Chapter 135
It was 11 PM when she settled her tab and prepared to leave the bar, just as Sullivan walked in from the chilly night outside. He wore a thin black overcoat that did little against the winter cold, but the fine–striped, blue shirt he wore underneath lent him a dapper air.
It seemed there had been a light drizzle outside as droplets clung to his coat, adding a brooding, almost romantic air to his deep–set eyes and furrowed brow.
The bar was still deafeningly loud.
They locked eyes across the crowded room, he with his intense gaze, she with a detached coolness.
Beneath her coat, Megan wore a slightly sheer silk blouse paired with a matching black pencil skirt – a departure from her usual conservative style that added a touch of allure…
Sullivan’s eyes darkened noticeably.
After a moment, he made his way over to her. He took her coat, helped her into it, and meticulously fastened each button from bottom to top, not missing a single one.
His dark, ulterior motives were unmistakable.
Megan found it laughable. As he took her hand, she couldn’t help but mock him, “Sullivan, why the charade of deep affection? I’m hardly a naive girl in her early twenties.”
Sullivan tilted his head to look at her, “You’re only 24”
Megan smiled faintly. Yes, she was just 24, but she had already had her fill of the bitterness of love.
Megan didn’t take the passenger seat; instead, she slid into the back.
Sullivan stood by the passenger door, staring at her, “You treating me like your chauffeur now?”
Megan was a bit buzzed, her voice raspy as she half–closed her eyes, “You sent Leo away to drive yourself. Doesn’t that make you the chauffeur? It’s not like anyone forced you.”
With a “thud“, Sullivan shut the car door, circled around to the driver’s side, and buckled up, retorting with mock derision, “You sure have a sharp tongue now, Mrs. Lowry.”
Still soft, Megan replied, “Isn’t it all thanks to you?”
Sullivan watched her in the rear–view mirror.
Her half–closed starry eyes, her serene and luminous face, the delicate curve of her neck – unspeakably exquisite, especially in the half–sheer black silk blouse after she had removed her coat..
Sullivan swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing involuntarily. He realized that no matter how cold Megan was to him, he couldn’t stop fantasizing about her.
The car pulled up to the villa, the drizzle persisting like a finely woven curtain. The maid approached with an umbrella, which Sullivan took from him.
He guided Megan by the shoulder, leading her back to the house.
Once inside, Megan pushed him away, stating icily, “I’m a bit damp. I think I’ll take a bath!”
With that, she gracefully ascended the staircase. Her silk dress shimmered under the crystal lights, her aloofness only fueling the man’s desire to conquer and possess…
So, when Megan pushed open the bedroom door, she found herself pressed against it by Sullivan’s eager body.
The lights were off, the room cast in shadows.
Megan didn’t resist.
Instead, she tilted her head back, her voice husky, “If you want me, Sullivan, wait until after my bath.”
Those words only aggravated Sullivan.
“I can’t wait, Mrs. Lowry! I want you now! So this is what it’s come to? A routine affair? Do we need to freshen up before intimacy to feel anything at all? Do I even exist to you anymore?”
He didn’t wait to get to the bed.
Chapter 135
Right there, he pinned her against the wall, his lips crashing onto hers.
Their marriage had seasoned them, he knew how to claim her body was never as comfortable as the bed.
with ease, without the need for tenderness – though, of course, it
Megan let him have his way, for their marriage had been reduced to this physicality.
She leaned into his shoulder, finding the position less taxing. Her hair, dampened by the rain, brushed softly against Sullivan’s neck… a subtle tickle that penetrated straight to his heart and went right to his head.
