The villa usually stands empty. The French windows in the living room were half-open, letting the afternoon sunlight stream in, casting a warm glow. It illuminated Andrew’s chiseled features vividly, while Isabella, chin slightly raised, stared at him, inexplicably thinking of the phrase ‘captivating charm.’
At that moment, their bodies were tightly pressed together. He lowered his head slightly, the distance between his thin lips and hers less than a centimeter.
“Missed me?” He asked gently.
“Nope.” Isabella blushed, her words contradicting her feelings.
He narrowed his blue eyes, gazing deeply at her for a moment before another passionate kiss ensued.
Isabella’s hands clutched his shirt as he kissed her, leaving her dizzy. Unbeknownst to her, she was effortlessly swept into the spacious and soft leather couch in the living room.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Although Andrew had only fucked her once, his dominating presence was torturous.
Afterward, she lay with her back to him, still catching her breath.
“Are all male wolves as sexually charged as you?”
“We are possessive of women we love.” His lips touched her as he spoke, then he got up.
After Andrew returned from freshening up, he pulled her back into his embrace and whispered near her ear, “Miss me?”
“Not at all, not at all, not at all.” Isabella turned around, lightly thumping his firm chest with her small fist.
Andrew grabbed her restless hand, pinned her down, and teasingly said, “You little fibber.”
“You’re the fibber! Andrew, do you want me or just sex?”
“I want to make love to you,” Andrew replied earnestly.
Men, as long as they’re healthy in body and mind, never stop desiring such matters. Andrew, however, wasn’t someone who would easily settle, otherwise, he wouldn’t have waited over twenty years for someone like her.
Isabella: “…”
She turned her back on him again, refusing to engage further.
He chuckled softly and approached her once more, kissing her tenderly on her fragrant shoulders.
“Andrew, if you dare again, I won’t talk to you.” She grumbled in annoyance.
“Just wanted to hold you,” he embraced her, chin resting on her head, gently caressing.
She adjusted her body in his arms, finding a comfortable position, drifting into drowsiness.
“Won’t you wash up before sleeping?” he asked.
“I’m tired, I don’t want to move.”
“I’ll carry you to wash up,” he suggested, but Isabella stopped him, placing her hand on his chest.
She could almost predict that entering the bathroom with him would only lead to one outcome: being tormented by this male wolf.
“Not washing up. If you’re bothered, go sleep in the next room,” Isabella mumbled, lying lazily on the pillow.
Andrew leaned closer, sniffing her neck, chuckled softly, “You smell like me all over. Not bad.”
Wolves like to mark their things with their own scent, to proclaim ownership to others of the same kind. Her body now bore his scent, deterring other werewolves from approaching her, probably.
Her cheeks reddened again. She glared at him, pulled the blanket over her head, and fell asleep!
She slept straight through until the evening, waking up when it was already dark outside.
The room was dimly lit by a night lamp, emitting a warm yellow light. She lazily stared at the ceiling for a while after waking up, not in the mood to move.
She heard the sound of the door opening and knew it was Andrew. Lazily, she asked, “What time is it?”
“It’s almost seven. Get up and have dinner,” Andrew said.
“What’s on the menu?” Isabella sat up from the bed and put on some clothes.
“Italian-style baked shrimp, charcoal-grilled lamb chops, salmon salad, and duck soup,” Andrew replied.
Isabella’s eyes lit up, and she quickly put on her shoes, her appetite thoroughly aroused.
The two of them had dinner in the dining room. Isabella mostly kept her head down, eating with chopsticks, while Andrew took care of serving her and topping up her soup. He made sure to remove the fish bones before placing the meat in Isabella’s bowl.
She focused on eating and provided comments, “Andrew, your fish is the best. The lamb chops were slightly overcooked, and the duck soup is a bit bland; it could use a little more salt.”
Despite not being adept at cooking, she was quite the discerning food critic.
“Andrew, I humbly accept criticism and will do better next time,” he replied.
“Okay.” Andrew chuckled helplessly, then stuffed a tender and fragrant piece of lamb chop into her mouth.
After dinner, Isabella went back to her room to shower. Still not changing into fresh clothes, she picked out one of Andrew’s shirts from the closet. She had almost developed an addiction to wearing his shirts.
After her shower, she walked out of the bathroom barefoot, drying her damp long hair as she headed into the study.
Andrew received a call from his assistant, Nathan, about some urgent documents that needed his attention.
Seated at the large desk, Andrew, with clean and slender fingers, worked the mouse, his gaze fixed on the laptop screen.
Isabella lazily leaned against the study door, towel-drying her hair while watching him.
Andrew quickly finished the urgent tasks and looked up. “I bought women’s slippers for you, but you’re still barefoot. You haven’t even dried your hair. Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold?”
She languidly walked into the study, stood behind him, and wrapped her arm around his neck. “Are the official tasks done?”
“Yes.” He smiled and encircled her waist, pulling her into his embrace.
She sat on his lap, her soft arms twined around his neck.
He took the towel from her hand and dried her hair.
Isabella glanced casually out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The study faced a bed of roses; this season, the flowers hadn’t completely withered yet. It was quite a sight, all pink and vibrant.
“This place is quite nice,” she remarked.
“What’s good about it?” he asked with a smile.
“Suitable for clandestine affairs,” she teasingly drawled.
He shook his head with a laugh, holding her hand and asking, “How long do you plan on keeping me as your secret lover?”
“Depends on the situation and your performance,” she casually replied, her eyes shifting to the computer screen in front of her as she moved the mouse and clicked on a webpage.
Charles’s company’s new movie had been released and was currently showing in theaters. She typically checked the box office figures every day.
The film was usually a box office success, and currently, the movie in which Isabella starred had the highest box office earnings.
“It’s doing well,” Andrew commented.
“Its box office exceeded one billion in three days. How much do you stand to make?” she asked curiously.
“The profit margin varies for each film, and besides, the Turner family’s conglomerate doesn’t directly benefit from profits. Charles oversees our investment company, which is not a subsidiary,” he explained.
She blinked, feeling a little dizzy from the explanation.
He lightly smiled. “If you’re interested, I’ll send you a report once the numbers are calculated.”
“You might as well send me the financial report of the Turner family conglomerate; I’m more interested in that,” she said casually.
He didn’t say anything but covered her fair hand with his own, moving the mouse to open a folder and then sending the files to her email.
“The financial report from last quarter, take a look when you have time,” he suggested.
She blinked her clear eyes in surprise. “I was just kidding.”
“I’m serious,” Andrew’s blue eyes focused on her intently.
“Okay,” Isabella averted her gaze under his intense stare. She felt a bit reluctant to meet his eyes, as if she might unintentionally get lost in them. She held her face in her hands, feeling her cheeks warm.
His strong arms wrapped around her delicate waist. In the dim light, he leaned down and kissed her.
Isabella passively let him kiss her. Andrew’s kissing skills improved, leaving her feeling a bit dizzy and overwhelmed.
“Wait, this is the study.”
Subsequently, he carried her back to the bedroom. Just as she was thrown onto the bed, she suddenly felt a chill on her chest. It dawned on her that her clothes had been removed by him and lay on the floor. His weight pressed against her, ready to act.
Her cheeks blushed slightly, and she instinctively covered her chest with her hands. “Andrew, not like this, I’m tired.”
She softly murmured, pleading.
“No, you can’t just say that now. You’re deliberately teasing me.” Andrew’s lips were still on her soft, tender red lips, kissing and caressing, but he didn’t go any further.
After the embrace, he lay beside her, holding her and gradually calming his breath.
“So, Isabella, will you marry me?”
He didn’t care about the Harris family or her father causing trouble for him. Right now, he only wanted to possess her, make her his Luna, his wife.
“Well, I…” She was still thinking, hesitant to refuse him again.
“Is it okay?” Without getting her answer, he gently urged her again, his tone tinged with a hint of coaxing, nearly melting Isabella’s heart.
“I think… yes, I can.”
“That’s wonderful.” He smiled.
“No, wait, we need a formal proposal ceremony, and I still need to see how you perform.” Isabella quickly backtracked, playfully blinking at Andrew.
“Of course, I won’t let you down.” Andrew smiled, kissing Isabella’s forehead.
He knew this was just the beginning. Due to their differences in identity and race, he and Isabella would encounter more difficulties in the future. However, he wasn’t afraid because their hearts were already tightly intertwined.
Moreover, he wouldn’t give her a chance to escape.
End