This time it was Sophie Smith’s turn to stammer. She hadn’t expected Oliver Johnson to mess around with her verbally and be quite skilled at it.
"Alright, I won’t make it difficult for you. I really must leave now. A single man and woman alone in a room—I’m afraid I might lose control of myself."
Before leaving, Oliver Johnson didn’t forget to joke with her, causing Sophie Smith’s face to blush once again. Indeed, her skin was really thin.
Sophie Smith didn’t go home tonight, which unexpectedly improved Irene Morton’s mood.
After dinner, she went to the bathroom to take a shower. As she rubbed her still wet hair, she raised her eyes to look at herself in the mirror.
Her face was exquisite, her lips were red, and her teeth were white. Because she’d just showered, she had a slightly more seductive air about her.
She has always felt she was no worse than Sophie Smith. Her body had curves, and her face was beautiful. Why is it then that he has no intentions toward her whatsoever?
A bold decision flashed across her mind, and she curled her lips. She couldn’t believe that, as a normal man, he wouldn’t be moved by her?
She carefully selected from her wardrobe and eventually found a sexy sheer nightgown that outlined her curvaceous figure.
Beneath it, she went completely bare. She had truly made up her mind this time. If he wanted her, then she surely had a chance.
The corridor on the second floor was quiet; it was already late, and the servants had gone to sleep, so she walked boldly toward his room.
His door was slightly ajar. She quietly pushed it open and found that he wasn’t there; the sound of water came from the bathroom—turns out he was showering.
Irene Morton’s face unconsciously reddened, thinking about what might happen next made her heart race.
She took off her shoes and climbed onto his bed, the bed seemingly still carrying a distinct masculine scent—for someone inexperienced in matters between men and women, it was enough to stir her inner turmoil and unease.
She wrapped herself tightly in the quilt, suddenly the sound of water in the bathroom stopped, and she heard the door open.
Asher Land stopped a few steps away from the bedside.
There was a small figure facing away from him on the bed. He raised his eyebrows, surely Sophie Smith had come back? Read full story at N0velFire.ɴet
"Looks like you can’t quite handle loneliness," he smirked smugly, walked to the bed, lay down, and embraced Irene Morton from behind.
"Is it that without me beside you, you can’t sleep?" His words carried a hint of teasing, and his large hand wandered restlessly on her body, making Irene Morton tremble.
Asher Land firmly believed the person on the bed was Sophie Smith, so his actions were even more inappropriate.
Irene Morton’s body had already relaxed, and Asher Land used a bit of force to turn her body over.
"It’s you!" Asher Land seemed startled, quickly jumping off the bed.
"Why are you on my bed?" Asher Land’s face was serious, his tone filled with questioning.
"Brother Asher..." Irene Morton’s voice was heavily pitched, Asher Land’s casual teasing just made her body lose control.
Irene Morton got off the bed, approaching him.
The sheer nightgown was already half slipping off, now wearing it was as good as not wearing it at all.
"Put your clothes on properly." His tone was somewhat stern.
He genuinely didn’t expect Irene Morton’s guts to grow so big, daring to climb onto his bed?
"Brother Asher, I’m a woman too, I, I’m not worse than Sister Sophie," Irene Morton appeared pitifully, "Would you like me?"
"Ha..." He let out a cold laugh, his eyes full of disdain, "I think, I, Asher Land, am not to the point of jumping at every woman I see."