Chapter 1200

Thalassa snapped back to reality and hurriedly pushed at him.

Her push was gentle and seemingly insignificant, but it was enough to signal Lysander that she didn’t want to.

Lysander caught her misbehaving hand and placed it firmly on his waist, inviting her to wrap her arms around him.

He released her lips, his breath heavy and raspy, hot puffs brushing against her face, moist kisses landing on the corner of her mouth, her chin, her neck, and finally peppering feather-light kisses near her ear.

The deep resonance of his breathing tickled the delicate skin behind Thalassa’s ear, causing her to involuntarily shrink her neck.

Her long eyelashes were moist, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as Thalassa gasped, “Stop it, you're just tormenting yourself."

He knew full well she couldn't right now.

Yet, he continued to fan the flames.

Wasn't that just making it harder on himself?

Lysander's hoarse voice brushed her ear, “What did you have?”

His voice, low and fluid, vibrated against Thalassa’s eardrum, tightening her nerves.

He was still circling around the fact that she had a meal with Hertha and Spencer.

Lysander could be pettier than a little kid when he wanted to.

Thalassa cautiously replied, “We ordered Hertha’s favorites. I just had a bit on the side.”

“So, what did you have?” Lysander's lips grazed her earlobe playfully.

That teasing act made Thalassa squirm, her neck itching, her heart fluttering uncontrollably.

Gasping, she pleaded, “Meatloaf with mashed potatoes, fish sticks, and barbecued chicken wings…”

“Hmm,” Lysander grunted, his voice rough, finally sparing her ear.

His face buried in her neck, his rugged breaths slowed, no further actions taken, just pressing down on her, holding her, as if restraining something.

Thalassa didn’t move either, her hands stayed wrapped around his waist, not pulling away.

His waist was lean and packed with a sense of strength that she could feel even through the fabric, dangerous and overwhelming.

Lysander breathed deeply, his grip firm yet controlled.

Thalassa’s own breathing was heavy, her arms lightly encircling his waist, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat and breath.

After a while, Lysander lifted his head, rolled over, and lay beside Thalassa, finally releasing her.

As his heavy, warm body withdrew, Thalassa's shoulders relaxed, her eyes closed as sleep brewed.

Lysander turned to look at her, and upon seeing her eyes closed, he murmured, “Tired?”

“Yeah, I want a nap. Stop talking to me,” Thalassa responded without opening her eyes.

So, she simply didn’t meet his gaze, enduring his scrutiny with her eyes shut.

Lysander watched her, noting her eyes darting beneath her delicate eyelids, a clear sign of her anxiety.

His presence made her nervous.

Lysander's face tensed slightly. He rose from the bed, pulled the blanket over her, and left the room quietly.

With all these thoughts, Thalassa tossed and turned, breathing deeply, yet sleep eluded her.