that's off the table... how about just a kiss?"

She looked scared, her eyes instantly widening.

I urged, "Why are you so surprised? I'm asking you a question!"

She nervously asked, "Kiss... where?"

Hearing that, I couldn't help but laugh. If she hadn't asked that, I really wouldn't have thought in that direction.

I deliberately teased her, "What do you think?"

Ella stood there, not daring to speak for a long while.

I grabbed her head and pressed my lips against hers.

This kiss was deep and lingering.

When the kiss ended, I released her and licked my lips.

Ella just stood there like a deer in headlights, completely frozen.

At that moment, I remembered what Daniel had said at the club earlier.

"She's so delicate and soft—can she even handle how rough you are?"

Thinking about this, I felt inexplicably irritated.

"Sweetie," I called her.

Ella was still breathing heavily. "Yeah."

Every time she kissed me, my intensity left her almost breathless.

I looked at her lips, reddened from my kisses, and asked in a low voice, "I'm going to ask you something. Answer me honestly."

She looked at me, her eyes full of confusion.

Honestly, when do I ever give her a heads-up before doing or saying something?

Don't I usually just do what I want and say what I want?

I don't know what's gotten into me today either.

But I know I just want to hear some truth from her mouth.

She nodded obediently, "Okay."

I raised my eyelids, my silver-gray eyes fixed on her, and spoke slowly, "When we have sex, do you enjoy it?"

At those words, her already flushed face turned even redder, and her eyes widened in shock.

Seeing her silence, I gently pinched her soft, delicate chin and kissed her again.

"Answer me." I drew out the words, trying to make my voice sound gentler.

Ella had no choice but to close her eyes and stammer, "It's... it's okay, I guess."

I immediately frowned and repeated, "Okay?"

I felt genuinely deflated.

I shouldn't have expected anything nice from those lips. The stuff that comes out of her mouth? Pure poison.

Ella bit her lower lip, looked into my eyes, and nodded blankly.

"Ella, if you weren't on your period, I'd show you what a real orgasm feels like," I threatened.

Her breathing hitched, and she didn't dare make another sound.

I released her, got up from the bed, and headed to the bathroom.

Walking into the bathroom, I turned on the shower. Steam gradually filled the bathroom, blurring my figure.

I took off my clothes and was about to shower when I casually looked up and noticed Ella lying on the bed, glancing nervously in this direction before immediately burying her head under the covers.

This sweetie—I leave the bathroom door open, and she gets this shy?

Less than two minutes later, I called out, "Ella."

She moved slightly but didn't respond.

"Ella, I know you're pretending to sleep," I continued calling.

She still kept her eyes tightly shut, not making a sound.

"Ella," I shouted.

She seemed to realize she couldn't keep up the act and finally poked her head out from under the covers, responding quietly.

I switched to a commanding tone, "Come here."

She had no choice but to throw off the covers and get out of bed.

She stood at the bathroom doorway, not daring to lift her head, asking timidly, "Wh-what is it?"

"What are you doing standing at the door? Come in," I said, turning my head to look at her cowering at the entrance.

She still didn't lift her head, saying softly, "Whatever you need to say, you can say it from here. I can hear you."

I said bluntly, "Come help me shower."

Her pupils instantly dilated, her face blank—her brain probably shut down again.

I deliberately asked righteously, "Have you forgotten about making my wound open up before? You can't be so irresponsible. Don't you agree?"

Actually, I'd accidentally reopened the wound myself, but I just wanted to tease her.

Seeing her standing there motionless, I walked out a few steps, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the bathroom.

The entire bathroom was filled with steam, and within moments, her face was flushed red from the heat.

She kept her head down, not daring to look at me.

I lifted her head up, caught her hand, and squeezed body wash onto her trembling palm.

Then I turned around, my back to her, and commanded in a low voice, "Start."

After a moment of shock, Ella had no choice but to lather the body wash in her palm helplessly and clumsily spread it on my back.

The moment her hand touched my back, I felt her pause slightly.

I knew she must have seen the scars on my back.

She looked up carefully. My back had quite a few scars.

The long ones were from knife wounds; the round ones were marks left by bullets.

I get hurt too—I just don't usually let people see my vulnerability.

"What are you spacing out for? Do I need to teach you how to wash someone?" I asked quietly.

She snapped back to attention and shook her head.

I smiled slightly and bent down a bit, "Can't reach?"

There's like a 10-inch height difference between us, but it's not like she can't reach.

Ella mechanically continued spreading bubbles on me.

When her palm slid over the scar on my lower back, her movements stopped.

The scar on my lower back was the most shocking one.

Sensing the clumsy movements behind me stop, I asked, "What? You like this scar?"

I grabbed her hand and joked, "If you like it, feel free to touch it. I'm always generous with my woman." As I spoke, I guided her hand to rub over the scar.

She immediately pulled her hand back.

This sweetie is still so shy.

I held her hand and slowly turned around, looking at her standing there in a daze.

On the wall, the once-bright mirror had somehow become covered with a faint layer of steam.

I reached up and wiped the steam off the mirror.

As the fog cleared, the glass reflected both our faces back at us.

One face radiated defiance and reckless confidence, while the other was soft and beautiful, yet clouded with confusion and unease.

I looked at our reflection in the mirror, water droplets continuously sliding down from my blonde hair.

"Sweetie," I called her softly, my fingers gently sliding across her soft cheek, "do you know how I got the scar on my lower back?"