Chapter 127 Biting His Adam’s Apple
If it wasn’t for the first reason, then what could it possibly be?
Corrine’s gaze narrowed, suspicion flickering in the depths of her eyes.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that her grandfather was keeping something significant from her.
Could there be some hidden truth about her, buried deep beneath the surface?
Her thoughts churned, a tangled mix of confusion and frustration. She raised a hand, pinching the bridge of her nose as if trying to push away the storm of questions swirling in her mind.
“Corrine, don’t you think I deserve a proper explanation?” Nate’s deep voice resonated
behind her, carrying an ominous chill.
His words snapped her back to the present moment.
She turned to find him unbuttoning his suit jacket and tugging at his tie with growing
irritation.
The more he pulled, the tighter it became, his impatience manifesting in the deepening
furrow of his brow.
“Would you like some help?” she offered, her tone gentle and placating.
Nate paused at her words, decisively shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the
nearby sofa. He stood silently, awaiting her approach.
Drawing a measured breath, Corrine stepped forward and reached for his tie.
The deep blue silk felt luxuriously smooth beneath her fingers.
The knot, likely tightened by his earlier frustration, required careful manipulation to
loosen.
Unconsciously, she drew closer, her slender fingers working at the stubborn fabric.
Nate observed her within the circle of his arms, intoxicated by her subtle fragrance.
Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings, Her features captivated him–the delicate nose, the rounded chin that lent her face such youthful charm.
Her quiet concentration enchanted him.
His arm encircled her slim waist, drawing her closer.
Corrine retreated instinctively, like a wary cat.
Nate’s eyebrow arched upward, dark eyes glinting dangerously as he gazed at her, his dominant aura closing in.
She continued backing away until her heel caught the sofa’s edge, sending her tumbling backward.
Her fingers, still hooked in his tie, pulled him down with her.
Nate braced himself on the sofa, one knee planted beside her, his arms caging her head. His tall frame enveloped her completely.
“Planning to apologize through actions?” His voice, though cold, carried a seductive undertone that resonated like a drumbeat in her heart.
“It was just an accident. Could you please get up?”
“No!” His swift refusal accompanied his descent until his lips barely grazed her cheek. “Corrine, you make me feel insecure.”
“You’re a man; why do you need a sense of security?”
The concept seemed distinctly feminine to her.
A smirk played across his lips as his well–defined fingers tilted her chin upward, his thumb caressing her lips. “Because I care deeply, I worry constantly.”
His words left her speechless, offering no room for argument.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“To leave my mark.”
Before she could process his meaning, he lowered his head and bit the sensitive skin of
her neck.
His warm breath against her skin felt like a brand.
Satisfaction darkened his eyes as he observed the mark, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Now that you bear my mark, I feel secure.”
Corrine maintained her composure, regarding him silently.
Then, without warning, she tightened her grip on his tie, pulled him closer, and sank her teeth into his Adam’s apple.
