Chapter 121 Not Enough
Layla eyed him curiously. "Are you taking me out?"
"Yeah. Two days at home, wouldn't you get cabin fever?"
Samuel gently caressed her hair, an affectionate gesture accompanied by a captivating, soft smile.
"But do we have to wear formal attire just for a drive?"
"We're attending a dinner function."
"A dinner? But I've never been to one of those. What if I mess up and embarrass you?" Layla expressed her concern. "Maybe you could bring..."
"Are you suggesting I bring someone else?" Samuel raised his eyebrow, with a hint of danger.
"I mean, bring Mr. Vandella."
"I don't usually bring male companions to my events."
Suppressing a laugh, Layla couldn't help but imagine the sight of two sharp-dressed men linking arms at the gala.
She laughed unabashedly.
"Keep it clean up there," Samuel said with a light tap on her forehead.
"I'm not thinking anything."
Yeah, right. How could Samuel not sense that her mind was filled with various ideas?
"We have one more hour. Get ready."
"Okay."
An hour later...
Downstairs, Samuel stood in the foyer, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, the epitome of poise and regal confidence. He raised his hand, adjusting his cufflinks.
The staff was bustling around, straightening his suit, their cheeks flushed. The male bodyguard was strikingly handsome - it seemed there was no man more perfect in the world.
"Miss Adkins is ready," Mr. Morris announced, looking visibly surprised.
Jovan turned around to meet those starry eyes and felt his heart squeeze.
She was breathtakingly pure.
Upstairs, Layla, in a white V-neck chiffon minidress, accentuated her slender waistline. Her fair skin shimmered beneath the delicate fabric, fresh and ethereal like an unstained white lotus, captivating to behold.
It wasn't until she shyly tugged at his jacket that Samuel came back from his daze.
Amidst a crowd of attractive people, he was captivated by her as if he were a smitten young man.
"Layla's ears reddened under his intense gaze. Trying to mask her shyness, she teased, “I know I look good, but you don't have to stare.”
"I can't get enough. I don't want others to see you," Samuel said, his voice hoarse. His eyes lingered on her blushing skin and beautiful collarbones. Her porcelain skin seemed even more enticing against the glow of the blush.
He wanted to hide her beauty away, just for himself.
"You're incredibly beautiful," Samuel murmured as he pulled her into his embrace, kissing her passionately.
"Mmm..." Layla's eyes fluttered open; she wanted to resist but gradually melted into his arms. All she could hear was the man's wild heartbeat and heavy breathing.
As the kiss ended, she was left panting, her moist lips softly exhaling breaths.
With so many pairs of eyes around, she wished she could crawl into a hole and hide.
Samuel was clearly not satisfied, holding her waist and chuckling indulgently, "You haven't gained weight, even lost some."
"Let's go."
"Okay." Layla didn't dare to meet Mr. Morris's or anyone else's gaze, keeping her head down as she followed.
Sitting in the car, Samuel still looked at her like a wolf eyeing its prey, causing Layla to feel a tingling weakness. She licked her lips and cleared her throat, "What kind of dinner is this? A charity event?"
"Hmm?"
"You'll see when we get there."
"Oh, can you please stop looking at me like that?" Layla's cheeks were as red as ripe tomatoes, she averted her eyes to avoid his gaze which seemed to scorch her to ashes.
"You're tempting me," Samuel said as he tilted her chin up and kissed her again, hard and unyielding, with a playful bite that accompanied his insistent lips. Only when Layla was gasping for air, making muffled sounds of protest, did he release her with a final nibble on her lip.
"You... you..." Layla feigned annoyance, her eyes and tone radiating coquettish defiance, which made Samuel's desires surge uncontrollably. He gritted his teeth and declared, "Tonight, you're mine!"
It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.
Layla's heart skipped a beat. "I... I'm pregnant."
"I know. I'll be gentle."
But his expression seemed anything but gentle.
Layla hesitated, fearfully suggesting, "Maybe we should wait until after the baby is born..."
"Ten months? Are you trying to kill me?" Samuel's eyes widened in mock horror. "In ten months, I'll be dead, suffocated by you!"
Layla didn't know how to respond.
Her heart raced, as it seemed inevitable what was to come.
Resigned, she thought, better to face what's inevitable - a swift ending is better than prolonged suffering.
Observing her determined yet resigned expression, Samuel couldn't help but feel a mixture of irritation and amusement. "It's not a punishment, you know. Don't forget, you've found pleasure with me before..."
"I... I did not. All I remember is the pain," Layla retorted shyly, biting her lip.
"You may not recall, but I remember very clearly. You were holding me tightly..."
"Okay, okay, let's not talk about it," Layla quickly interrupted, "I get it."
As she inwardly cursed his machismo, Samuel gently laid his hand over hers, a soft squeeze offering comfort.
Her heart trembled at his unexpected tenderness.
Looking up at him, she found his eyes warm and sincere.
"If you don't want to, I won't force you. But I don't want you to see this as a burden either. This should be a joyful experience."
Her heart melted at his words.
The Bentley rolled into the suburbs, approaching a stately manor.
Armed soldiers stood guard at the gate, and luxury cars streamed in and out.
Peering out the window with a mix of curiosity and nervousness, Layla whispered, “What is this place? It's like those mysterious mansions of the powerful I've only seen in movies.”
"It's the Holland estate," Samuel stated.
Layla's eyes bulged in surprise, "The Holland family? As in your family?"
"Yeah. Tonight's Lucy's 40th birthday celebration," Samuel mentioned casually.
Lucy?
Vincent's mother?
Recalling the woman with the chilling aloofness, whose eyes seemed to perpetually gaze down at everyone from atop her head, Layla felt a surge of distaste.
"Why are we here for her birthday?"
She had no desire to see her, nor to run into Vincent, that lowlife.
"Isn't there a saying? You've got to meet the in-laws at some point," Samuel chimed in with a jest, attempting to lighten her mood.
Layla kind of got his drift, but a public outing like this could spark a whirlwind of drama...
"I'm not mentally prepared for this."
"No need, just stay by my side. I, Samuel, don't make a habit of hiding my woman."
"I know, but..."
"Didn't you say you wanted to face everything with me?" he said, grasping her hand firmly, interlocking his fingers with hers. His gaze was steady and confident.
Overwhelmed with emotions, Layla was silent for a while.
The Bentley pulled to a stop.
"If you truly don't want to go in, then..."
She shook her head, her eyes suddenly resolute, "I have to face it eventually. I don't want to run away."
Avoiding it once would lead to a second and a third time; she didn't want to be a chronic deserter, retreating in defeat.
Having made the decision to confront everything alongside him, she was prepared to face any challenges head-on.
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