Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 334

Max was cautious around her wounds, not daring to let her soak in the bath for too long. He washed her swiftly, then carefully lifted her and placed her on the bed.

After ensuring she was settled, he turned and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower himself. He emerged shortly after, pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms and tying the drawstring at his waist. His physique was striking–broad shoulders, narrow waist–and as water dripped from his damp hair, he exuded an undeniable allure.

A knock came at the door. It was Wesley. “Sir, Ms. Alivia has called. She seems quite anxious and hopes you can join her abroad as soon as possible.”

Max paused in the act of drying his hair and opened the door to issue a command, “Fetch some antiseptic cream.”

Wesley nodded, and within a minute, he handed the cream to Max.

Max turned back, taking hold of Brielle’s foot, and gently applied the ointment to the fine cuts that had not become inflamed after soaking. After smoothing the cream over her wounds and additional spots on her legs, he went to wash his hands. Upon his return, his phone rang. He answered, massaging his temple, which throbbed with tension.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in two hours.”

He hung up and looked down at Brielle, whose dark hair fanned across the pillow, contrasting with her skin like a fallen fairy in the night.

Max swallowed hard and called out

“Brielle?”

slowly opened her eyes, her gaze quietly meeting his. No words were exchanged, just a silent space

misted over as she looked at Max.

ear. He intended to leave after that simple gesture, but Brielle bit down on his fingertip. There was a tiny imprint where her teeth

hitched, and he inhaled deeply, attempting to pull away. But she wrapped her arms around his waist, and her lips found the tense muscles of his torso through the open

frost in his gaze began to melt, revealing a fervor as red as blooming blossoms. He leaned in, pulling

her back to her senses; the fog in her eyes cleared. “Mmm,” she managed,

Chapter 334

Brielle clung

deep, raspy whisper,

of what she had just done. Her embarrassment caused her fingers to curl

meeting with the Intensity of lightning striking dry timber. Eventually, Brielle opened her mouth and bit down

hair aside and taking her wrist in his hand, tracing upward until their fingers intertwined, sending a

the upward curl of her lashes looked like a dangerously intoxicating bloom,

to come back,” he murmured hazily into her ear.

looked up at him; her long lashes were reminiscent of a bird’s feathers. Max dropped his gaze and was hooked once again as their lips