?Chapter 328:


    Elena rarely allowed herself to smile, perpetually maintaining her calm demeanor, as if nothing in this world could truly touch her.


    Yet for those she cared about, she would plead with him without hesitation, and act with a boldness that bordered on recklessness.


    She possessed a tenacious vitality, a fierce devotion that she bestowed wholly upon those fortunate enough to earn her favor.


    This was something Wesley had never experienced before.


    Throughout his twenty-some years, he had never been the recipient of such devotion.


    His eardrums throbbed as an unfamiliar feeling blossomed within him, quickening his heartbeat.


    Wesley’s gaze traveled from herposed eyes, along her straight nose, finally resting on her red lips.


    Thest time Earle had poisoned him, Elena’s image had surfaced in his mind uninvited.


    He’d dismissed it as his body’s reaction to the drug, nothing more.


    Butter…


    Elena had be an unbidden guest in his dreams, appearing with persistent regrity night after night.


    In those dreams, he would kiss those red lips repeatedly, discovering them to be impossibly soft against his own…


    Wesley’s breathing grew increasinglybored, a subtle crimson tinge coloring the corners of his eyes as warmth gradually spread throughout his body.


    When Elena finished stitching Wesley’s wound and was about to wrap it with gauze, her hand identally brushed against something hard and hot.


    Her gaze shifted downward, and she realized he had be aroused at some point during the procedure.


    Elena was momentarily taken aback, her brows gradually knitting together in confusion.


    She had forgotten to use anesthesia earlier and had stitched him up directly with nothing to dull the pain.


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    Under such intense difort, he still managed to be aroused?


    Was Wesley perhaps a masochist?


    Elena harbored no prejudice against others’ preferences, but she had already mentally categorized him as having rather unique proclivities.


    Wesley, oblivious to her internal assessment, saw her frown and mistook it for disgust.


    His eyes darkened as he struggled to suppress the startling desire burning within him.


    When he spoke, his voice emerged rough and unnaturally deep. “I’ll handle the rest myself. You go drive.”


    He couldn’t maintain control over his desire.


    His self-control, which he prided himself on, crumbled in front of Elena.


    Never before had he been a man governed by physical urges.


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