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.

cheeks

they had been close before,

She was still embarrassed.

AngelasLibrary

“as a screenwriter who’s

”

Tilda got caught off-guard.

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

hands resumed their work, peeling away

her skin, sending a shiver down

on her chest, deepening her

turned away abruptly, shielding her

stare? It’s different being the subject rather than the observer,” she admonished, her voice a mix of irritation

only in her undergarments, her delicate frame was illuminated by the soft lighting, highlighting the smoothness

one want to