My Bossy CEO Husband by Symon Diller

Tilda cast a sidelong glance at Lyndon, who hovered at the periphery.

“You should go now.

I can manage on my own,” she said firmly.

Lyndon, with a subtle smile, advanced and began to undo the buttons of her loungewear.

Tilda, taken aback, swiftly intervened, her hand darting out to halt his movements.

“No, I’ve got this,” she protested, wincing as she inadvertently agitated her wound.

Lyndon’s expression softened, concern coloring his tone.

“Why must you always be so headstrong? We’ve been this close before.

There’s no need for modesty now,” he chided gently.

faltered, her cheeks tinged with

close before,

She was still embarrassed.

AngelasLibrary

Lyndon continued, a hint of amusement in his voice, “as a screenwriter who’s penned numerous scenes and witnessed countless more,

”

Tilda got caught off-guard.

and scripts, but that didn’t mean she’d no longer mind what Lyndon was

her lips as Lyndon’s hands resumed their

her skin, sending a shiver down her

gaze lingered on her chest,

abruptly, shielding her front from

you please not stare? It’s different being the subject rather than the

her undergarments, her delicate frame was illuminated by the soft lighting, highlighting the smoothness of her skin- an image both fragile and

made one want to hold