Talented Heiress: A Rose With Thorns

A Rose 508



A Rose 508

Wilson’s breathing grew ragged as he caught Yvette’s wandering hand, his eyes darkening with restrained intensity. If he let her continue, his control would snap like a twig.

Yvette shot him a smug look. “Weren’t you the one who told me to touch you? You can’t handle it, huh?”

Wilson’s restraint finally broke. He pulled her close, capturing her in his arms as his scorching lips claimed her skin. He kissed her neck with fervent lips, leaving a trail of possessive marks, each a bold declaration of his possession.

Yvette gasped, pushing against him.

Wilson reluctantly pulled back. His usually calm, captivating eyes now burned with fierce hunger, and his deep voice was rough with desire.

“Baby, I don’t feel like being a nice person anymore.”

Yvette glanced at her reflection and noticed the new red marks blooming across her collarbone. She lifted her eyes, shooting him a soft glare. “Oh? Being a dog would suit you.”

Wilson let out a low, husky laugh, his fingers tilting her chin up with effortless control.” Calling me a dog now, huh?”

He stretched out the words, each syllable dripping with a dangerously seductive edge that sent tingles through her.

Yvette blinked, feigning innocence. “Well, aren’t you? What else bites like that?” she muttered, knowing she’d need a high–collared top tomorrow to cover all traces.

Before she could protest further, his mouth was on hers again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more consuming, and almost punishing in its intensity. It was as if he was determined to make her regret every teasing word.

By the time Wilson finally released her, Yvette’s eyes were tinged with an alluring red. She felt weak, melting into his warm, broad chest.

“Baby, it hurts there.” His deep, raspy voice brushed against her ear, making her heart race and her cheeks burn with a warmth that seeped to her bones.

Fighting the heat on her face, Yvette pushed him away. “Deal with it yourself.”

Wilson chuckled at the sight of her flushed face before letting go of her slim waist. Though tempted, he wasn’t that much of a beast. He’d wait until she was older. Still, the shower he took earlier now felt utterly pointless.

“Wait for me, baby,” he murmured while struggling to suppress his desires. He then pressed a kiss to her forehead before striding into the bathroom.

Yvette’s cheeks burned even hotter as she watched him go. She had just come by to ask about his grandmother’s preferences for her upcoming birthday. How had it turned into this big of a

mess?

When Wilson returned from his second shower, Yvette was already fast asleep on his bed. Her silky hair fanned out like a halo, highlighting her porcelain features.

The slight shift in her sleeping position caused her neckline to dip slightly, revealing soft, fair skin that was impossible to ignore.

Yvette really trusted Wilson, didn’t she?

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he forced himself to look away, fighting down the heat threatening to consume him again. If he kept staring, he’d have to make another trip to the

bathroom.

Carefully, he pulled the blanket over her, his gaze softening as he watched her sleep.” Goodnight, Yvie. Sweet dreams.”

When Yvette woke up the next morning, she blinked in confusion as she realized she was still

in Wilson’s room.

Memories of last night trickled back. She had only meant to ask him about his grandmother’s birthday, but she’d fallen asleep while waiting.

Yvette glanced at the faint marks on her neck, sighing in exasperation. They hadn’t faded at all, and she rubbed her temples in mild annoyance

“Ms. Murray, are you awake?” A maid’s polite voice called from outside the door.

Yvette got up and went to the door. “What is it?”

“Ms. Murray, Mr. Quinn prepared these clothes for you.”

Yvette’s eyes widened as she watched a procession of maids wheel in racks upon racks of clothes– more than enough to wear a new outfit every day for an entire year. Every style imaginable was laid out before her, including plenty of high–necked options.

Once dressed and ready, Yvette headed downstairs.

“Yvie, my dear, you’re awake!” Martha’s face lit up with a warm smile the moment she saw Yvette. She quickly turned to the butler and instructed, “Serve breakfast!”

“Right away, Mrs. Quinn Senior.”

The butler moved swiftly, bringing in the breakfast spread in no time.

“Yvie, these were all prepared according to your tastes. Wilson made sure to tell the kitchen what you liked before heading to the office so you wouldn’t have to eat something you didn’t

like.”

Yvette’s heart warmed at the thoughtfulness. She was used to simple breakfasts – donuts and pancakes, not fancy sandwiches or the like. Yvette nibbled on her breakfast gleefully.

Martha watched Yvette with fondness. She looked lovely even when eating quietly. Her grandson had truly found a gem.

It was a good thing Martha arranged this marriage early on. Who knows how long it would have taken Wilson to find a wife otherwise?

As she silently praised her foresight, Martha’s eyes caught the faint marks peeking from beneath Yvette’s high collar. Her smile deepened with amusement.

“Wilson, that little!” Martha pretended to scold, though the grin on her face was impossible to hide.

Yvette’s ears burned as she caught sight of Martha’s knowing look. She hurriedly stood up and said, “Grandma, I have to get to school. I’ll come back to visit you soon!”

“Of course, Yvie. I’ll have the butler take you,” Martha replied, unable to hide the smile on her face. This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“And next time, don’t let Wilson get carried away like that. Okay?”

There were so many marks on Yvette’s neck–just how wild had things gotten yesterday?


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