Revenge After Death



Feeling the chilliness on my fingertips as I touched Steven's cheeks, I gently planted another kiss on his lips.

I wanted to forget everything... to leave it all behind. I wanted to lose myself once more.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

"Steven... "Unbuttoning my blouse, I slipped it off and unhooked my bra from behind.

Taken aback by my boldness, Steven's face flushed instantly as he averted his gaze in embarrassment.

"Look at me..." I pressed my forehead against his, picking up where we had left off.

Sensing Steven's attempt to regain control, I used my blouse to tie his hands behind his back.

"Where... did you learn this?" Steven asked, stuttering. His tone was tinged with intimidation despite his flushed cheeks.

"Online," I responded truthfully.

"Don't delve too deeply into that.... frivolous stuff." Steven cleared his throat uneasily, seemingly taken aback by my swift learning.

"Hold on..." As my fingers brushed his waist, Steven halted me. His voice was hoarse from suppressing his desire. "In the left drawer... Condoms."

I narrowed my eyes, grasping his throat as I questioned him, "Why are there condoms here in your secret hideout?"

He'd better give me a good explanation.

Steven averted his gaze, answering honestly, "I... I wanted to hide you here."

I knew he had hidden intentions all along. He'd been plotting to confine me in this basement and fulfill his fantasies with me, hence the condoms!

"I-It's legally allowed... "Steven muttered softly.

"Without my consent, you have no right to imprison me, even if you are my legal husband... " I chuckled, deliberately pressing against him on his lap.

As Steven's breath grew heated, he argued while suppressing his desire, "You begged me to..."

He was referring to the time when I pleaded with him to hide me away from those people.

Perhaps that was the reason he insisted on marrying me, to legitimize his imprisonment of me and to indulge in our intimacy.

I lowered my head, pecking his lips as I said, "Steven Lincoln... help me to forget, even if only for a moment."

"Okay..."

I wasn't sure when he had freed his hands from my blouse. But before I knew it, he had pinned me beneath him and was kissing me with both intensity and tenderness.

"Steve... " I called his name, as if it could momentarily whisk away all my worries.

Indulging in desire was the only time I could escape from all my concerns. I didn't have to think or suspect

anyone.

When Steven finally released me, it was already two in the morning.

"Untie me..." My voice was hoarse as I pulled at my wrists, my eyes reddened from exhaustion.

Clearly, Steven had caught on to the trick I used on him earlier. He ended up tying my hands with rope.

"No." Steven grunted, pulling me into his arms. "You'll run away if I untie you..."

།

"Steven Lincoln..." I called his name through gritted teeth.

He remained still, his hands exploring my body.

"Stephie... I want more..."

"Don't even think about it!" I declined immediately, completely drained after our earlier escapades.

Steven let out a displeased grunt, holding me tightly in his arms.

"Steven Lincoln, I'm warning you... Hurry up and untie me now..."

Seeing that he was ignoring me completely and I was too tired to protest further, I decided to give in. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up in his arms after a sound and secure sleep, my hands had been untied.

I had to admit... Steven was like my antidote. Despite spending the night in his windowless basement with only a ventilation system, I found a sense of security I had never experienced before when I was with him.

"Sir, there's a woman at the door claiming to be Peter Jones' daughter." Ewan's voice echoed through the door as he knocked.

Narrowing my eyes, I shot a glance at Steven, who was still feigning sleep. I tugged on his ear. "Stop pretending,"

Steven reluctantly peeled open his eyes, his voice tinged with a pitiful tone, "Sorry, honey..."

"Peter's daughter?"

I recollected that Peter's eldest daughter, afflicted with congenital cerebral palsy, had passed away. Our guest had to be his younger daughter, born to his current wife. She was also the granddaughter of the director of the asylum.

"Michael is accompanying her," Ewan added.

Furrowing my brows, I pondered the unusual pairing.

"Oh, and Yasmin too," Ewan added swiftly.

Steven sat up begrudgingly. "Next time, summarize it in one breath. And tell Michael and Yasmin to scram as far away as they can."