How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 863

"It's fine. This bed is big enough, it won't be a problem." The words had barely left her mouth before Jarrod stood up, came over, and slipped under the covers.

He lay down quietly and closed his eyes. "Lights out, please."

"...Oh," Elodie replied.

She turned off the light and got into bed, a considerable distance between them.

She knew very well that Jarrod could have any woman he wanted. What interest could he possibly have in her?

She fell asleep without a second thought, despite the large, living man lying next to her.

Jarrod turned on his side to look at her.

He had to hand it to her; she was really testing his patience. Did she really see him as some perfect gentleman? Did she think his mind was pure?

He reached out, intending to pinch her cheek in retaliation, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Instead, his hand moved to her little finger, gently hooking it.

The simple touch made his Adam's apple bob. It wasn't enough. He took her whole hand in his, feeling its slender softness.

To avoid waking her, he moved closer, propping his head on his hand to gaze at her sleeping face. Her eyelashes were long, her bone structure beautiful, her features exquisitely defined. Her lips were a pale red, glistening and full from the lip balm she wore.

He became lost in the sight of her.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, a soft, yet deliberate kiss. A tremor ran through his chest, and the hand supporting him on the bed tightened, veins standing out on his skin.

He felt an impulse to devour her, reckless and overwhelming. Crazy scenarios and desires rolled through his mind, one after another.

In her sleep, Elodie must have felt her breathing was restricted, because she instinctively raised a hand and slapped him.

The sound was crisp and clear.

She didn't wake up, but the slap jolted him out of his lustful reverie. His cheek tingled.

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