?<strong>Chapter 1293:</strong>


    Cliff’s gaze remained unfathomable as he bent to capture her lips. His expertise was evident—whatever techniques he’d mastered worked their magic, melting away her fear and anger like snow in sunshine.


    Sensing herplete surrender, he gradually released his hold.


    Though Laney’s eyes were open, tears blurred her vision into a kaleidoscope of colors. As she felt him withdraw, she reached out blindly, her lips parted in unconscious yearning. Cliff observed her reaction with a knowing smirk.


    When rity finally returned to Laney’s mind, the sight of his amused expression sent color flooding to her cheeks. Muffled curses escaped her lips.


    Cliff encircled her once more, this time binding his own wrists with the crimson ribbon.


    “Why are you restraining yourself?” Laney asked, running her tongue across her sensitized lips.


    “So you can have your way with me,” he replied smoothly.


    Initially, his words seemed sincere to Laney. But then reality dawned—her position left her equally trapped.


    “What are you really nning, Cliff?” Fear crept into her voice.


    He secured the ribbon with a decisive knot. Brushing a kiss against the tip of her nose, he whispered, “Letting you take control.”


    What followed were sounds of distress echoing through the steam-filled bathroom.


    Despite Cliff’s gentleness and constant reassurance during her first experience, the pain proved overwhelming. Laney wanted no part of hisfort—she yearned only for escape, but the ribbon held fast, unyielding to her struggles.


    “You liar,” she choked out between sobs.


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    “I’ll never care for you again, Cliff!”


    “Very well,” he replied with practiced indifference.


    “You won’t care for me anymore.”


    Her raw vulnerability captivated himpletely. Cliff felt poised on an emotional precipice—one step from either salvation or damnation. As moments stretched into minutes, Laney’s resistance gradually faded into quiet eptance.


    Studying her tear-stained face, Cliff’s mind wandered to their first encounter at the Hopkins estate. She had hidden shyly behind her mother, her voice barely above a whisper: “Cliff, I’m Laney.”


    He had responded with formal politeness: “Mm, I’m your cousin. From now on, you’re like a sister to me.”


    Four years had transformed everything. Now, he imed her as his own.


    “From this moment forward, you belong to me, my love,” he breathed against her skin.


    Forbidden pleasures had transformed Cliff into someone Laney barely recognized.


    In his lucid moments, Cliff was the embodiment of kindness—devotedly caring for his younger family members and helping others without seeking recognition.


    Yet, after experiencing the intoxicating sensation of being with Laney, his desires evolved into an endless void, a bottomless pit that consumed his very soul.


    Laney, innocent and delicate as morning dew, crumbled under his intensity after their first encounter, surrenderingpletely to his will.


    Though his words dripped with honey, his actions made it clear that he had no intentions of stopping, deaf to her tearful pleas.


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