Chapter 178
skin glowed, flawless and dewy, as she hugged herself, legs crossed, trembling like a leaf.
She looked pitiful from above, her curves on full display in her disheveled state – messy yet somehow alluring.
Emotions churned in the depths of Remington’s dark eyes, but Lizetta suddenly lost all her nerve. She bent down uncontrollably to pick up her pants when the man abruptly closed in, his large hand clasping her delicate shoulder.
“Ah!”
Lizetta jumped, her head snapping up to look at Remington, her vision obscured by a swish of long hair.
She was yanked around by Remington, pushed down to kneel on the couch, her shoulder blades under his grip as he invaded her space from behind.
They’d never tried this position before. Lizetta couldn’t see Remington, but she could feel his suppressed rage and ferocity.
Her defenses completely shattered, she tried to flee on her knees, only to be pulled back by his large palm gripping her slender waist.
Their bodies collided with a faint sound. Lizetta froze all over, the man leaning over her, his breath cascading down her trembling spine, trailing up her fragile back.
I
His lips never touched her, but the sensation was more nerve–wracking than if they had, climbing up to her ear and tickling her – Lizetta turned her head to dodge.
His voice was colder than the hot palm of his hand, “So, you stripped yourself for a breakup shag, and now you’re playing coy? Do you know how guys treat a girl who shows up at their door in the middle of the night?”
Lizetta felt no tenderness, only fear and embarrassment. Her voice broke as she shook her head, “No, not here.”
It dawned on Lizetta that the villa’s servants were actually around. If they heard a commotion in the main building, they might come to check.
Her plea was met with a cold snort from the man, his hand on her waist starting to wander and tease, watching her tremble under his touch. Suddenly, he asked, “Who were the bodyguards you took to the vineyard today?”
Lizetta’s focus was on his roaming hand. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she replied without thinking. “They’re Hogan’s men, ah!”
She had borrowed those bodyguards from Hogan, who had also wanted to come along, but she insisted it wasn’t necessary. If only she had known, she would have gone alone, not dragging Yolanda into it.
Now she was relieved Hogan hadn’t joined them, but before she could finish, the man’s hand had moved to the front, squeezing firmly.
Lizetta cried out, and from behind her came Remington’s even colder voice, “Heh, did you strip down and beg him like this to help you this afternoon?”
Lizetta went rigid, as if plunged into an icy cave. She blankly stared at the couch below her, one she had personally chosen, its bright and warm orange hues, its cushions with patterns she had designed and had” custom–made.
She had fantasized about snuggling with Remington on that couch, watching soap operas and feeding each other snacks.
She had also imagined more shameful scenarios, embraces and kisses, but never this kind of humiliation.
The more she had looked forward to it before, the colder and more unbearable it felt now. Suddenly, Lizette started to struggle fiercely, tears silently falling.
*Remington, you jerk! Let me go. I was just desperate tonight, out of my mind! I shouldn’t have come to you; mmphl
“Her angry words were cut off as he flipped her over and sealed her lips.
Lizetta shook her head, trying to hit him, to scratch him, but he pinned her hands down on the couch. She kicked out, but he bent his knees, parting her legs, and dove in deeper.
Lizetta leaned back on the couch, her hair spread wildly over the back of it, unable to struggle, at his mercy. The quiet, dimly lit living room was filled with their overlapping, relentless breaths, growing more, intense, until Lizetta’s cellphone on the coffee table abruptly rang.
Remington seemed to be jolted back to reality by the ringtone. He lifted his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing, trying to catch his breath.
Lizetta turned her head away, eyes closed, more tears rolling down, shining clearly in the soft light.
Remington looked down at her, his voice hoarse and mocking. “You’re the one who showed up in the middle of the night, ready to demean yourself, and you have the nerve to cry!”
