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

before, but familiarity hadn’t

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, I’d have thought you’d be

”

Tilda got caught off-guard.

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

on her lips as Lyndon’s hands resumed their work, peeling away the fabric of her

her skin, sending a

on her chest, deepening

away abruptly, shielding

not stare? It’s different being the subject rather than the observer,” she admonished, her voice a mix

by the soft lighting, highlighting the smoothness of her skin-

want