You Hit My Heart by Kylie Stanford

Chapter 1996: Soul Pierced

Not long after finishing lunch, Joyce sat for a moment on the couch.

Luther returned on time, within 20 minutes. As soon as he got home, he embraced Joyce, asking, "How are you feeling? Did last night tire you out?"

Joyce gave him a sideways glance. "You have the nerve to ask? My whole body aches."

"I'll give you a massage," Luther said, making an effort to make her happy. His slender fingers gently kneaded her neck, then moved to her back, tracing her delicate curves. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"The back's fine, it's mainly my legs that ache," Joyce pouted. Since he was pampering her, she wanted him to perform well.

"Okay, dear," Luther chuckled, shaking his head, his hands then massaging her slender legs.

Joyce relaxed against him, feeling some relief from the soreness. But his hands seemed to press deeper, and the positioning was becoming more ambiguous.

Finally, she exclaimed and hurriedly grasped his hand. "What are you doing? Don't get carried away!"

Luther raised a seductive eyebrow and continued to explore further, saying, "I didn't do anything unusual, just a normal massage."

his wrist, "Don't play games, don't think I don't know what you're up

her by the neck and pulled her toward him,

Mrs. Hurley and Mrs. Brown passing by, and quickly

and being shameless at home. After

let go of Joyce that

in the

speechless with anger and couldn't

still-flushed countenance as if she were an inflated pufferfish. He

leaned back, her back against the couch, fearful

scared you are," Luther chuckled, "Don't you know? The more you act like this, the more

away, "Didn't you say the people from the

to the reception room. I'll carry you," Luther directly lifted

others to see," Joyce scolded, lightly tapping him,

room, connected to the house while also accessible from outside, making

the middle, accompanied by a marble

to Luther and then approached the sofa. Luther elegantly sat down, crossing his long legs. His cold, starry black eyes seemed

members couldn't help casting a few more glances but dared not overstep their bounds. Their admiration for Joyce was evident as they respectfully spoke, "Mr. Warner, the