The Heartbreak Prescription by Glazed Snow

My Dad Please Come 348

Chapter 348

Stanley felt her small hands wandering over his body, her movements frantic with need. In her haste, she tore one of his buttons clean off.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his larger hand closing over hers to still

her.

"Wendy, slow down. I don't have spare clothes here."

If his shirt got ruined, he'd have nothing else to wear.

But Wendy wasn't cooperating. All she wanted was warmth-more of it, as much as she could get. She slipped her hand free from his grip and buried her face against his neck with a whimper. "I'm so cold...”

Her voice, weakened by illness, came out in a breathy whine, almost childishly sweet.

Not that Stanley needed reminding-even when she wasn't sick, she knew exactly how to melt into him, all soft sighs and pleading whispers in bed.

She had always been a little temptress.

It had been a long time since he had last tasted it due to their divorce.

Stanley clenched his jaw, fighting the urge-and lost. His fingers found the buttons of her blouse, working them open with deliberate slowness.

Then everything spiraled.

He flipped her beneath him, their hands tangling in fabric-his half-shrugged-off white shirt, her clothes being peeled away. The sharp lines of his shoulder blades flexed as he moved, the deep groove of his spine a stark contrast to the smooth, chilled skin of Wendy's fingers as they skated up his back.

When he lowered himself against her, their bodies pressed flush-her skin like ice, his burning with barely leashed hunger. A clash of opposites, raw and electric.

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was dangerous

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the dim silence of this remote village, the heat between them

to dry kindling, consuming everything in its

as if she had

face-the same

without effort. Even now,

caught her chin between his fingers and

into a furnace. The

squirm away, but his weight pinned her in place. Then something

in protest, a muffled whimper catching in her throat.

"G-Get off me..."

outside was dead silent. Stanley had no idea how secure this room really was. Fiona-or anyone-could barge in at

the blanket over them, his voice a rough whisper

to her cheek, then the sensitive curve below her ear,

forming between her brows as she twisted away.

Then-

wildly, and suddenly, her

She was awake.

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thing she saw was Stanley's face-his aristocratic

Why was he here?

as she tried hard