Chapter 422 Playing Well (Part 3)
Luke had been hitting the gym for years, and his abs were a sight to behold—eight perfectly chiseled muscles, each groove standing out.
Amber-colored liquor trickled down Luke's abs, flowing from his stomach to his groin, tracing the lines of his muscles.
Elsa's face turned bright red. She held her breath, unable to look away.
"Come here, babe," Luke coaxed in a husky voice, feeling the fire inside him about to ignite.
Elsa stayed put, just staring at him.
"Come here, babe," Luke repeated, reaching out to pull her closer.
"No," Elsa protested, her voice trembling with shame, on the verge of tears.
"Be good," Luke said, holding her head and pressing her against his abs.
"Stick out your tongue, babe. Be good," he urged, his voice rough with desire.
Under his spell, Elsa tentatively stuck out her tongue and gave his abs a shaky lick.
Luke's mind exploded like fireworks, leaving him in a daze.
It was late at night, and despite the excellent soundproofing in every room of the Taylor family mansion, anyone pressing their ear to the study door would hear the sounds that made hearts race and faces flush.
"No, stop, please," Elsa's voice pleaded, tinged with tears.
"Call me 'honey,' babe," Luke insisted.
"No," Elsa cried.
"Be good, call me 'honey,'" Luke persisted. "I won't stop until you do."
"Honey," Elsa finally relented.
"Now kiss me," Luke demanded.
"Quick, kiss me," he repeated, his voice soothing yet commanding.
Elsa's sobs grew louder, followed by Luke's comforting words.
"Good girl, don't cry. I love you," he murmured. "I love you, my good girl."
The next morning, Lisa prepared breakfast and walked in on a familiar scene.
Elsa sat far from Luke, her eyes and nose red, angrily stirring her yogurt and nuts with a spoon.
Gone was her usual aloofness; she looked like a small, bullied rabbit, full of grievances.
Luke glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a smile playing on his lips, his mood surprisingly good.
"Elsa won't have an espresso today. She'll have a hot latte," Luke instructed.
Elsa rolled her eyes. "Are you going to pour it on your abs?"
"If that's what you like, I'd be happy to oblige," Luke's smile widened.
"Get lost," Elsa snapped, blushing furiously, and threw a piece of toast at him.
Meanwhile, Chloe had been drinking heavily at the club, her vision blurring.
"Miss, would you like me to take you home?" A nearby man offered, putting his hand on her waist.
Such a beautiful woman, and so generous—spending the night with her would be a story to brag about for a lifetime.
Chloe was on the verge of throwing up, the alcohol hitting her hard.
"Okay," she slurred, standing up only to stumble and nearly fall.
A strong arm caught her—it was Jonathan.
By the time Jonathan arrived, Elsa had already left with Luke. Chloe was having a great time playing dice and drinking with her male companions.
Surrounded by over twenty men, Chloe sat in the center, one leg draped over the nearest man's lap, laughing radiantly.
Chloe was stunning, a living, breathing work of art, and Jonathan felt a pang in his heart.
She had always been so cautious around him, never this carefree. He had forgotten that a girl raised in luxury like her had every right to be reckless.
Jonathan ordered a drink and watched her from a distance, deciding not to intervene as long as she didn't leave with anyone.
But then she actually called for a male companion to spend the night!
"Were you here earlier? Did I tip you?" Chloe asked, her hand on Jonathan's face as he supported her.
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