Chapter 85

Alexander's POV

I had just stepped out of the bathroom when I heard the doorbell ringing incessantly. Luke was nowhere to be found—I had no idea where he'd gone off to despite my calls.

With a towel still in my left hand, I opened the door to find Scarlett standing awkwardly outside, blinking those big eyes of hers—the same look she always gave when trying to get her way.

I knew she wouldn't show up here without reason, especially after Richard's "disciplinary session" with her.

"I didn't expect to see you. Come to say your goodbyes early?" I smiled, stepping forward as my gaze lingered on the curves of her body perfectly outlined by her dress. To my surprise, Scarlett shoved me, but I caught the edge of her dress as I lost balance, and we both tumbled onto the carpet.

The red wine in my hand spilled everywhere, staining my bathrobe and her dress.

"So eager?" I pinched the soft flesh at her waist, feeling her body instantly tense beneath my touch.

I couldn't help making these intimate gestures toward her, though I knew they made her uncomfortable.

Scarlett struggled to get up, but my arm had already encircled her waist.

I could feel her breathing grow rapid, her cheeks flushing—a reaction that gave me immense satisfaction.

Richard had tried every trick in the book but failed to truly tame this little wildcat, yet here she was, trembling in my arms.

"No..." she answered softly, but her body betrayed her words.

I tilted my head, carefully studying the shifting expressions on her face.

I couldn't help but watch her; when she pretended in front of others, she was like an open book to me, but sometimes, looking directly into her eyes, I could only sense bottomless depths.

My hand moved from her waist to her cheek, my fingertips gently caressing her delicate skin.

"What made you suddenly change your mind and come to me behind Richard's back?"

"All animals have survival instincts. In all of Silverlight City, only you can offer me protection."

She narrowed her eyes, adopting a submissive demeanor, deliberately emphasizing the word "protection." Did she think I would go easy on her if she just played along? How naive—I almost burst out laughing.

"You hardly qualify as an 'animal beneficial to humans.'"

I paused, then lifted her directly upstairs.

She was lighter than I'd imagined, truly like a small cat. My clothes were stained with wine and needed washing, and Scarlett didn't look too clean either.

I watched as she boldly untied the belt around my waist.

Her face was flushed pink, revealing a touch of endearing innocence. "May I shower with you?"

"Asking permission so obediently doesn't sound like you." I removed my robe and walked barefoot into the bathroom, immediately hearing light footsteps behind me.

Mocking words escaped my lips: "Don't think you can use the same tactics on me that you use on Richard."

"Then what do you like? I can learn," she peeked from behind me, asking matter-of-factly, like a diligent student.

"You're willing to learn anything?" I smiled, my gaze taking on a hint of seduction.

Her expression suddenly turned hesitant, her eyes darting around, clearly lost in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" I pinched her cheek, not wanting her to be distracted.

"Do you treat other women this way too?" she asked softly. From her position, this wasn't a question she had any right to ask.

I suddenly understood what she was thinking and paused before breaking into laughter.

I sat sideways on the edge of the bathtub, one foot propped up. "You think I'm dirty?"

"No, no! That's not what I meant!" She waved her hands frantically, rushing to explain. "How could I think that? I just..."

"Your thoughts are always written all over your face. How does Obsidian Palace trust someone like you who can't hide their true thoughts to carry out missions?"

At the mention of Obsidian Palace, I saw her body tremble slightly, as if frozen in place.

"Come here," I beckoned with my finger.

She bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering with hesitation before finally lowering her head and obediently walking over to stand before me.

"You just said you were willing to learn anything for me, but now you can't even take initiative?"

I leaned down toward her neck, inhaling deeply, my voice involuntarily becoming husky. "The old man Richard hasn't touched you these past few days?"

She nodded, and I could feel her body's slight trembling—an instinctive response to painful memories being evoked.

"What's wrong, did Richard's torture leave you unsatisfied?" I deliberately asked in a playful tone.

She lowered her eyes, her voice barely audible. "Since that time... he hasn't..."

"After that beating, the old man lost interest in you?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," she admitted quietly, her eyes dimming. "Even during the usual times..."

"Even when you were suffering so badly you felt like dying, he ignored you?" I finished her sentence, with a hint of mockery in my voice.

"He said I disgusted him," she whispered, her voice filled with humiliation.

My finger poked her full chest, my smile deepening.

We were so close, close enough that I could feel her breathing become rapid, a thin blush spreading across her face.

I just stared at her silently. Her eyes couldn't meet mine directly, yet she couldn't help stealing glances at my face.

My lips moved, whispering that I wanted milk...

Her body immediately tensed.

Everyone says my health is poor, but my performance with her clearly suggested otherwise. I seemed to have endless energy to expend on her.

My fingers traced over her skin, feeling every trembling inch. Her gasps echoed through the room, sometimes suppressed, sometimes abandoned, as if trapped between self-control and desire, unable to break free.

Finally, she had to beg for mercy. "No more, please! Enough! Really, enough!" Her voice was broken with exhaustion, her hair sticking messily to her sweat-dampened forehead and cheeks.

Her nails had almost embedded themselves in my skin.

I saw those eyes—usually so full of calculation—now brimming with tears, like shattered glass reflecting chaotic light.

"Not enough! How could it be enough? There's still nothing in your belly!"

My final sentence seemed to completely destroy her psychological defenses, and her hands fell limply.