Chapter 121 Chapter 121
“Baby...”
Suddenly, the man's voice changed. It became a dangerous, seductive whisper right next to her ear. He leaned in, brushing his lips against the sensitive lobe of her ear, and whispered an indecent suggestion.
Caroline's face instantly burst into flames. The heat spread down to her neck.
Shocked, her eyes widened. She tried to push him away, mixing shyness with indignation. “You... you shameless delinquent! Don't even think about it! I'm not going to do that!”
“Baby...” Nicholas laughed softly, a vibrant and magnetic sound.
He captured her hand, which was trying to push him away, and slowly guided it down, stopping at a dangerous zone, just so she could feel the gravity of the situation.
“Just this once,” he pleaded, his voice dripping with persuasive charm. “Consider it an act of charity for your distressed husband, hmm? Do you want to see me suffer like this?”
Are you going to let me explode?
Caroline was sitting on his lap. She didn't need his hand guiding her to feel the problem. The evidence was hard and undeniable against her thigh.
But his request... was too bold!
She bit her lip, her heart almost jumping out of her mouth. “Nicholas...”
How could he be so brazen?
“Baby, you can feel it, can't you?” He kissed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “I'm suffering. Help me...”
His voice, hoarse and vulnerable, broke down her defenses.
“You... you can fix this yourself!” she stammered, trying to be rational.
“Men know how to do this! Why do I have to help?”
“Honey.” He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent as if it were his only source of oxygen. “I don't want to do this alone. It's no fun without you. I need your hand.”
Hearing that “I need you,” said with such urgency, was the final blow.
Caroline closed her eyes, defeated by her own soft heart (and his relentless seduction).
...
Forty minutes later.
In the end, she couldn't resist.
The bathroom door opened. Nicholas came out carrying Caroline in his arms, as if she were a princess exhausted from battle.
Her face was red as a tomato, and her eyes shot daggers of resentment in his direction.
She shouldn't have promised him that!
Her hands... were numb. They ached from the effort.
That man was inhuman! If she hadn't begged and whined for him to finish quickly, he would have gone on for hours. His stamina was frightening.
Nicholas, on the other hand, looked like a lion that had just fed.
He was radiant, relaxed, and wearing an expression of lazy satisfaction. Although it wasn't complete “consummation,” having her hand take care of him was an intoxicating experience.
He gently laid her on the bed and sat down beside her.
Seeing his wife's sulky expression, he smiled, took her small hand, and began to massage her palm and fingers tenderly.
“Honey... do your hands hurt?” he asked, kissing her fingertips. “Let me massage them for you. I'll make up for all your hard work.”
Remembering the embarrassing scene in the bathroom, the sound of his breathing, and what had happened to her hands, Caroline felt a mixture of shame and irritation.
She pulled her hand back and turned her face away. “Don't talk to me!”
He was... too despicable!
He seemed so cold and noble in public, but behind closed doors, he turned into an insatiable machine.
She ignored him, but Nicholas didn't care. The patience of a satisfied man is infinite.
He chuckled softly, pulled her hand back, and continued the massage, ignoring her weak protests.
"It's okay, it's okay.
I'll be your servant now.
He was about to pull her into a spooning embrace to sleep (or rest before lunch) when a sharp sound broke the bubble of intimacy.
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked on the bedroom door.
Nicholas' relaxed expression hardened instantly.
“Gentlemen, lunch is served.” Enrico's muffled, polite voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Miss Sara is already at the table, waiting.”
Nicholas stopped midway, still with Caroline nestled in his arms. He looked down, a corner smile curving his satisfied lips.
“Did you hear that, sweetheart?” he whispered. “Your sister is waiting.” Shall we go downstairs and eat?
Still dazed and her hands tingling from the recent “exercise,” Caroline gave him a look of panic mixed with embarrassment.
“Put me down!” she hissed, struggling slightly. “I can walk on my own. I don't want you to carry me downstairs!”
Sara was there!
If her sister saw her being carried like that, right after they left the room with the door locked... Caroline would never hear the end of the jokes.
And more importantly... she needed space. Being in his arms now brought tactile memories of what had just happened in the bathroom, and her face felt like it was on fire.
Nicholas sensed her genuine discomfort. He knew she was shy and didn't want to push her too far.
“All right,” he agreed, his voice soft.
He set her down gently.
The moment her feet touched the carpet, Caroline bolted.
She opened the door and hurried down the hallway, like a rabbit fleeing the wolf's den, without even looking back.
Nicholas remained standing in the center of the room, his hands in his robe pockets, watching her figure disappear.
The smile on his lips deepened, but his eyes darkened with a silent, predatory promise.
She thinks she's escaped, he thought.
He would let her go... for now. But the score was open. When the day came that he could truly touch her, without biological barriers, he would collect that debt with exorbitant interest. He would make her pay for every second of restraint.