Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 1183:

For several nights in a row, he’d used his “wounds” as the perfect excuse to stay in her room.

The room was dark and quiet, bathed in soft silver light from the moon filtering through the windows. The peaceful glow wrapped around them, warm and intimate.

Norton leaned against the headboard, draped in a loose robe, a book in his hand. Yvonne nestled beside him, adjusting her position delicately to avoid hurting him.

Suddenly, he let out a muffled groan.

She immediately tensed, alarmed. She scrambled to lift the blanket, her voice laced with worry. “Did I touch your wounds? Are you okay?”

Just as her hand reached for the edge of his robe, he caught her wrist. His voice dropped, husky. “No. I’m fine.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her eyes glistened slightly, clouded with concern. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that to stop me from worrying, right?”

help it—a quiet chuckle

in one swift, fluid motion. Yvonne’s eyes widened, stunned. Her mind barely caught

“Actually…

him a light punch on the chest. “You tricked me!” Her cheeks flushed a brilliant

leaving no room for escape. His voice dropped an octave, laced with

that still

darted

his lips brushing her

and slow, claiming and coaxing. It melted her thoughts. Her hands

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inch of her. Clothes slipped away, piece by piece, falling forgotten to the

reverent—like he was holding something rare, something meant