Chapter 181

Then, a corner of the blanket was lifted, and cold air carrying the scent of night and tobacco swept in as Damian slipped into the warm bed.

He got into bed.

Grace almost immediately wanted to shrink to the other side of the bed, but her body felt frozen in place, unable to move.

Damian lay down, right behind her.

The bed was large, but he lay close. The cold aura from his body and the presence of another person instantly enveloped her.

Grace could clearly feel his warm breath landing on the back of her neck.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, every muscle in her body aching from extreme tension.

A hand reached over from behind her and wrapped around her waist.

That hand was ice cold.

Through the thin silk nightgown, the chill seemed to penetrate skin and flesh, reaching straight to her bones.

Grace's whole body shuddered, as if stung by a scorpion, no longer able to maintain her pretense of sleep. She struggled violently, using both hands and feet to push him away, trying to escape from his restraint.

"Don't touch me!" She kept her voice low, but it was full of uncontrollable trembling and resistance.

Her struggling was useless against that strong arm. He simply tightened his arm slightly and locked her entire body firmly in his embrace, unable to move.

Her back was pressed tightly against his burning chest.

The extreme sensation of ice and heat nearly drove her mad.

The chain on her ankle made a series of soft metallic sounds under the blanket as she moved, reminding her of the inescapable reality.

"Let me go! Damian, let go!" She twisted her body, jabbing backward forcefully with her elbow.

He didn't speak, just let her struggle. His body remained solid and immovable as stone.

Until she struggled to exhaustion, left with only rapid breathing.

Only then did he slowly speak by her ear. His voice was low, carrying a hint of nighttime hoarseness, yet cold without a trace of warmth.

"Want to leave this place?"

Grace panted, her body stiffening.

She didn't answer.

Damian held Grace while his other cold hand covered her lower abdomen. His fingers were long and well-defined, his palm bearing thin calluses. That hand just rested there quietly, making no extra movements, yet every inch of her skin trembled.

"Answer me." He commanded.

Grace said through gritted teeth, "Yes."

"Then behave."

His voice was calm, as if stating the simplest transaction.

"Be good, like before."

These words were like a poisoned knife, stabbing viciously into Grace's heart.

Humiliation, anger, sorrow... all emotions surged up in an instant. She stopped all struggling, her body completely rigid, like a soulless puppet.

Her compliance seemed to please Damian.

The arm around her waist loosened slightly. And the hand covering her lower abdomen began to move.

His fingertips, through that layer of smooth silk, began to slowly move upward.

The nightgown's fabric was slippery, his movements slow. Every touch of his fingertips felt intensely amplified, so clear she couldn't ignore it.

Grace could feel her body, beyond her own will, having a physical reaction. Tiny goosebumps rose on her skin.

Her breathing became erratic.

Grace buried her face in the soft pillow, biting down hard on her own arm to prevent herself from making any sound. Tears silently slid from the corners of her eyes, soaking the pillowcase.

That hand stopped below her ribs.

Then it changed direction, following the curves of her body, slowly moving upward, finally covering her left breast.

Grace's body trembled violently.

Damian's palm was large, almost able to completely cover her breast. He didn't move immediately, just waited for his palm to warm up, then slowly pressed against that area of skin.

In the darkness, Grace could hear Damian's steady breathing and her own drumming heartbeat.

She closed her eyes, her nails digging deep into her palms.

After a long while, his thumb began to move.

He used his fingertip, through that layer of silk, with moderate pressure, slowly circling the peak of her nipple.

A suppressed moan escaped from between Grace's teeth. Grace immediately covered her mouth tightly.

This tiny sound was like a switch.

He seemed encouraged, his movements becoming less restrained.

His fingers began to knead her breast, the pressure varying between light and heavy.

The silk fabric of the nightgown repeatedly rubbed against that sensitive point under his fingers.

A strange, unspeakable tingling sensation began from that point, spreading rapidly throughout her body like an electric current.

Her body began to soften and heat up. The muscles that had been tense from struggling now slackened beyond her control.

Grace hated her body.

Hated that under such humiliation, it could still produce such shameful physical reactions.

Just as Grace was about to be driven mad by this unfamiliar feeling, Damian's lips pressed against her earlobe.

He didn't kiss her, just used his warm breath to blow on her sensitive earlobe.

"Grace," he called her name, his voice low and husky, "you're still so sensitive."

Grace's whole body shook, as if all her disguises had been stripped away in public. Shame flooded over her like a tide.

She wanted to argue back, to curse him, but her throat felt tight, constricted, unable to utter a single word.

His hand didn't stop. Instead, it intensified, and his other hand also reached over, slipping in from the hem of the nightgown.

Cold fingertips directly touched the warm skin of her inner thigh.

Grace gasped in shock, her legs instinctively pressing together, trying to trap that wandering hand.

"Don't move." He commanded by her ear.

His voice wasn't loud, but carried irresistible authority.

Grace didn't dare move again.

That hand then proceeded unobstructed along the tender flesh of her inner thigh, moving upward. Wherever it passed, it stirred up tremors.

She could clearly feel her body betraying her beyond her control.

She closed her eyes in despair.

Damian seemed very satisfied with her compliance. His kisses finally descended.

Landing on the back of her neck, her shoulder blades, every vertebra of her spine. Damian's kisses were light, carrying a hint of nibbling, as if marking his possession.

While kissing, he turned her entire body over to face him.

In the dim light, she finally saw his face clearly.

His features were deep, his eyes hidden in shadow, unclear. Only those eyes were startlingly bright, locked firmly on her.

He lowered his head and found her lips precisely.

This kiss was different from the one in the office that afternoon, full of plunder and punishment.

This kiss was deep and lingering.

He didn't roughly pry open her teeth, but used his tongue tip to patiently trace the shape of her lips again and again. As if savoring a delicacy lost and found.

Grace endured it rigidly.

His hand continued to caress her body.