Chapter 71 Sleeping in His Arms
She held her breath.
As long as she didn’t wake Donovan, she could sleep in the bedroom.
The man on the sofa was motionless, his eyes half-closed as he observed Iris' cautious demeanor.
She stood on tiptoes, hunched over, with her hands clasped in front of her chest.
She looked just like a thief!
Donovan wanted to laugh, but he held it in.
She had stayed up late at the desk just to wait for him to fall asleep.
He wasn’t tired, but she must have been at her limit.
The master bedroom door closed softly, followed by the distinct click of the lock.
Donovan gave a silent snort.
Was she really that afraid of him?
The room fell silent.
After a while, Donovan pushed himself up from the sofa. He walked to the balcony, leaned against the railing, and lit a cigarette.
The smoke he exhaled drifted away in the breeze slowly.
Even though it was late at night, many neighborhood windows were still lit. He could vaguely make out figures hunched over desks studying behind curtains.
His phone buzzed once—a video had been sent from an unknown number.
Donovan tapped it open.
In the video, Sage's hair was disheveled as she was tied to a chair and cried uncontrollably. Three men stood around her, reaching out to touch her with lecherous grins occasionally.
Although Donovan had instructed his men to go easy on her, Maxwell had acted much faster than anticipated.
They’d caught her in just one day.
Donovan stared expressionlessly at the phone screen.
As the three men humiliated her, Sage’s sobs grew louder and louder. She kept shouting “Sir” at the camera.
Sage and Iris did bear a certain resemblance, especially since Sage had deliberately imitated Iris' style of dress.
Her once fair face was now covered in smudges and bloodstains, obscuring her original features.
Based on her figure and helpless demeanor, even Donovan was momentarily dazed.
He thought that perhaps Iris would face this situation one day—or even worse.
Without realizing it, the hand gripping the phone trembled slightly, the knuckles turning white from the pressure.
The video was nearing its end, the footage freezing just before the three men tore at Sage’s clothes.
From the darkness, one of the men's rough, hoarse voices echoed.
"Donovan, if you want to save your woman, be at the CEO’s office on the top floor of the corporate headquarters at six a.m. tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
The corners of Donovan’s lips curled slightly.
He stubbed out the cigarette in his hand and called Harrison.
“Meet at four.”
“Got it.”
Donovan returned to the living room, tossed the pack of cigarettes onto the table, and, out of the corner of his eye, saw the doorknob of the master bedroom turn slightly.
In an instant, he lay back down on the sofa, his posture exactly the same as before.
The bedroom door opened gently, and Iris tiptoed into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.
She’d intended to warm it up first but decided against it, worried the noise might wake Donovan.
The bedroom door closed again.
Donovan remained in that position, ready to sleep.
His eyes had barely closed when Iris came out again.
She opened the suitcase in the corner of the living room and took out the stuffed cat she hugged every night.
The suitcase was too close to the sofa, so she peeked at Donovan to make sure he hadn’t woken up.
Then, she ran back to her room quickly.
Donovan smiled wryly.
She sure has a lot of quirks when it comes to sleeping.
However, less than five minutes later, the door opened again.
This time, Donovan frowned impatiently.
He had intended to get up and scold Iris for disturbing his sleep, but he stopped himself before he could move.
He could sense that Iris' footsteps were different this time; she seemed hesitant and indecisive.
She was approaching him slowly.
The man’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly.
He remained impassive, waiting quietly.
Iris was completely oblivious to this.
Holding a light blanket in her slender arms, she walked cautiously toward the sofa.
She draped the blanket over Donovan gently.
Just as she turned away,
The hand hanging over the edge of the sofa suddenly grabbed her.
The scorching heat of his palm made her shudder.
She turned to look back. Was Donovan awake?
Iris felt a surge of fear.
If she had another chance, she would never have gone out to cover him with a blanket.
By the time she realized what was happening, he had pulled her into his arms and laid her face-to-face on the wide, soft sofa.
Iris pushed against his chest frantically.
"Are you awake? Then go sleep in the bedroom. I—I’ll sleep on the sofa!”
Donovan didn’t budge an inch and wrapped the blanket tightly around them both.
Realizing she couldn’t push him away, Iris tried to get up and run.
Donovan grinned wickedly as he leaned close to her ear and kissed her earlobe.
That spot was too sensitive.
The tingling, warm, moist sensation caused Iris to let out a moan—soft and sweet like a little kitten.
That sound was lovely!
Her innocent, wide eyes, veiled in a layer of damp mist, looked pitiful and adorable.
Donovan’s breathing grew heavier, and a tingling itch ran down his spine.
He found it hard to resist and pulled Iris even closer.
With a predatory gaze, he savored the sight of her trembling in fear as he spoke slowly.
"Iris, do you want to let me hold you while we sleep? Or do you want to do something else before we sleep?"
“I...I want to sleep on my own.”
"That's not an option."
Donovan kissed Iris' forehead, then trailed down her nose, avoiding the scar, and kissed her cheek before pressing his lips against hers.
Their noses touched. He curved his lips, lightly brushing her nose with a barely perceptible touch. Yet he didn’t rush to kiss her.
Warm breath mingled with a faint scent of tobacco and brushed against her face. Iris frowned slightly.
He’d been smoking!
She instinctively demanded, "You've been awake this whole time? Were you pretending to sleep to trick me?”
“Mm.”
Donovan nodded, admitting it with surprising bluntness.
"But if you hadn't come over, what good would pretending to sleep have done?"
Donovan realized that kissing was truly addictive.
The mental connection and satisfaction were so profound that, once you’d tasted it, you couldn’t stop—you’d only want more.
His lips pressed against hers.
He gently bit her lower lip, then whispered in a hoarse voice before he lost control completely.
“Choose. Do you want me to hold you while we sleep, or do you want to do something else with me?”
Iris didn’t understand. “What else?”
“What do you think?”
Donovan traced the corners of Iris' mouth with his moist, warm lips. His tongue barely brushed her soft lower lip before gently taking it into his mouth and sucking on it deliberately.
Then he added, "Make love."
Iris' eyes fluttered in shock, and she instinctively turned her face away.
She knew she couldn’t break free from his embrace and feared he might take things further.
So she curled up in his arms with unusual compliance, closed her eyes, and made her choice in a flash.
"No, don't do anything else. Just hold me. Let's just sleep like this."
"Okay."