Chapter 176 The Temperature in His Palm
Dim yellow light enveloped the room, and Lillian's face flushed, her eyes burning red and her eyelashes trembling incessantly.
Her skin was flawless and moist, her hands embracing herself, legs crossed, shivering.
Her posture made her look pitifully charming. From a high viewpoint, her curves were fully exposed, awkward yet enticing.
Jackson's dark eyes were filled with emotions, while Lillian suddenly lost all courage. Just as she couldn't control herself to bend down to pick up her pants, Jackson approached abruptly, his large palm landing on Lillian's shoulder.
Lillian was startled and looked up to see Jackson, but her long hair swayed before her eyes.
She was pulled by Jackson and forced to kneel on the sofa, his body invading hers from behind.
They had never tried this position before. Lillian couldn't see Jackson, but she could feel his suppressed anger and fierceness.
She completely broke down, trying to move her knees to escape, but his large palm around her slender waist dragged her back.
Their bodies collided with a slight sound.
Lillian was frozen. Jackson leaned over, his breath falling on her trembling back, moving up along her delicate spine.
His lips didn't touch her, but the anticipation was more nerve-wracking than if they had. When his breath reached her ear, a tickling sensation arose, causing Lillian to turn her head away.
Unlike the warmth of his scorching palm, his voice was cold.
"Didn't you offer me sex one last time? You undressed yourself. Why are you hiding now? Do you know how men treat women who show up at their door in the middle of the night?"
Lillian felt no tenderness, only fear, and embarrassment.
Shaking her head, her voice cracked. "No, not here."
Only then did Lillian realize that the villa's servants were around. If they heard any commotion from the main building, they might come to check.
Upon hearing Lillian's ask, Jackson sneered. His large palm wandered up and down her body, making her tremble beneath his touch.
He suddenly asked, "Whose men were the bodyguards taken to the vineyard today?"
Lillian's attention was fixed on his wandering hand. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she replied subconsciously, "They belong to Barry!"
She borrowed those bodyguards from Barry. He wanted to go to the vineyard, too, but she insisted on not allowing it. If she had known, she would have gone alone. Even if Shirley was hard to get rid of, she wouldn't let her get involved.
Lillian was relieved she hadn't let Barry come along. Before she could finish her sentence, Jackson's hand was already in front of her, squeezing firmly.
Lillian cried out, the cold voice of Jackson echoing behind her. "Did you also strip like this in the afternoon to ask him to touch you and help you?"
Lillian froze, feeling as if she had fallen into an icy pit.
She stared blankly at the sofa beneath her, which she had personally chosen, bright and warm in shades of orange, with several throw pillows designed by her.
She used to fantasize about cuddling with Jackson on the sofa, watching idol dramas, and feeding each other snacks.
She also imagined some shameful scenes, like hugs and kisses, but never this kind of humiliation.
What she once eagerly anticipated now felt unbearably cold.
Lillian struggled suddenly, tears silently streaming down her face.
She shouted, "Jackson, you bastard! Let go. I was confused tonight! I shouldn't have come to you, I..."
Before she could finish her angry words, Jackson flipped her over and silenced her with a kiss.
Lillian shook her head in resistance, trying to push him away, but his fingers tightly gripped her, pinning her down on the sofa.
As she lifted her leg, he bent his knee to separate her legs, leaning down to deepen the kiss.
Lillian leaned back on the sofa, her long hair scattered over the back of the chair. She was powerless to resist, allowing him to take what he wanted.
The silent and dim living room was filled with the unending gasps of the two intertwined bodies. The sounds grew hotter and hotter until the ringtone of Lillian's mobile phone on the coffee table suddenly rang out.
As if awakened by the ringtone, Jackson raised his head, his Adam's apple bobbing as he adjusted his breathing.
Lillian turned her head, eyes closed, and tears streamed down her face again. The faint tears reflected the light, which was particularly clear.
Jackson's voice was hoarse and mocking as he looked down at her. "The person who showed up at the door in the middle of the night is you, and you dare to cry!"
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