Chapter 287

Thalassa felt a sting from his gaze, her eyes darting anxiously. Following his line of sight, she found herself clad in a blue suit threaded with golden lines.

Her heart hammered wildly, her words tumbling out in panic, “I bumped into him at the restaurant yesterday. He insisted on driving me home. I left my purse in his car. I didn’t want to, but he insisted on coming over, afraid I’d catch a cold, so he lent me his jacket.”

Lysander gritted his teeth, grabbed her wrist, and hoisted her off the couch with a rough gesture, tearing off the suit she was wearing and tossing it aside. Then, he dragged her upstairs to the master bedroom and pushed her into the bathroom.

He turned on the shower, the hot water pouring down on Thalassa. Caught off guard, she flinched from the sudden torrent.

Before she could react, her nightgown was ripped open from the neckline, buttons popping off and scattering on the floor.

Lysander was tearing at her clothes like a beast ripping into its prey.

Thalassa hastily covered her chest, backing away in panic, “Mr. Sinclair, please, there’s nothing going on between Leopold and me.”

“Then prove it to me,” Lysander’s voice was icy as he advanced on her, step by step.

The water from the shower head rained down on them both.

Thalassa, half her clothes torn off and soaked by the water, looked a total mess.

And Lysander, hair slicked back with water, droplets sliding down from his short, damp locks and landing on his handsome, sharp features. His black shirt was soaked, clinging to his body.

His physique was strong and well-built, a perfect set of abs faintly visible.

A wild beauty radiated from him.

But for Thalassa, this was as dangerous as it was bloody.

She backed up until she bumped into the wall, no escape in sight.

Lysander closed the gap, his arm braced against the wall, trapping her between the hard surface and himself. His handsome face loomed over her, the steamy, dangerously hot breath brushing her lips, “Did you think being my woman would be easy?”

His lips, sensuous yet wild, brushed hers tantalizingly.

Like an electric current, intermittent jolts shot through her, making Thalassa’s heart flutter.

Her body stiffened, her heartbeat accelerating.

“No, it’s not easy, Mr. Sinclair. Can you let me off the hook today? I’m not ready yet.”

Thalassa’s voice trembled involuntarily, shivering.

His muscular, powerful body was pressing against her, the potent scent of his masculinity seeping into her skin, making her heartbeat erratic.

Panic, tremors, unease, tension, helplessness.

How could being his woman ever be easy?

She had experienced his wildness and strength firsthand five years ago.

It had nearly cost her half her life.

How could she possibly think being his woman would be easy?

Her soft, pleading voice was like a fuse igniting dynamite.

Lysander’s throat tightened, and he bit down on her lips, devouring.

“Umm.” Thalassa’s eyes widened in shock, her body stiff against the wall, trembling.

Lysander, like a beast, bit and gnawed at her lips. The sweetness, the intoxicating sensation, was as enticing as ever, causing his usually strong self-control to crumble.

She was begging for mercy, hoping he would let her off.

In the past, he might have.

But now, no chance!