skin glowed, wless and dewy, as she hugged herself, legs crossed, trembling like a leaf.


    She looked pitiful from above, her curves on full disy 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 uncontrobly to pick up her pants when the man abruptly closed in, hisrge hand sping


    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 des 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 defensespletely shattered, she tried to flee on her knees, only to be pulled back by hisrge


    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 ying 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 vi’s servants were actually around. If they heard amotion in the


    main building, they mighte 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 toe along, but she


    insisted it wasn’t necessary. If only she had known, she would have gone alone, not dragging Ynda


    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 nkly 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.


    This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    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 havee 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 ovepping, 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!”