Chapter 74 He Got Angry
Bianca's gaze flickered away, her spine straightening as if she could hide the guilt tightening in her chest. She stared straight ahead, lips pressed together in a thin, stubborn line.
A faint cough escaped her throat. "I'm not some kind of mind reader..."
Her voice was barely audible. She turned her head toward the window, letting the blur of passing streets swallow her words, as if she could casually sweep her guilt under the rug.
Terrence wasn't the kind of man who let things slide. His hand came up, firm and uncompromising, forcing her face back toward him.
"I think you knew exactly what they were planning. You're not afraid they'd actually pull it off?"
The thought of her being drugged with something that could strip her control sent a cold edge slicing through his dark eyes. His gaze locked onto hers, unrelenting, as if her silence alone was an admission.
His expression stayed calm, the same unreadable mask he wore every day, but the air between them had gone sharp, the temperature dropping.
Bianca swallowed, her pulse tripping over itself.
He was angry.
"I did know their plan," she said, her tone steady but her body taut. "And I was certain... ten out of ten certain... that even if I couldn't turn the tables, I'd keep myself safe."
Terrence didn't speak. His thumb dragged along the curve of her chin, then pressed hard against her lips.
Her lips paled under the pressure. The force was enough to make her brows draw together, but his simmering fury kept her still.
"You're certain," he murmured, voice low, unreadable.
She nodded sharply.
"Mr. Anderson, I know you're worried about me, but I only went alone because I was sure. If you were there, they'd be cautious... it would mess up my plan."
"I would mess you up," he repeated, his tone flat.
Her hands closed around his wrist, her eyes softening with a flicker of plea.
"Terrence, I wasn't hiding it from you on purpose. If I hadn't been sure, I'd have begged you to help me."
Her voice dipped into something warmer, coaxing, as she rubbed her cheek against his palm.
His thumb shifted, stroking along her jaw with a gentler touch.
Seeing his grip ease, Bianca leaned in, her smile almost submissive.
"You know I lean on you all the time. If I couldn't handle it alone, you'd be the first person I'd ask."
She brushed a kiss against his lips, her breath warm against his skin. Her hair tickled the side of his jaw.
Terrence's hand slid down her back, catching the curve of her waist and pulling her hard into his chest.
"Next time, let me handle it. No need to dirty your own hands."
She melted against him, her fingertips tracing slow circles over his shirt.
"But it's not the same as doing it myself."
His hand caught hers, his eyes darkening with heat.
"I worry about you."
The sincerity in his voice hit her like a blow, unsettling the calm she'd tried to hold. Their eyes locked, heat and defiance tangling between them.
The next second, his mouth crashed onto hers.
The kiss was rough, consuming, his lips moving with a hunger that left no room for breath. His tongue pushed deep, tasting her like he could own her from the inside out. Bianca's palms pressed to his chest, but his grip slammed her hands against the cold glass of the car window. The chill bit into her skin, but it couldn't extinguish the fire roaring through her.
She tilted her chin in protest, but Terrence only deepened the kiss, his breath hot against her mouth. Every movement was deliberate, a mix of frustration and desire that made her thighs tense.
Terrence's kiss was brutal, possessive, leaving no room for air or protest. She was trapped beneath the weight of his fury and desire, her only rebellion the slight tilt of her chin against his assault.
But he was like a predator who'd caught the scent of blood, relentless and hungry, refusing to let her go.
His mouth worked against hers with increasing intensity, as if he could devour her completely, claim every breath she might take.
The sensation sent heat pooling between her thighs, her legs pressing together instinctively. But nothing escaped his notice.
His hands moved with rough authority, tearing at the sleek fabric of her black dress. The smooth material of his suit pants pressed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he positioned himself against her core.
She was already slick with arousal from his touch, her body betraying her with its readiness. The dampness seeped through the fabric between them, a silent invitation that drove him wild.
Through the torn dress, his palm covered her breast, squeezing with raw need rather than finesse. The roughness should have hurt, but instead it left her boneless, melting under his touch.
She felt helpless, completely at his mercy, like prey caught in a trap with nowhere to run.
When he finally released her mouth, she collapsed against the car door, her face flushed deep pink, eyes heavy with desire. Her hands were still pressed against the cold window, the only thing keeping her upright as her legs threatened to give out.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted, the tip of her tongue visible as she struggled to catch her breath.
Every movement radiated pure temptation.
Terrence pulled his belt free, the black leather trailing across her exposed skin, leaving red marks in its wake.
The metal buckle caught against her hardened nipple, and he pressed down deliberately.
A moan escaped her lips as she arched into the pressure, completely unaware of how wanton she looked in that moment.
Her zipper gave way under his hands, the black dress sliding down to pool around her waist.
Her breasts were bare now, nipples peaked and demanding attention.
He lowered his head to take one into his mouth, his grip firm at the base as he sucked hard enough to make her gasp.
The intensity made her feel as though he might draw milk from her body, the sensation overwhelming.
Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, gripping the silky strands as waves of pleasure crashed over her.
When his control finally snapped completely, he drove into her with one powerful thrust that made her throw her head back, eyes rolling as sensation consumed her entirely.
Bianca's smile was faint, her heartbeat still pounding against her ribs.
Later, at the house, the servants brought in her freshly pressed school uniform. She glanced at the date on her phone, her mind already drifting.
School was starting soon. That meant she wouldn't be going to the company for a while. Today was the perfect chance to speak to Glenn face to face.
At the office, she barely stepped inside before the receptionist called out.
"Ms. Rodriguez, Mr. Glenn Rodriguez is waiting for you in his office."
Her brows lifted. She hadn't gone looking for Glenn... yet he'd summoned her first.
"Alright. Pass this file to Lon for me." She pulled a folder from her bag, handing it over.
"Of course, Ms. Rodriguez."
She took the elevator straight to the top floor, heading for Glenn's office. Without bothering to knock, she pushed the door open.
Glenn looked up sharply, irritation flashing in his eyes.
"Who barges in without knocking?"