NOVPUB
Chapter 48 - 48- adorable
As Cynthia entered, Albert casually picked up a piece of clothing draped over the sofa and tossed it to her with a nonchalant look.
"Go take a shower."
She grabbed the item, took one look, and nearly popped her eyes out. It was a black, sheer, silk slip—so thin that, held in her palm, she could see the lines of her hand right through it. And the neckline? Cut so low, it might as well plunge down to her navel!
Wearing this barely-there fabric was no different from wearing nothing at all. He was definitely doing this on purpose! This man was an absolute shameless, twisted pervert!
Fighting the urge to hurl it back at him, she threw the slip onto the sofa and turned toward the wardrobe, her voice laced with indignation.
"I'm not wearing it! I'll just put on my old T-shirt."
Hands tucked in his pockets, he watched her with an infuriatingly smug expression. "I had Fredy toss that T-shirt. It was way too worn out."
Unbelieving, she rummaged through the wardrobe, only to confirm that the shirt was indeed gone. Furious, she spun around to glare at him, only to see his smirk deepen with a suggestive gleam.
"That's your only option," he drawled. "Of course, you can choose not to wear anything. I'd welcome that even more."
Cynthia shook with anger, wishing she could plant a fist right into his wickedly smug face.
He strolled over to the bed and sat down, leaning back with both hands on the mattress. His robe parted just enough to reveal his muscular, tanned chest.
"You're not planning to skip the shower and jump right in, are you?" He grinned, voice taunting. "Not that I'd mind, Cynthia, but for both our sakes, a little freshening up might be better." 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘱𝘶𝑏.𝑐𝘰𝑚
"Albert Wilson, why don't you just drop dead!"
She couldn't hold back her shout and, spotting a tissue box nearby, hurled it at him with all her might. Snatching the slip, she dashed into the bathroom, her escape accompanied by his infuriating laughter echoing behind her.
In the bathroom, she scrubbed herself under the water with a vengeance, washing over and over, slathering his pricey shower gel onto her skin as if she could drain it dry. (*Narrator's voice*: "Oh, sweet Cynthia, even if you tried to burn through his fortune, it wouldn't be that easy, let alone with one tiny bottle of shower gel! Now, be a good girl and let my dear octopus have his way with you once you're done venting!")
The outcome of using too much shower gel was that no amount of rinsing seemed enough to get it off. By the time she finally felt clean, her skin was practically raw.
She had hoped to wrap herself in a towel, but after scouring the spacious bathroom, not a single towel was in sight. She suspected he'd hidden them on purpose.
Reluctantly, she slipped on the hated slip, not even daring to glance at herself in the mirror. With eyes tightly shut, she braced herself and bolted out of the bathroom. Albert Wilson, lounging against the headboard with a book, glanced up, startled by her sudden entrance.
One look was all it took. His gaze grew dark and intense as her graceful, delicate figure, highlighted beneath the thin veil of silk, captivated him. The seductive curves of her chest, and the alluring triangle he'd already explored, were visible in that maddeningly sheer slip, and he suddenly felt parched, swallowing hard.
Truthfully, he'd bought the slip as a joke, expecting her to outright refuse to wear something like this. But seeing her now, alluring beyond words, had him wound tight with desire.
He tossed the blanket aside, got out of bed, and began to walk toward her with narrowed eyes, step by deliberate step.
Cynthia's heart pounded as he approached, his intense gaze making her feel as if he'd devour her whole. Each step he took seemed to land right on her heart. Just as he came within a few steps, she spun around and bolted back into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her.
Albert, realizing her intent, reached out to grab her but was a second too late. Frustrated, he glared at the closed door, his desire fully ignited. She actually dared to run?
He pounded on the door, voice low and commanding. "Come out!"
"No way!"
Cynthia hid stubbornly behind the door, refusing to come out. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she saw just how much of her was visible through the flimsy fabric. No wonder he'd had that look on his face. Her cheeks grew even redder in embarrassment.
Albert kicked the door, his voice commanding, "Cynthia, I'm giving you three seconds. Come out right now, or face the consequences!"
Three seconds passed in silence, which only fueled his frustration as he called out, "Fredy! Bring me the bathroom key!"
Fredy answered dutifully, and the sound of him heading downstairs to retrieve the key echoed back. Albert stood glaring at the door, but then, suddenly, it cracked open, and Cynthia threw herself into his arms, her muffled grumble spilling out against him.
"Albert Wilson, you shameless man—"
Her fragrant, warm body clung tightly to him, wrapping around him as if refusing to let go, determined to keep him from seeing her in that slip. His heart skipped a beat, stirred by her small display of vulnerability, her stubborn, almost childish defiance, and the faint hint of playfulness.
"Sir, I have the bathroom key!"
Fredy's voice called from the hall, but Albert, his voice low, replied, "No need for it now. You can go back downstairs."
Then he lifted Cynthia into his arms, striding toward the bed with a smile of affection he hadn't even realized he wore. As he set her down on the bed, she clung to his neck, refusing to let him pull away. Leaning over her, he sighed in defeat, "I've already seen everything."
"That doesn't matter!" she shot back, cheeks flushed, her long legs winding around his waist like a snake, trapping him even closer. He had no choice but to tumble down onto the bed with her.
Suddenly, he found her stubbornness adorable beyond words.
"With you holding me this tight, how are we supposed to keep going?" he murmured.
"Then we shouldn't continue at all!" she replied, a slight glimmer of triumph flashing across her flushed face as if she truly believed she'd stopped him.
He caught the mischievous sparkle in her eyes but played along, feigning a hint of disappointment. "So we're just going to sleep like this?"
Cynthia nodded eagerly, almost wanting to raise both hands in full agreement with his "suggestion." If he'd leave her in peace, she'd be more than thrilled.
He lowered his voice, thick with unhidden desire. "Are you sure?"
His nose brushed against hers, his warm breath against her neck, and something in his tone hinted that he wasn't quite as innocent as he sounded. But she couldn't pinpoint what was off, so she bit her lip and nodded again.
True to his word, he stayed still—yet his weight settled completely against her, pressing close until his head rested right in the softness of her chest. Through the thin fabric, his lips just happened to press against her in a way that made her heart race.
Startled, she quickly let go of his neck, hands flying up to push him away. "Albert Wilson, what are you doing? Get up, now!"
But he only nestled himself more comfortably against her, murmuring, "Didn't you say we're sleeping like this? I'm a bit tired, so let's sleep."
Though his words sounded sincere, the grin on his face grew wider. *Woman, you think you can outwit me? You've got a lot to learn.*
Cynthia was on the verge of tears; how was she supposed to know he'd pull a stunt like this? She'd thought he'd lie down beside her and sleep peacefully! She pushed at his head with frantic little hands, protesting, "Albert Wilson, get up! I can barely breathe!"
He was heavy enough as it was, pressing her down, and with his head in that particular spot, she hardly dared to take a full breath.
After a long pause, he finally sat up slowly, looking at her with a hint of reproach.
"Cynthia, you were the one who wanted to sleep like this, and now you're the one objecting. Isn't that a bit unreasonable?"
"What?" she nearly choked, gritting her teeth in frustration as she pointed accusingly at him. "Albert Wilson! You did that on purpose!"
Clearly, he'd been toying with her, taking advantage of her, yet now he was making it seem as if she was the unreasonable one. His face, however, was the picture of innocence.
"I confirmed it with you multiple times just now—you said to sleep like this."
Shaking with anger, she pushed him and began to punch and kick, muttering, "Get off of me!"
Her thin nightgown left little to the imagination, and after a few moments of struggle, she suddenly froze. His gaze had become so intense it was practically on fire. Flustered, she tried to cover herself, but he swiftly pinned her hands above her head. The next second, his warm lips found their way to her chest.
"Mmm..."
She wanted to shout at him to let her go, but his kiss silenced her, turning her words into a soft murmur. Her quiet sound of surrender seemed to snap his last thread of restraint. With a swift movement, he shrugged off his robe and, in one firm motion, joined with her.
