She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 1002

It was the unmistakable trace of primal desire—repressed for so long beneath layers of intellect and impeccable breeding—finally bursting into an all-consuming inferno.

"Talk too much...?"

Morris whispered the words to himself, his voice dropping into a rich, resonant timbre like the low hum of a cello, laced with a rugged, intoxicating rasp.

He didn't say a single harsh word, but in the very next second, the hand cradling the back of her head gripped her tightly.

He smiled as he leaned down, pressing what looked like a tender kiss to her lips, but the moment their mouths connected, all restraint shattered.

His breathing turned heavy and scorching.

His expression remained composed, his eyes still holding that almost reverent intensity, but his hands were telling an entirely different story...

The sound of fabric tearing was deafening in the quiet of the master bedroom.

Helena tilted her head back, looking up at the man looming over her.

Shadows played across Morris's brow, casting his deceptively cold, flawless features in sharp relief. In his eyes was the unapologetic, territorial hunger of a man who had completely lost his mind.

He was still elegant, yet entirely deranged.

Helena was utterly drained of energy.

Morris slowly lifted his head. The cold yet tender look had returned to his eyes as he gazed quietly down at her. His large, elegant hand smoothed over her rising and falling chest, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Feeling a little better?" he asked softly, his tone just as gentle as before.

Helena didn't answer.

Morris continued, "In the room next door, I have a full collection of equipment. Do you still want to try it out?"