Chapter 1244 Almost Losing Control
Randy's hands tightened involuntarily on Stella's shoulders. Every rational thought screamed at him to push her away, yet his body refused to obey. Worse still, he found himself consumed by a desire he had no right to feel—the overwhelming urge to claim her as his own.
No. Stella was his cousin. He couldn't allow himself to harbor such forbidden thoughts.
But God help him, he was drowning in the sensation. Her inexperienced, fumbling kisses only stoked the fire burning within him, making him want to cradle the back of her head and show her what a real kiss could be. This wild, uncontrollable hunger was something he'd never felt—not even with Andrea.
Randy watched helplessly as he spiraled deeper into temptation, reason and desire waging war in his mind. Just as lust threatened to triumph over logic, a sharp pain shot through his lip, making him gasp and yanking his sanity back from the brink.
He touched his thumb to his mouth—it came away bloody.
The culprit stood before him, pouting and covering her own mouth with both hands, tears welling in her eyes as she whimpered, "You bit me! You bit me!"
He hadn't bitten anyone—she'd knocked her teeth against his lip. She'd injured him, yet somehow she was the one playing victim.
Stella swayed unsteadily, her legs giving way like she was walking on air. Randy caught her before she could hit the floor, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing against him as she continued her tearful accusations.
"You bit me, and now my mouth hurts. You don't dote on me anymore."
She nuzzled against his chest as she spoke, and Randy felt his blood ignite. He knew if this continued much longer, he'd lose all control. Desperately, he tried to pry her arms away and create some distance, but without his support, she nearly collapsed again.
Left with no choice, he pulled her back into his arms, not daring to let go this time.
Stella tilted her face up to his, lips still pouting as she said pitifully, "Look, my lip is bleeding."
Under the bright overhead light, he could see a small cut on her lower lip, slightly swollen and raw.
"Blow on it," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Mommy always said blowing makes the hurt go away."
Randy couldn't help but laugh softly. "You're such a child sometimes."
But Stella was relentless, squirming in his arms and repeating her request. Afraid her continued protests might disturb other guests, Randy finally gave in and gently blew on the small wound.
"Better now?"
A satisfied smile spread across her face. "Much better. Blowing really does work."
Randy sighed deeply, about to suggest she go to bed, when Stella suddenly stood on her tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck, resting her chin in the hollow of his throat.
Her warm breath ghosted across his sensitive skin while her intoxicating scent filled his nostrils. The soft curves of her body pressed against him through the thin fabric of her clothes, awakening something primal and dangerous within him.
An electric current seemed to shoot through Randy's body, making his spine stiffen and cold sweat break out across his forehead.
Did Stella have any idea what she was doing to him? Was this how she behaved every time she drank? He'd have to ban alcohol from her life entirely—the thought of her acting this way around another man was unbearable.
"My head is spinning," she murmured against his ear. "I feel awful, like there's a weight crushing my chest."
Randy shook his head violently, trying to dispel his inappropriate thoughts, and wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her steady.
"You've had too much to drink. Let me help you to bed—just be good and stop fighting me."
Surprisingly, Stella nodded obediently.
Randy intended to walk her to the bedroom, but she was completely limp, her entire weight hanging on him. After a moment's hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her bridal-style.
She curled against his chest like a contented cat, docile and trusting.
"One minute you're chaos incarnate, the next you're an angel," he murmured, gazing down at her with infinite tenderness and indulgence.
Randy carried her to the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed, then fetched a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean her face and hands.
Just as he thought she'd settled down for the night, Stella suddenly sat bolt upright. Randy's heart nearly stopped, expecting another round of singing and dancing, but she merely raised her hand in a toasting gesture.
"Cheers! Let's keep drinking!"
Then she flopped back down, smacking her lips contentedly as she drifted off.
Watching her sleep so peacefully, Randy hesitated before deciding to stay. He couldn't risk her waking up and causing a scene. After tucking the covers around her, he settled by the window, leaning against the wall with one knee drawn up, his arm resting casually across it as he gazed out at the night.
From their top-floor suite, he couldn't see the bustling streets below—only an endless canopy of stars stretching across the sky.
When was the last time he'd simply sat and appreciated the night like this?
The chaos Stella had stirred in his heart finally began to settle. But when he turned to look at her sleeping form, his composure shattered all over again.
Against the pristine white pillows, her dark hair fanned out like silk, framing her delicate features and making her appear even more ethereal in the moonlight.
His pulse quickened once more.
Randy unconsciously touched the spot where her teeth had broken his skin, the memory of their near-miss flooding back. He drew a shaky breath, closed his eyes, and let his head fall back against the wall.
This had to stop.
Stella was his cousin—they shared blood. These feelings were wrong, impossible, forbidden.
He had to maintain proper boundaries and never again allow himself to cross the line that separated them.
A man coveting his own cousin—it was morally reprehensible. This wasn't some bygone era where such relationships might be overlooked. The family connection between them was an insurmountable barrier.
He couldn't continue letting his emotions run wild. He had to exercise control.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting shadows across his face and rendering his expression unreadable in the silvery darkness.
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